I’m the most unlucky person in the entire kingdom. Trouble finds me wherever I go. Every village and every town I visit trouble lurks around every corner, waiting to ambush me. My every step leads to trouble. I often asked myself “Why did I choose messenger as my life’s work?" No good ever came of it. By some divine power my life was always spared, getting away just in the nick of time. I swear the king was attempting to assassinate me. A small man of my size sent to deliver bad news always turned out dangerous. I’m the first one they decided to attack. I’m the bearer of bad news, not the perpetrator. This time it was no different. I was sent to deliver a message to two twin brothers.
Delivering the message was quite easy. I should have known that trouble was looking for me. What was the message you ask? I was told to tell each brother that the other was the culprit that murdered their parents. Who’s the real culprit? Why the king himself. To blame the brothers would get him off the hook. He knew sooner or later they would come for him. So in turn, he decided to turn them on each other. I delivered the message first to Tristan.
Entering the small village, people stared upon seeing a new face. Establishments and homes lined the main street of the village. Flowers hung from every window, the plant covered walls visually linked the green landscape surrounding the area. I found him in a rundown pub, sitting at the bar counter. He was a dark scary looking figure, so naturally I thought my deliverance would end in a fight. The pub was hot and dark inside. Searching around, I was surprised to see very few people inside. The wet floor caused me to slip as I drew near.
“Are you Tristan?”
He glanced up from his drink and eyed me up and down. Sadly, I’m not the toughest looking guy. His black hair hung in his eyes, which were horrid, intense balls of fire, burning through my soul. I can tell he hasn’t shaved in days and his lips were chapped. Looking at his filthy leather clothes, he was overdue for a bath as well.
“Who’s asking?” In what seemed like an instant, he chugged down his drink and stood just inches from my face.
“Umm…uh…well I’m Jameson; here to deliver a message to you from the king.” The pup went completely silent. Surly, every prying ear could hear me swallow my spit in a nervous gulp.
“So…..deliver”, he said, removing the hair from his eyes.
Nervously I replied, “Your parents sir, were murdered by none other than your brother Liam.”
I closed my eyes and braced myself, ready for an attack. A kick in the gut, a punch in the pie hole, but nothing happened. Peeking through one eye, I could see that he reclaimed his seat. He appeared crestfallen, deflated by my sour words. “No…..no…!” he screeched, as he banged his dirty fist against the counter. Suddenly, his faced brightened, a sparkle of hope twinkled in his cold grey eyes.
“Yes…..yes…,” he muttered.
In one motion he flung towards me, too fast for me to react. He seized hold of my shirt collar, hauled me into his face. The foul whiff of ale on his breath traveled down my nose, settling on the back of my throat. “Do you know what this means?” He repeated his question again as he shook me with little effort. “I finally, after so many agonizing years, get to avenge my parent’s death.” A wail of wild laughter escaped his lips. It unnerved me to have his face so close to mine. Germs are a fear of mine.
“Sir…you’re invading my personal space. Can you please unhand me?”
Slowly, he released his grip on my now smutty collar. I would never be able to remove the stains. He fell to his knees in a stream of violent tears.
“My only brother is the criminal. I must kill my one and only brother, in return for my parent’s murder to be avenged.”
Standing, he took hold of a chair from the bar, smashing it across the counter. That was my cue to leave. I crept backwards, increasing my speed as I moved closer to the door. Just as I barged from the pub a chair crashed against the door, which led the pub into an uproar. I departed to the sound of Tristan using bad language and furniture breaking.
Villagers watched as I retreated swiftly down the dirt road, daring not to look back. Asking around the village, I soon found Liam, his brother, at a small inn. Besides from his hairless face and clean appearance, he was the splitting image of his brother. He informed me that he was in town for the anniversary of his parent’s death and after visiting his parent’s grave, he would leave town.
“I come home every year to visit my parent’s grave site. Sadly though, I don’t get to see my brother much. He’s turned quite, how I can say this.” Liam ran a hand through his neatly trimmed hair. “unbalanced”.
We were seated at a table in the dining hall, waiting to be served. The sun gleamed through the opened windows, giving
the white dining hall a heavenly beauty. With the dining hall packed with guest, I became anxious. I have a thing about crowds. I adjusted my dirty collar and proceeded to deliver my message. “As you know, I’m here on business. The king has a message to convey of your parents murder.” Carthage sat alerted, eager to hear my reply. “Your brother Tristan has murdered your parents. The king himself was a witness to this.” Seeing that he was a much stable character then his brother, I feared not for my life. Minutes passed before he uttered a word.
“I would have never suspected my brother. He loved our parents too much.”
“I apologize for your lost and your situation.”
He stood and threw his napkin on the table.
“I must go now, where is he?” I can tell he was holding back anger, his face was turning red and his eyes glistened with tears.
“Where is he?” Inquired Carthage, trying hard to keep a calm façade.
“Ummmm……well”, was all I could muster.
How dare I lie to them after all that they’ve been through? I am a messenger of the king not a liar of the king. I’ve become a deceiver, a swindler and a cheat. If they found each other someone would die. With trouble out to get me, it was destined to be. I’m caught up in yet another message gone wrong. To my utter despair, the sound of Tristan yelling at the top of his lungs, bellowed down the hall.
“Carthage……..I know you’re in here!!!!!!! I followed the little messenger man. I can see your carriage.”
I followed Carthage as he headed towards his brother’s voice. “You’re right brother, I am here.” Carthage shrieked, catching me off guard.
“I knew it was your carriage. No one else has a horse with curls and bows in its hair.” shouted Tristan, voice drawing closer.
Once through the dining hall doors they flew at each other.
Fist flying and blood flowing, it was hard to digest. I wanted so bad to enterven, but I have a thing about blood and I’m not much of a fighter. I pride myself on being a lover. Two brothers born the same day, to the same parents tearing at each other’s throats. I shouldn’t have let this happen like this. I must tell them the truth, which would cost me my life. They were going to kill each other. Tristan pulled out his sword which was at his side. Carthage did the same. I knew trouble was just around the corner. And it found me.
To be continued…………..