Page 53 of Spar of Hearts

Why would he do that? The men seemed like the ones causing all the commotion. They might have even been the ones who made the girl cry.

Granddad sensed his hesitation and squeezed his shoulder. It was an order. He’d follow it, like a brave knight. Granddad was smart. There had to be a reason.

Percy bolted toward the men.

“Thank you! Thank you!” he yelled, nearly tripping as he passed the angrier looking of the two. To his surprise, they let him go. Percy halted his step as he rounded the corner, then peeked back around. Why wasn’t Granddad following?

“I said show us your eyes!”

Granddad kept his head down. “You aren’t knights, or paladins. I don't have to answer to you.”

The girl sniffled, and the men froze.

“I think we found our straggler from earlier,” the angry man said.

“You’ve found no one. Turn around, and I’ll let you go,” Granddad hissed.

“You, will let us, go? Make no mistake, old man, we hold the cards.”

Granddad pulled a dagger from his waistband. Percy had never known him to carry a weapon. He saw Granddad’s mouth move but couldn’t hear what he said. The little girl darted out from behind the barrel and down the alley in the opposite direction.

“After her! I’ll get him!”

The angry man charged at Granddad, brandishing a short sword from his belt while the other chased the girl like a hound on the hunt. Percy dug his fingers into the brick so hard that pain shot into his palms. He squeezed his eyes shut as the screech of metal on metal hit his ears.

“I knew it,” the man growled. Percy peeked an eye open.

Granddad groaned with effort. “You got me. Too bad…Too bad you won’t live to tell a soul!” He twisted his dagger in an attempt to disarm the man. Percy wanted to cheer as the man struggled against Granddad, but kept his mouth shut.

“Percy!”

Percy whirled around, finding Papa looming above him. “There you are. Come on, we don’t have ti—” Papa’s words trailed off as he looked into the alley. Percy turned just in time to see the angry man’s sword slide in and out of his Granddad’s chest with a blood-curdling, fleshy sound. Granddad groaned and fell to his knees, then slumped onto the ground.

Ice ran through Percy’s veins. This was a nightmare. A nightmare. This wasn’t real—why would those men want to hurt Granddad? Why not him?

Papa yanked Percy by the shirt collar. “What. Did. You. Do?”

“Th-there was a girl, sh-she was crying—”

“WHAT DID YOU DO?”

“Charles, stop!” Mum pulled Papa back and scooped Percy up. He buried his face in her sunny hair. In her hair, none of this was real. Strands clung to his face as tears bubbled from his eyes. He shifted up and down in her arms as she walked briskly. The tinny sound of the town faded. The click of boots on stone shifted to soft earth. Shouts turned to rustling leaves. Percy peeked out from the safety of Mum’s curtain of hair. He could feel exactly where his tears had trailed as the wind dried them on his face. Granddad was nowhere in sight.

“Wh-where’s Granddad?” Percy asked softly.

Papa clenched his hands into fists.

“Charles,” Mum said, warning in her tone.

“He needs to know. I’m done treating him like a child.”

Papa yanked Percy from Mum’s arms and pulled him into the woods.

“Charles! Charles, come back! He didn’t know!” Mum called after them. Papa was unyielding, dragging him further and further into the thick brush.

The warmth of Mum’s embrace vanished under Papa’s steely glare. Once Mum’s calls ceased, he shoved Percy down at the base of a willow tree. The bark dug into his back, and the gnarled roots bruised his bottom.

“Ow!” Tears flooded Percy’s eyes as he rubbed his back.