Ficlets

Kidnappers

Anso awoke to a familiar acrid smell. The Quintessence pack! “Mmph!” He shouted, around what tasted like an old stocking. His hands were bound and he was blindfolded, but the smell of the fluid used in his energy source, the one that nearly killed him and all of his audience mere days ago, was unmistakable.

A rough hand loosened the gag so he could speak. “Fools! You could kill us all! Put the thing away!”

The voice that answered was not what he expected. A thickly accented, unmistakably Roman girl giggled, and said in a playful breathy tone, “So, we found your secret. What else is in here?”

A smooth hand touched his cheek and Anso struggled against his bonds, “Let me go!”

The girl slapped his face, not hard but enough to get his attention. “If you knew who I was, padre, you would not speak to me thusly.”

Rough hands on his arms again, a knee to the stomach and stars danced before Anso’s eyes.

“Come on, boys.” said the child’s voice, “We need to get to Rome before my father knows we were here.”

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