I’ve been out of the link for a few weeks and missed a couple of my usual prompts. However things seem to be calming down and I can get back to normal again. The Sunday Photo Fiction is one of the prompts I’ve missed. A weekly 100 – 200 word story based on the photo provided, the stories are great to read but it’s even better taking part, get yourselves over.
Looking out to sea, the smell of freedom was almost tangible, Simon could taste it. He watched as the waves lashed back and forth, black against black. Then the pace slowed, almost to a breath, a lingering sigh of sorts. A heady scent of seaweed and fish, of power and salt hit his nostrils.
He could smell the brewing storm. For a second he closed his eyes savouring its release. The pull of cold steel around his ankles broke his repose. A guard stood above him, twisting a heavy booted foot through the chain. Under the shackle, he felt his flesh ripping; he bit his lip but didn’t flinch. He wouldn’t give them that.
Back at the barracks huge rivets were set into the wall beside the bunks and each man was linked to a heavy chain bolted to the floor. Simon laid still on his bunk listening to the others. Their talk was raw and crude and never broke the surface. He rolled over, pulling an extra length of chain.
This morning he’d found the bottle with the message buried under the stones. His men were coming. Six months of hell, thinking of nothing but revenge. The bastard son of his father would pay dearly for his newly stolen title. Simon De Montfort, known to some as ‘The Black Pirate’ was the rightful Earl of Claybourne. He’d soon be breaking skulls instead of rocks.