Betrayal

          Tasha stared at the iron grate before her as she struggled in her bindings. Her arms were securely tied behind her back, and the ropes burned her skin as she pulled at them. What did I do to deserve this? she wondered frantically. I’ll kill him! She swore to herself. She had met him a few weeks before, and had fallen in love. They had shared wonderful times together, and he had given her the beautiful golden armlets that now pressed coldly against her skin. But he had betrayed her. He had accused her of witchcraft, and had personally turned her in to the authorities.

          Now she stood naked, save for her armlets, in the dark room that opens into the arena. She could hear the audience crying, “Witch! Kill the Witch!” and she wept. A loud groan preceded a crack of light that appeared on the stone floor of the room. The light grew to encompass her feet, then her legs. The door slowly raised high enough that the light shone upon her long red hair. She squinted her brown eyes in the sudden light and continued to weep.

          The cries of the crowd grew louder. “Witch!”. She was pushed unceremoniously into the arena. She lost her balance and fell on her chest. She kept her head raised to avoid impact, but the pain was palpable. The guard kicked her hard in the stomach. She curled up and he pulled the rope on her hands to lift her to her feet. “Get up Witch!” he yelled. The crowd cheered him on. He smiled up at them as she struggled back to her feet.

          A door on the other side of the arena opened and another guard came out. The crowd cheered louder than ever. He was clad in ceremonial golden armor, and carried a broad sword. The guard who had brought her out nodded to the new arrival, who nodded back, then he retreated back into the entrance, and closed the grate.

          Tasha looked up into the audience, and immediately found what she was looking for. The man who had betrayed her sat in a position of honor. He sat two seats away from the king, and she was abashed to see that he was smiling. Fire filled her heart, and she felt the armbands he had given her grow hot. Had she been in a more rational state of mind she would have thought this odd, but as she was she felt only hatred.

          The gold-clad guard came to her and kicked sand at her. She stood there and took it. What could she do? She continued to stand there staring up at the man who had betrayed her. The guard circled her and raised his sword to the crowd. The crowd jeered. Tasha felt a tingle in her arms that went from her armbands down to her fingertips. Feeling the restraints on her hands lessen, she gasped. What happened? She wondered, then it hit her. God is saving me. She knows I’m not a witch. She knows I don’t deserve it. She has freed me, and now I have a fighting chance. She smiled and looked up into the sky. “Thank you.” She said aloud.

          The guard stopped circling and looked into her eyes. He smiled. “You’re welcome.” He said. He had misunderstood her. He put the blade to her throat and she shuddered. It was ice cold. Pulling the blade back the guard took his stance and prepared to slash at her. He put his left foot forward, and began to swing the sword horizontally.

          The world began to pass in slow motion. Tasha ducked down as the blade swung over her head, and lunged toward the guards stomach. He looked down at her in shock. As she struck him in the stomach, she felt the tingle run down her arm again, culminating in her hands. The man stumbled back. He looked confused as he rubbed his chest. What was that? Tasha wondered as she looked down at her hands. Sparks jumped between her fingers. She smiled. Another gift from God. In a single fluid motion Tasha ducked under the guard's sweeping sword and punched directly at his heart. The electricity left her hand, and the guard fell dead.

          Tasha felt a rush as the man fell to the ground. She looked up into the audience and saw her betrayer sitting there, still smiling. She ran for the crowd and jumped over the short barricade. She ran through the fleeing people of the audience and reached the man she wanted so badly to kill. She put her hand up against his face right as the sword of the king’s guard punctured her lung. Her final thoughts as the blade ran her through were that she was a witch. Maybe she did deserve to die. He had been right to turn her in.

          The betrayer pushed the naked lifeless body off of him and removed the magic armlets. He smiled as he walked away.