Confiscation

Red Writing Hood is a weekly writing meme hosted at The Red Dress Club. I haven’t done this for a while, because I had been so busy. This week's prompt was to write about a treasure that was stolen from you or your character, and what your character did about it. We had to keep the word count under 600.

Through the passage, noise from the other side reached Caitlin.

“What now,” she thought to herself and hurried forward in spite of exhaustion hanging on her heels.  

In the courtyard, there were soldiers loading a cart with provisions from the barns and cellars, a captain already giving orders for departure.

Caitlin’s attention was drawn to the voices from inside the House, a woman’s shriek and men’s coarse laughter in response. The moment she dashed up to the entrance two men came out, almost knocking her down.

One of them caught her by her waist.

“How dare you touch…!

“Hey, gorgeous, you’ve got something for us?” Before she could take a breath, he spied the ring on her middle finger and was already at pulling it off.

“How about that shiny ring?!”

“No! Not my wedding ring!” She resisted fruitlessly as the ring was snatched from her finger. She launched herself after the leaving man, but he pushed he back.

“It’ll pay for hubby’s food,” the man laughed at her, getting on his horse, “or mine.”

Losing her balance she fell on her knees, her calls unheard in a clatter of hoofs as the company galloped away.

A maid rushed to her side, helping her on her feet.

“May, are you all right, have they hurt you?” she asked while rising.

“No, milady, I’m fine.”

Caitlin nodded and headed after the company. Stepping out from entrance arch, she saw the cart slowly moving down the winding road on the left, half the company in front, the other half in the back. They had to take all the long way round by the road, but she turned towards the forest on her left to get ahead of them. She lifted her skirts high and ran through the wood, slipping now and then, falling once, but ever lurching forward and down the steep slopes.

At last she came out of the forest onto a flat clearance between it and the houses. Crossing it she headed straight to the headquarters at the inn, without looking aside even as she sensed people looking at her and making comments.

She pushed past the staggered guard in the hallway and opened the door to the captain’s office.

“Captain, your men are thieves. They stole my wedding ring and I want it back!” she demanded, too upset to mind her manners.

“Lady Clarefield,” a bald red-faced man stood hastily from behind the table.

“Please, take a seat and tell me what happened.”

Caitlin quickly related the incident to him, giving a description of the man who had taken her ring. The captain then excused himself, leaving her in his office. No more than ten minutes later, he returned, followed by two men holding the third in between. Caitlin stood up as she recognised the thief.

“Is this your ring, milady?” asked the captain, holding it out on his palm: “it was found on his person.”

“Yes,” Caitlin gasped, seized the ring and put it back on her finger.

The captain made the man apologise, what he did reluctantly and was then taken away.

“I assure you he will be strictly punished, I am truly sorry for the event. May I offer you a coach and escort to Clarefield?” continued the captain.

“Thank you, captain, but I feel safer without the presence of your men. I will pray for their lives and their souls.”

Relieved, Caitlin took her leave, taking the forest route home. The fatigue returning, she was walking slowly, but on her face there was a faint victorious smile. 


Word count: 592 


I wrote this as a part of what I decided to call Christopher and Caitlin Collage because different pieces of their story come to my mind by and by. The parts are in no particular order, but I am slowly getting the view of the big picture, so who knows what comes out of it all.