The Escape
Manu watched the cannon bursts devastate her homeland. Every flash, every horrific boom made her young shoulders tremble. Tears filled her eyes. Pain found her heart. Behind her Raka cleared his throat.
“We must leave soon Manu.”
“My people………….they die for me. How can I………….”
“You must leave. You are our Rani, our beacon. Who will continue the fight if you do not? Now please. We must go.”
The shelling ceased at ten o’clock. Some thousand yards from the palace, a hidden door was forced open. Five figures cloaked in the coarse cloth of the lower castes emerged. Winding their way through rubble, fire and death, they soon came to a guard post.
“Manu, please wait here. I will go ahead. I have the jewels he wants. If I do not come back, flee to the north.”
Some moments passed. Raka returned. “We must hurry. We have only a few minutes.”
Manu turned for one last look at her scorched and barren kingdom. Her back stiffened. “I will make them pay.”
A British officer met them at the guard post. He bowed. “May your Highness have a safe journey.”
“I am forever in your debt kind sir.” Manu stared him down.
He stepped aside and followed them with cold eyes as they passed by.
~*~
“Is that how your Grandfather made his fortune in India?”
“No. It was my fortune he made. Months later in a Calcutta alley, Grandfather’s throat was cut. But not before he sent the jewels home.”
__________________________________________
5 comments:
Ah, yes the so called Indian Mutiny. After which the Brits treated the losers worse than the Russians treat the Chechens.
You have a way with words. Mickey Spillane or historical novels. We are waiting for either genre from you.
I dig it. Did that place have another contest or something?
Given up on contests for the time being. Needless to say I have been far less than successful and the near jumping through hoops to get the manuscript right, not counting my typos, is a pain.
I was not going to post this, but hey I spent so much time on it...
Bored beyond words last weekend and came up with a weak story that when it was over I posted it just because I did want to get frustrated over all the time I spent of the damn thing.
I liked your story. I could feel the pain and suffering and at the end the smugness of a grandson that is rich by no effort on his part.
Enjoyed this but did have to read a second time to "get it" that the guard was grandfather. Also, care needed in relation to the over-use of commas, eg, "Some thousand yards from the palace, a hidden door was forced open." Personally, I would have put your story in the Forties Club but, hey, what do I know?
Regards,
Lewis
Mike, another fine piece of writing and reading some of the stories that did make the 40's club, this should most definitely got there. If I could I'd shake your hand on this nice little piece of historical fiction.
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