Chapter 2

The city's court was slowly filling with spectators to view the early Sunday morning's appearance of the judge. The judge, who speaks on behalf of the King and his court, was an old man who was nearing the end of his time. He knew he only had a few months left to live. His sickness had become more and more prevalent. He knew they would soon assign a new judge to take over while he was to retire.

More and more onlookers gathered; many were headed to Sunday mass. As the judge took the platform, most of the crowd stopped short to see what he had to say.

"People of God, rejoice for today is a beautiful day." His tone sounded faded. To many, it was noticeable that he was ill and not recovering. He continued, "Today is the day of God. Go to the church, and rejoice in Him. He will watch over you. Be mindful of those who wish to turn you away. They are blasphemers and shall be punished by God for their actions." Many people in the crowd started cheering. Before the judge could rasp another word out of his mouth, the crowd continued to carry on with their business.

The judge, not feeling well enough to continue anyway, turned his back to the crowd. As he made his way to the back of the stage, his lungs tensed a little and a chill went down his spine. His urge to cough was overwhelmed by the pain in his throat. He raised his hand to his mouth and coughed viscously into his fist. Upon pulling his hand away, a small blood stain appeared in the palm of his hand.

Jack studied the crowd. He saw many faces of people who seemed more frightened than joyful to enter the church nearby. The crowd around the church grew thick as it approached time for mass. Now's my time to make a move. Out of the shadows, he gracefully maneuvered his way through the crowd. Careful not to bring too much attention to him, he studied the guard's movements along the west wall to the chapel. In his mind, he carefully planned out how to approach the wall and get inside the upper level of the church.

Quickly… before the crowd disperses. He flowed along with the crowd until he reached a small home nearby. It seemed to be deserted, and that was enough for him. Casually, he strode up to the door, and proceeded to open it with ease. As soon as he was inside, he closed the door and locked it. After a quick glance outside to make sure no one noticed, he moved to the rear of the home.

In the back of the house, a small window opened to the western side of the home. As he agilely climbed up the back wall, he made sure to close the window behind as to not leave a note of his trespassing. Upon reaching the top of the home, assisted by the help of a stove pipe, he observed the horizon. Hmm… no guards on the rooftops. You'd think after last night they'd be a little more vigilant. As he made his way to the eastern side of the roof, he stared out into the crowd.

He was disorientated for a moment; something had caught his eye. Better yet, someone caught his eye. It was the beautiful girl who he'd ran into the other day. Her red hair was let down today, just below her shoulders. She filled out her white dress, obviously tailored to her form. She seemed proud to be leading her brothers and sisters towards the church. She appeared stronger than she had yesterday; almost as though she'd been trained as a fighter, but not to muscular. Her freckled skin reminded him of his mother's…

His mother…

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Through the smoke he managed to find his belongings. Exhausted to the point where he could barely breathe anymore, he pulled all of what was left to the clearing. After inventorying what was there, he took what was necessary to continue on: his knapsack, extra clothes, his father's dagger, and the locket his mother was wearing. Noting he did not know when he'd find shelter or food again, he filled his pockets full of dried meat jerky before heading off to the field.

At nine years old, watching your mother being murdered is probably one of the worst things that can happen to you. Though he felt pain and tearing in his heart, he knew if he didn't leave now, he'd be next when they return. And he knew they'd return to loot the carriages. He walked away from the caravan, not turning back, and he wept softly for his lost mother. Inside his head he could still hear her screams. He knew she would be in heaven…

Hah! Heaven… what kind of heaven do I want to go to that men kill for?

He didn't know where the dirt path would lead to, but he followed it anyway. Each night, he'd sleep in a ditch, hoping to avoid the passing knights and soldiers, looking for "blasphemers." And every night, he'd hear them pass overhead, knowing that one day, he'd have his revenge…

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Revenge? It's not even about that anymore. It's about right and wrong…

He watched the girl lead her siblings into the church, one by one. Then, just as she was about to enter, she stopped suddenly. She appeared weary to enter, and hesitated. Then, almost as if she somehow knew right where he was, she glanced in his direction. Stunned, he didn't know what to do. He froze. Can she see me? Does she know I'm here? He swore their eyes met for a moment. Then, this time without hesitation, she turned away and walked into the church.

He couldn't imagine it'd be possible that she'd seen him. But I saw her eyes… He pushed the thought from his mind again. I can't stand around, I'll be seen sooner or later. He continued to the edge of the roof. Carefully, he peered over the edge. Like clockwork, the guards were making their rounds.

He prepared his grappling bolt and rope, and got ready to make the shot. Come on, you bastards… let me do this. The guards conversed below for a few moments, then, laughing and smoking on pipes, they moved south. After they turned the chapel corner, Jack grabbed his crossbow and shot towards the roof ledge. When the bolt was out of sight, he pulled gently until the slack turned into a taught rope. With a gentle tug on one of the three ropes used to make the line, the hooks extended on the end of the bolt, and grabbed on to the edge of the roof ledge.

He quickly tightened the rope to assure no slack would be made by swinging. While preparing to make the swing, he heard voices just below the courtyard again. Before he knew it, he saw another guard walking around the corner into the alley just 5 meters below. What are you doing? You're not scheduled to come through here… But this guard wasn't like the others… he looked different. His garments were more impressive than the others; and that's when it hit him… That's the watch keeper…