There were men surrounding me demanding answers. Demanding me to tell them where Isobel is. As if I would tell them, they killed Isobel’s father, threated the life of our mother. Why would I ever tell them where Isobel is? She may not be my full sister but she was still the only family I had she was the one that looked after me when mother died.
“If you continue refusing where you are hiding that little rat you so call a sister,” The raspy voice echoed throughout the bare streets. “We will…”
“You will what?” I yelled taunting the soldiers before they could threaten Isobel. My voice came out stronger and full of more confidence that I expected.
A soldier, his first outing judging the paling colour on his face, was disturbed by seeing the hurt and pain that has been caused by his men to this young boy. The soldier knew if he stayed staring they would suspect something; he would draw attention to himself, attention he didn’t want. Doing what he though was right, at the time, suggest something he wished he didn’t. Stepping out the line he says, “Sir, what if we capture and imprison him, while he thinks about his mistakes? Sir.” Before stepping back into line with a curt nod of the head.
The man in charge he immediately ordered men to cage Harry. They carried him back to the castle, presenting him to the king like a decoration on a Christmas tree. The king took a small glace toward the small scrawny boy and immediately his decision to of what to do with him was made, no second chances- not in this life.
“Take ‘im to the darkest place of me castle, wif no food.” A silent chuckle escaped the King’s fat lips and stubbly chin which was placed upon a round body like a giant snowman. “Move ya lazy pieces of shit. I ‘ave finished wif ya!”
And with that Harrry woke from his very strange dream, realising that in fact it was only just a dream, dreams were only our imaginations wandering during the night.
The old man left the Isobel and her little brother on the porch wandering what to do.