Fiction Friday:
The Book of Micah, Ep. III

Another meal had passed and a third, when the trapdoor opened and a light shined down into Micah's dank cell, momentarily blinding him. An unfamiliar sound reached his ears, then he felt a rush of air moving past his face. He squinted against the dim brightness to see a frayed rope ladder in front of him.

“Come!” A voice barked out from above.

Micah grasped the knotted cords and slowly lifted his knees, raising his feet in the motion needed to climb. He’d managed only one rung when a pair of beefy forearms curled under his shoulders to haul him up the remaining distance. Micah blinked in surprise, his eyes taking their time to adjust to light they'd been denied in his cell. He stood still, waiting for another instruction and allowing the scene in the stony passage to come into focus.

The arms belonged to a hulking palace guard, uniformed in black. Down his wide chest, silver buttons caught the light from the torches set into the walls, seeming to dance as he moved. A smaller man, dressed in blue robes stood beside the guard. He held a scroll open before him and another under his arm.

“Micah, son of Hulder?” The man in blue sounded tired. Micah wondered vaguely at the time of day.

“Yes.”

“Follow me.”

The three men, Micah behind the man in blue and trailed by the guard, walked through a maze of wide and narrow corridors, some shadowed, others lit by torches. The trio stopped for a moment at each locked gate or bolted door to give their robed leader a moment to find the appropriate key from a large ring Micah now recognized he carried in a leather pouch on his belt. They reached a winding staircase and began climbing. As the official opened the door at the top, Micah could see what lay on the far side was much brighter than the dungeon labyrinth they'd traversed. The man in blue led them out to a dusty courtyard, surrounded on two sides by high castle walls, on the other two by dense forest. Micah estimated the time at mid-morning. The courtyard was empty, but for the three men. Micah's heart pounded in anticipation and dread. Was this his last view of this life? He looked from side to side, noticing neither gallows nor blood-splattered chopping block as he'd expected. In fact, the courtyard looked completely bare. His surprise granted him the boldness to question his fate.

“Am I not to be executed?”

The guard stood silently by, showing movement only in the constant sweep of his gaze across the wooded border. The man in blue held out a scroll toward him, “Do you read, Micah, son of Hulder?”

Micah shook his head. It was a lie. He did read. He wasn't sure what prompted him to deny it now.

“Upon investigation, the charges against you were found to be without merit.”

Mouth agape, Micah stared at this stranger, but he was not finished with his summary.

“You are free to go.”

The man in blue and the guard stepped back through the iron door and Micah heard the bolt slide into place. Still, he stared after them as though they might reappear momentarily. After what could have been seconds or minutes, time still moving at an unchecked pace, Micah shook his head and began walking toward the forest, marveling at his good fortune.

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