Damn blue bloods are going to get themselves killed, he thought. He turned around where he sat and spied over a hundred feet behind him a set of stony stairs that led up a little hill. A fiery torch blazed on each side of them. Probably placed there earlier in anticipation for what would happen next, he thought. Atop the hill stood a grove of trees, and above the treeline, The Obelisk shot into the sky, its ancient face standing defiant against the darkness.
He was in luck, too. The carriages had just pulled up. He was ahead of them, and he had a good spot. But what would he do next? What could he do? First, the count stepped out of his carriage, and with his attendants, they slowly walked down the sidewalk. After he was well away from his carriage, the other guests who wanted to visit with the count were allowed out of their carriages. By the time they had all caught up with him and started visiting, he realized he couldn't hear any of them. He'd have to get in closer. It would be tricky, though. There were attendants standing beside the horses of each carriage.
So, carefully he slipped from his seat and took a walk down the sidewalk. But further away, when he thought he was out of sight, he circled back and hid behind trees and brush on the north side of the Obelisk. He was quiet as he could be, but he couldn't help but wonder if any of the guards or attendants heard him. Then, to his horror, the count and his guests moved to the north side of The Obelisk so that they were right in front of him. Surely, he thought, he would be seen now. He knelt down as quietly as he could, steadying his breath, moving slowly.
No comments:
Post a Comment