Guest Noelle Zingarella Posted February 23, 2020 Posted February 23, 2020 Prompt: An origin story for a family’s coat of arms. It is the worst day of Armand’s life. He crouches in the furthest recesses of Hermes Nott’s barn, smothering beneath the piles of moldering hay, waiting for his doom and cursing himself for a fool. It is one thing to grease the palms of a spy—and yet another to take to spying oneself. He will be sure to teach his infant son to know better than to take such chances. Should he live to do so. When William the Bastard had put him to this task, he had known better than to take it. But somewhere in the depths of his bowels, he’d felt sure that he could remain silent and unseen. His magic would protect him. The rewards had been worth the risk—or so he’d told himself when he was safe and warm in good William’s tent. He hears footsteps and muffled voices. There is a scuffle, and arguing. Soon they will fall upon him and drag him away to his doom. He holds his breath, waiting; and after an eternity the footsteps and the voices recede. “They’re gone now. And you’d best be gone before they return,” Hermes says sometime later. “I thank you,” Armand says, brushing hay off of his robes. Hermes shrugs, and gives him a wry smile. It is the same smile he will wear in later years, when presented with a crest bearing a mound of hay and a lone black crow; and the motto: corvus oculum corvi non eruit*. Word Count: 248 *a crow will not put out the eye of another crow (or, honor among thieves)
Recommended Posts
Archived
This topic is now archived and is closed to further replies.