Antihero

I hope they nabbed the boar’s head.

“Hold him, dammit!” Hawkner bellowed at the two limp squires. Blood soaked their courtly robes, turning them from a once striking royal yellow to something resembling the viscera covering the surgery floor.

To their credit, the squires held their liege lord down as Hawkner ripped open his doublet with no regard for the royal sigil.

The bore tusk threatened the heart but damaged little else. To the untrained eye, it would appear fatal. With quick intervention, Hawkner might staunch the bleeding. Difficult…but possible for the castle’s famed surgeon. Their lord would likely go on living for a few more decades.

“What happened?”

“We was tracking prisoners when we heard the boar squeal. Already packing several scalps, we advised him to ride home, but he would not heed. He rode hard down a trail, then we heard screams…”

Hawkner’s knife paused, thinking.

One heartbeat.

Another.

“Lads, he’s done,” Hawkner said solemnly. The pair stared at the surgeon as if he told them to slit the throats of their firstborns. Indeed, maybe Hawkner had. Below, the patient, consciousness long lost, seized again as more blood poured from where the tusk impaled below his heart. “The wound is too grievous. Only one thing to do–ease the passing.”

The squires nodded silently as Hawkner retrieved a bottle from his locked cabinet.

After, as the squires departed, Hawkner washed his hands until the water ran clear.

Yes…they better mount and worship the boar that finally killed the bastard.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A/N:

In preparation for the next Writing Battle, I'm trying to do some 250-word microfiction practice. Enjoy!

If you've enjoyed this, please leave a like and an insight below. If you really enjoyed this, tips to fuel my coffee addiction are always appreciated. All formatting is designed for desktops. All my works can be found below: