Feeling a pair of eyes upon him, Colman turned and saw Trevor, that little rat of a junior priest. He was a child of eight years, his eyes mismatched just as Colman's were with the left being red and the right blue. He had been from his mother's womb untimely ripped, as his materfamilias had been hanged as a witch. He was a naïve individual, so people said, but even then, Colman was not exactly sure.
Why are you spying on me, Trevor?" inquired Colman.
Turning to look with her basket full of laundry in hand, Ruby stared at the junior priest. "Who is he?" she asked.
"A rat." Colman answered, standing up and approaching the younger boy. "Now wherefore are you spying on me?"
Trevor did not answer. He merely proceeded to run away and so Colman ran after him, even as Ruby called for him to leave Trevor be. In her heart, the Minceiri girl knew better than to trust Trevor, she could not help but feel that child was going to lead Colman into a trap.
Through the streets of Dublin did Colman follow after Trevor. The cat in pursuit of the rat, yet even then the cat did know, that a good grimalkin did not always manage to catch vermin. Run as fast as he might with his longer legs, Colman did not seem to be getting any closer to Trevor. He always seemed to be three feet out of arm's reach. How could someone with legs so short be so fast? Colman could not understand it.
That little rat was not going to get away! Not this time! Not this time! This time he would get answers from Trevor! Oh, yes! He—
Upon seeing Apollo, Colman froze in his tracks. Trevor ran behind the soldier and cried: "Protect me, sir! He is trying to do me harm! I am only a priest! I have never done anyone any harm!"
"He is lying!" Colman exclaimed. "That little rat was spying on me!"
Enraged by what he had heard said, Apollo roared: "This boy is a priest! He does not lie!"
With a blank expression, the Young Poet commented: "You are an idiot."
Alas, that was the last thing Colman should have said. Unsheathing his longsword, Apollo approached the Young Poet with a murderous look in his orbs.
"For that, you Irish pig, I will kill you. Slowly."
"Wherefore the brand then?" inquired Colman. "Not exactly a slow death if you intend to stab me."
"Whoever said anything about stabbing?" asked Apollo, his tone nothing short of sinister. "I will beat you to death with the pommel of my sword even if it takes me all day!"
Colman was not entirely sure if such a death was possible. Apollo may have been speaking from prior experience, but he did not wish to ask if his attacker had actually done such a thing before. Looking to Trevor, the Young Poet saw the Junior Priest with an excited look on his face. The boy could not have actually wanted to see him beaten to death with a pommel, could he? He must have. No one could feign excitement such as that.
As Apollo tried to grab Colman with his free hand, the latter merely moved aside, quick to avoid the soldier's grip. With his intention being to beat him to death with the pommel, there would be no use of the actual blade. To Colman's thinking, there had to be better ways to kill someone slowly.
Alas, it did not seem that Apollo knew any other ways to kill someone slowly. Due to a lack of not knowing any other ways to kill anyone slowly, the Solider found himself tiring out quickly. Every time he tried to grab Colman, the Young Poet would move aside and the more the Solider tired the more he grew infuriated. Was Apollo still exhausted from the night before? Whoever it was the Soldier had been meeting, Colman wondered why she could not have been one of those women he had heard spoken of who had so much love in them that they killed the man who made love to them. Were there such women? He had heard a man say "If this woman has as much love as she does talk, I will most likely be dead come morning", so wherefore could Apollo's mistress of the hour have been such a woman as that?
Once did Apollo Sidney raise his brand, actually seeming as if he might actually use it. Thankfully, the Soldier showed some restraint and instead sheathed his sword so he might have the use of both hands. A smart move, Colman could acknowledge that, but that did not change the fact that Apollo was still not as fast as he should have been. Perhaps, he was even still a bit drunk from the night before.
As Apollo rested against a nearby wall, Colman asked: "If this is over, can I continue trying to pursue that little rat?"
Not even looking at Colman, Apollo snarled: "It is not over!"
"If you insist." Uttered Colman. "So, what is the matter? Had too much to drink or was there to much love in whoever your mistress of the hour was?" Apollo did not give an answer. He merely lunged at Colman, attempting to grab him and once more failing. The Young Poet continued to stare at the Soldier, noting how he was sweating excessively. "Are you alright?"
"Nothing that a little bit of bloodletting won't cure." Said Apollo.
"With how much you drink I'd be surprised if there even is any blood running through your veins." Commented Colman. "Whatever blood you had must have been replaced by beer!"
"Come on!" called Trevor with his fists clenched. "Kill that stupid poet with his mismatched eyes! Let me be Master Gardiner's student instead!"
"You have mismatched eyes yourself, hypocrite!" said Colman, staring at the Junior Priest in disbelief. "And what makes you think that Master Gardiner would ever take you on as his student?"
"I am one of the New English!" exclaimed Trevor. "I am more deserving of being taught by Mas—"
Alas, Trevor did not get any further. The first thing Apollo did upon resuming his attempts to grab Colman was shove the Junior Priest aside, where he promptly fell to the ground.
"Enough of this talk!" Apollo snarled, taking a moment to look at Trevor, unsure if he was unconscious or not. He did not think he have shoved the boy that hard. Upon seeing that the Junior Priest was indeed unconscious, the Soldier turned to face the Young Poet once more and said: "It is clear that I did not kill enough Irish when we were conquering this island. It is about time I rectified that."
"What?" scoffed Colman. "With how you look, I doubt you could kill an insect."
Again, and again, Apollo tried to grab Colman and again and again, the Soldier failed to do so. He was like the clumsy bear attempting to attacking the agile wolf, or the equally clumsy pelican attempting to attack the equally agile falcon. No matter what he was like, bear or pelican, in his state, the Soldier could not get hold of the Young Poet.
"Hold still!" roared Apollo, beginning to look less human and more like a beast. "Let me kill you!"
Giving a small laugh, Colman asked: "Now why in God's name would I ever let you do a thing like that? As Master Gardiner told me, men like living."
Alas, Colman's luck had run out. Grabbing him by the neck, Apollo pulled the Young Poet in closely and snarled: "You are no man! You are only one of the Irish! Pigs to be slaughtered!"
Feeling the Soldier's hands begin to squeeze around his throat, Colman was in no way frightened. He had been here before only the day prior. Killing someone by strangulation was extremely difficult. All the Young Poet had to do was bring his knee into Apollo's groin and he was free as a bird.
If only freedom was not so brief. Once more Apollo had grabbed Colman, only this time drawing a dagger and holding the blade inches away from the Young Poet's neck. There were no cold remarks from the Soldier, no comments of any kind, just a cold glare.
Colman would have died that very moment had Ruby not stepped in that very moment. Holding on to Apollo's arm, she cried: "No! Please don't kill him!"
A cold grin spread across the Soldier's countenance. Without even taking his cold, blue eyes off of the Young Poet, he asked the Walking Girl: "What will you give me in exchange for his life?"
"Anything, just don't kill him!"
Still not taking his eyes off of Colman, Apollo uttered: "I know you will." Releasing the Young Poet, the Soldier sheathed his dagger and stared down at Ruby, one who was old enough to be his own daughter. "I will be expecting you at the Tudor Rose Inn tonight at 10:30. Don't be late."
Caressing her cheek, Apollo laughed as Ruby recoiled from his touch, less like that of a human and more like that of the very Devil himself. Then did he make his way from the scene, he may not have spilled Irish blood, but he did manage to acquire a new conquest for that very night. All in all, he considered it a fair trade and acquiring a conquest meant he would not have to clean his weapons. For Apollo Sidney, all of Dublin was his from the women, to the alcohol, to whatever else he wanted and in life there was much he desired.