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The Highwayman’s Dilemma
#WritcoStoryPrompt23
The gold coins fell out of the velvet purse as soon as he pulled at its string. Glittering eyes stared at the precious bounty in shock. His luck had finally turned! He could stop his life of thievery on the highway and lead a respectable life.
“Help, help me…” the faint whisper belonged to the woman he thought he had murdered. Their eyes held. “Wha..what’s happened? Where am I? Who are you?” Just as he reached for the dagger, she whispered in fright, “Who am I?”Here is a possible continuation of the story with some dialogue:
He quickly stuffed the gold coins back into the purse and hid it under his cloak. He looked around nervously, hoping no one had seen him. He was in a secluded spot by the side of the road, where he had dragged the woman after attacking her carriage. He had expected her to be dead by now, but she was still breathing, though weakly.
He grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her roughly. "Who are you? Where did you get this money?" he demanded.
She blinked at him with confusion and fear. "I...I don't know," she stammered. "I can't remember anything. Please, don't hurt me."
He cursed under his breath. He had never met anyone who had lost their memory before. Was she lying to him? Was she trying to trick him? He searched her face for any sign of deceit, but he only saw innocence and pain.
He felt a pang of guilt in his chest. He had never killed a woman before, let alone one who was helpless and amnesiac. He had always followed a code of honor among thieves: only rob from the rich, never harm the innocent, and always share with your comrades. But he had broken all those rules today. He had acted on impulse, driven by greed and desperation.
He had been a highwayman for as long as he could remember. He had grown up on the streets, orphaned and hungry. He had learned to survive by stealing and fighting. He had joined a band of outlaws who roamed the countryside, robbing travelers and merchants. He had enjoyed the thrill of the chase, the freedom of the road, and the camaraderie of his fellow rogues.
But lately, he had grown tired of his life of crime. He had seen too many of his friends die or get caught by the law. He had witnessed too much violence and cruelty. He had longed for a change, for a chance to start over. He had dreamed of settling down in a peaceful village, finding a honest job, and maybe even falling in love.
That's why he had decided to rob this woman. He had heard rumors that she was a wealthy heiress who was traveling to meet her fiancé, a nobleman from a neighboring kingdom. He had thought that if he could get his hands on her jewels and money, he could finally leave his past behind and begin a new life.
But he hadn't expected her to have so much gold. And he hadn't expected her to survive his attack. And he certainly hadn't expected her to forget who she was.
Now he was faced with a dilemma: should he kill her and take the money, or spare her and help her recover? What would he do with his newfound wealth? Would he be able to escape the law and his past? Or would he be haunted by his conscience and his fate?
He didn't know what to do. He felt torn between his greed and his guilt, between his old self and his new self.
He looked at her again. She was pale and trembling, but also beautiful and gentle. She reminded him of someone he had once loved, someone he had lost long ago.
He felt a surge of compassion and pity for her. She was innocent, like he used to be. She deserved better than this.
He made up his mind.
"Listen to me," he said softly. "I'm sorry for what I did to you. I'm not going to hurt you anymore. I'm going to help you."
"Help me?" she repeated, looking at him with disbelief and gratitude.
"Yes," he said, nodding. "I'm going to take you somewhere safe, where you can rest and heal. And I'm going to help you find out who you are."
"Who are you?" she asked.
He hesitated for a moment. Then he said, "I'm...a friend."
He lifted her up in his arms and carried her to his horse. He mounted it and placed her in front of him. He wrapped his cloak around her to keep her warm.
He looked at the purse full of gold coins that was hidden under his cloak.
He wondered if he was making a mistake.
He wondered if he would regret it.
But then he felt her lean against him and sigh softly.
And he felt something stir in his heart.
He smiled faintly.
He decided it was worth it.
He spurred his horse into a gallop and rode away from the scene of the crime.
He didn't look back.
© JR2K6
18sep23
The gold coins fell out of the velvet purse as soon as he pulled at its string. Glittering eyes stared at the precious bounty in shock. His luck had finally turned! He could stop his life of thievery on the highway and lead a respectable life.
“Help, help me…” the faint whisper belonged to the woman he thought he had murdered. Their eyes held. “Wha..what’s happened? Where am I? Who are you?” Just as he reached for the dagger, she whispered in fright, “Who am I?”Here is a possible continuation of the story with some dialogue:
He quickly stuffed the gold coins back into the purse and hid it under his cloak. He looked around nervously, hoping no one had seen him. He was in a secluded spot by the side of the road, where he had dragged the woman after attacking her carriage. He had expected her to be dead by now, but she was still breathing, though weakly.
He grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her roughly. "Who are you? Where did you get this money?" he demanded.
She blinked at him with confusion and fear. "I...I don't know," she stammered. "I can't remember anything. Please, don't hurt me."
He cursed under his breath. He had never met anyone who had lost their memory before. Was she lying to him? Was she trying to trick him? He searched her face for any sign of deceit, but he only saw innocence and pain.
He felt a pang of guilt in his chest. He had never killed a woman before, let alone one who was helpless and amnesiac. He had always followed a code of honor among thieves: only rob from the rich, never harm the innocent, and always share with your comrades. But he had broken all those rules today. He had acted on impulse, driven by greed and desperation.
He had been a highwayman for as long as he could remember. He had grown up on the streets, orphaned and hungry. He had learned to survive by stealing and fighting. He had joined a band of outlaws who roamed the countryside, robbing travelers and merchants. He had enjoyed the thrill of the chase, the freedom of the road, and the camaraderie of his fellow rogues.
But lately, he had grown tired of his life of crime. He had seen too many of his friends die or get caught by the law. He had witnessed too much violence and cruelty. He had longed for a change, for a chance to start over. He had dreamed of settling down in a peaceful village, finding a honest job, and maybe even falling in love.
That's why he had decided to rob this woman. He had heard rumors that she was a wealthy heiress who was traveling to meet her fiancé, a nobleman from a neighboring kingdom. He had thought that if he could get his hands on her jewels and money, he could finally leave his past behind and begin a new life.
But he hadn't expected her to have so much gold. And he hadn't expected her to survive his attack. And he certainly hadn't expected her to forget who she was.
Now he was faced with a dilemma: should he kill her and take the money, or spare her and help her recover? What would he do with his newfound wealth? Would he be able to escape the law and his past? Or would he be haunted by his conscience and his fate?
He didn't know what to do. He felt torn between his greed and his guilt, between his old self and his new self.
He looked at her again. She was pale and trembling, but also beautiful and gentle. She reminded him of someone he had once loved, someone he had lost long ago.
He felt a surge of compassion and pity for her. She was innocent, like he used to be. She deserved better than this.
He made up his mind.
"Listen to me," he said softly. "I'm sorry for what I did to you. I'm not going to hurt you anymore. I'm going to help you."
"Help me?" she repeated, looking at him with disbelief and gratitude.
"Yes," he said, nodding. "I'm going to take you somewhere safe, where you can rest and heal. And I'm going to help you find out who you are."
"Who are you?" she asked.
He hesitated for a moment. Then he said, "I'm...a friend."
He lifted her up in his arms and carried her to his horse. He mounted it and placed her in front of him. He wrapped his cloak around her to keep her warm.
He looked at the purse full of gold coins that was hidden under his cloak.
He wondered if he was making a mistake.
He wondered if he would regret it.
But then he felt her lean against him and sigh softly.
And he felt something stir in his heart.
He smiled faintly.
He decided it was worth it.
He spurred his horse into a gallop and rode away from the scene of the crime.
He didn't look back.
© JR2K6
18sep23
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