Wine and Warfare

"Hey!"

A whisper echoed from the shadows as I walked down a long corridor. I turned and saw a figure, shrouded in darkness, huddling in the corner. A long bony finger beckoned me towards him.

"Archie" hissed the voice. I was taken aback. This person knew my name, or at least, the name the Master had given me.

The figure half emerged, and I was startled to see a familiar face. It was Jim.

Jim saw my dazed look and grinned. "It's ok, Archie. I need to tell you something." He looked around suspiciously. "Not here though. Come on."

Jim hooked his arm around mine and strode quickly down the corridor, dragging me with him. As we passed a door, he pushed through it. We were now standing in a kitchen. It was empty, as I had come a day early, and the chefs wouldn't be preparing the food yet.

Jim wasn't smiling anymore. I tried to ask what was going on, but my throat closed up. This always happens when I'm nervous. The Master had tried to train (or beat) it out of me, but it hadn't worked.

Jim realised this and began to explain: "This evening at dinner, the Master us going to be poisoned."

What? How could this be? The Master? Poisoned? Dead? That was unthinkable. The man who had overseen our training, who had treated me and my peers like sons, was going to die? No. Jim must be mistaken.

"I-"

I was choking, but I forced the words out of my mouth.

"I can't believe it! How? Why?!"

Jim sighed. "It is said that the Master's ways are rather harsh. He is becoming more and more careless and brutal with his students. He is also in a great deal of debt, which of course makes him a target." Jim seemed calm about this, but I was about to burst.

"Do They know?"

"No. It is only us two that are aware."

"Well why haven't you told anyone?!"

"Because I am the one thats going to kill him."

Jim's words shook me. My words caught in my throat again and I suddenly felt dizzy. Jim? How could he?

"The Master is an obsolete part of this organisation" began Jim. "He is a cruel man who cares only to be in power. Without him, we can do so much more."

When I didn't answer, he sighed again. "Think about it, Arch. And by dinner tomorrow, I'll know whether you're on my side."

I rubbed my eyes and shook my head. When I looked back up, Jim was gone.

The next day, I stood uncomfortably outside a large set of oak doors. I fiddled with my time as I thought over what Jim had said yesterday.

What he was talking about was absurd. It was treason. But if I knew Jim, he was a determined man. The only way that he wasn't going to do this, was if I stopped him myself.

I put on a smile and pushed open the doors. On the other side, a long table sat with about a dozen guests in suits at it. On the end, downing a glass of wine, was the Master. His snow white beard was drenched, and he laughed drunkenly when I approached.

"Archie! How good of you to come and join us in eat and drink!" I didn't mind his strange phrasing, as he was so obviously drunk I could not correct him. "Here" he slurred, and held out a bottle of crimson liquid. I took a glass from the table and allowed him to pour.

I assured myself that this wine was not poisoned, otherwise half the guests would already be dying. It tasted sweet but bitter, and tingled as I swallowed.

"A fine wine!" chortled the Master. "But it does not come close to my special collection. We will taste that later this evening."

He winked and turned to talk to someone else, so I slunk away to an empty chair. Nobody bothered talking much to me. I sat and waited for the dinner to be served. It was roast beef with vegetables and of course, more wine. I couldn't imagine the Master to be even conscious after this meal. That was, if he was still alive.

Jim was not here, I noticed. He did not enter at all throughout the meal, and everyone was already finished when the doors crashed open.

Out waltzed Jim, but instead of quietly slinking past to his seat, he skipped straight to the Master and shouted.

"Hello, old man! How amazing to see you here!" My eyes bulged in disbelief. Had Jim changed his mind? Perhaps he had been hypnotised. I stared, puzzled, until I saw what he was holding.

The Master's private wine. It was in red and gold bottle. The liquid swished around inside. Jim presented this to the Master, who was delighted. He began to pour a glass, but Jim stopped him.

"Oh no, sir. Such a great man should not have to pour his own drinks. I have done the honour of preparing you glass for you." He then produced a glass of the wine and handed it to the Master. I tried to listen to his words, but all I could hear was "Poison, poison..."

The drinks were poured and I suddenly realised that I had left my glass up at the Master's end of the table. I stood to get it. Jim grinned at me, though it seemed more like a silent snarl. I quickly found my glass sitting by the Master's, and hurried back to my seat.

"Cheers!" cried Jim. "To our wonderful Master, and his wonderful wine." A lump formed in my throat. There was nothing I could do now.

The wine tasted strange, and I didn't favour the taste, but everyone else seemed to enjoy it, so I faked a smile.

Then I looked at the Master. He looked fine, though Jim had a triumphant look on his face.

My hands were clammy with sweat. I began to choke up again. I swallowed and suddenly couldn't breathe. A few people noticed and stared. If only I could blurt out that the Master was being poisoned. If only I could talk at all.

Then something happened that had never happened before. I started to foam at the mouth. Saliva was dripping from my lips. I still couldn't breathe. I grasped at my throat, which felt tight as if I were being strangled. Everyone was watching me in shock now. Except Jim. He was stared smugly into my eyes.

Then I realised. The Master had not been poisoned. I remembered walking up to get my glass. It was right next to the Master's. Only, which was which? I had just picked blindly, without thinking.

There were black spots around my vision. I was suffocating. Right before my eyes closed completely, I locked eyes with Jim, standing at the back of the room. I could just make him out, grinning and mouthing some words. Those last few words were the ones I took to my grave.

"Goodbye, Archie..."