the snow.
We were enclosed in complete darkness, which was a blessing and a curse. No one could see us, even if they were standing just a few feet away. Yet it slowed us at a time where every minute counted.
Once we located the house of the merchant, I retrieved the key from my belt. Cautiously I looked around. The exuberant silence of the sleeping district made me nervous. Some people were deep sleepers; others could be awoken by any sound. When taking measurements months ago, I was able to understand the location but I never got to know the people and their habits. I waited, unsure if the clicking of the turning key would disturb anyone in the merchant’s family.
“Let’s go Adam, we cannot take forever,” Katrina said.
I inserted the untested key and hoped for the best. With closed eyes and a slightly trembling hand I turned until the lock jumped open. From now on there had to be dead silence.
Entering the house, every sound, creak, and breath seemed like a violent explosion of noise in the innocently silent house. Now and then I froze, listening for movement upstairs. It seemed like I had stopped breathing as the only thing that reached my ears was my own heartbeat.
I spotted the glass cabinet in the living room immediately. The faint moonlight reflected in its surface through the window with a bluish tint. Lifting the bolt, I opened the front of the cabinet and gave Katrina directions. I decided that we could take four chalices at most, yet should not leave any gaping holes in the arrangement. Decisively I pointed at the corners in the very back and showed her the number two.
It was a dauntingly slow yet nerve wracking task. Our arms extended into the cabinet with only the sense of touch to guide them. If a single chalice were to tip over, a chain reaction would ensue, waking the entire house. As I secured my second chalice in the bag, I waited on Katrina to retrieve the last.
That moment my ears recognized something else. Besides our breaths and our heartbeats another set of noises had risen. Footsteps. Katrina had not noticed them yet, still focusing on the chalice. I tried to gesticulate a warning but all she took it for was to make her hurry up. I wanted to tell her but I could not. They would have heard me. Why was she taking so long? My heartbeat was racing louder and louder. There was no way of controlling it now. So many thoughts passed through my mind and yet I was standing idly at her side.
The footsteps closed in on us. Blood shot up into my head and I could feel the veins in my temples throb. I should not, and I could not, but I did. My right hand grabbed the stiletto that was secured underneath my right pant leg above my ankle. It was illegal for a commoner to carry or own weapons, but being the son of the blacksmith had its advantages.
My hands were shaking more and more with every heartbeat, as the footsteps descended the stairs that led into the entrance hall adjacent to the living room. With my back against the wall and the steal clung in my palm I waited for the merchant. Katrina finally pulled the chalice out of the cabinet and placed it into the bag beside her. Quickly she closed and bolted the glass door. Turning around her face filled with terror as she saw me holding the dagger. The moment she recognized the footsteps, she grabbed the bag and hid behind a bookshelf across from me. The spot allowed her to peak at the entrance of the living room next to me and yet kept her concealed in darkness.
The feet of the stranger had hit the ground. So often had I challenged the existence of God, and yet I found myself praying; praying that they would not find us; Praying that the person would leave; Praying that I did not have to kill whoever came down the stairs. My eyes sought guidance in Katrina’s but they were covered by the cloak of night.
I was on my own. My left index finger went up and down the blade of the stiletto hoping that it would lead to a quick death.
The steps were not
We were enclosed in complete darkness, which was a blessing and a curse. No one could see us, even if they were standing just a few feet away. Yet it slowed us at a time where every minute counted.
Once we located the house of the merchant, I retrieved the key from my belt. Cautiously I looked around. The exuberant silence of the sleeping district made me nervous. Some people were deep sleepers; others could be awoken by any sound. When taking measurements months ago, I was able to understand the location but I never got to know the people and their habits. I waited, unsure if the clicking of the turning key would disturb anyone in the merchant’s family.
“Let’s go Adam, we cannot take forever,” Katrina said.
I inserted the untested key and hoped for the best. With closed eyes and a slightly trembling hand I turned until the lock jumped open. From now on there had to be dead silence.
Entering the house, every sound, creak, and breath seemed like a violent explosion of noise in the innocently silent house. Now and then I froze, listening for movement upstairs. It seemed like I had stopped breathing as the only thing that reached my ears was my own heartbeat.
I spotted the glass cabinet in the living room immediately. The faint moonlight reflected in its surface through the window with a bluish tint. Lifting the bolt, I opened the front of the cabinet and gave Katrina directions. I decided that we could take four chalices at most, yet should not leave any gaping holes in the arrangement. Decisively I pointed at the corners in the very back and showed her the number two.
It was a dauntingly slow yet nerve wracking task. Our arms extended into the cabinet with only the sense of touch to guide them. If a single chalice were to tip over, a chain reaction would ensue, waking the entire house. As I secured my second chalice in the bag, I waited on Katrina to retrieve the last.
That moment my ears recognized something else. Besides our breaths and our heartbeats another set of noises had risen. Footsteps. Katrina had not noticed them yet, still focusing on the chalice. I tried to gesticulate a warning but all she took it for was to make her hurry up. I wanted to tell her but I could not. They would have heard me. Why was she taking so long? My heartbeat was racing louder and louder. There was no way of controlling it now. So many thoughts passed through my mind and yet I was standing idly at her side.
The footsteps closed in on us. Blood shot up into my head and I could feel the veins in my temples throb. I should not, and I could not, but I did. My right hand grabbed the stiletto that was secured underneath my right pant leg above my ankle. It was illegal for a commoner to carry or own weapons, but being the son of the blacksmith had its advantages.
My hands were shaking more and more with every heartbeat, as the footsteps descended the stairs that led into the entrance hall adjacent to the living room. With my back against the wall and the steal clung in my palm I waited for the merchant. Katrina finally pulled the chalice out of the cabinet and placed it into the bag beside her. Quickly she closed and bolted the glass door. Turning around her face filled with terror as she saw me holding the dagger. The moment she recognized the footsteps, she grabbed the bag and hid behind a bookshelf across from me. The spot allowed her to peak at the entrance of the living room next to me and yet kept her concealed in darkness.
The feet of the stranger had hit the ground. So often had I challenged the existence of God, and yet I found myself praying; praying that they would not find us; Praying that the person would leave; Praying that I did not have to kill whoever came down the stairs. My eyes sought guidance in Katrina’s but they were covered by the cloak of night.
I was on my own. My left index finger went up and down the blade of the stiletto hoping that it would lead to a quick death.
The steps were not
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