In a Place of Miracles
TRIUMPH. A seemingly innocuous mishap presented itself in the way of an unwisely gifted talisman. It dangled from the hands of the deformed hunchback as he held it up. Unbeknownst to the reluctant companions, it reflected in the hungry, grey eyes of the minister. To think, Esmeralda held the secret of his career on her hip only to give it to her enemy’s ward. A fatal mistake. Claude Frollo watched, concealed in the darkness from the two ignorant men arguing too loudly in front of the red door of Notre Dame. A surge of disdain pulled his lips over his teeth in disgust. Phoebus was proof that soldiers were merely fodder, a handsome oaf who threw himself into danger for the sake of his newest conquest. The promotion to Captain of the Guard had been much too generous for him. Still, he risked it all for that girl. Jealousy soured the judge’s gut, prickling him with an uncomfortable irritation. Esmeralda’s taste in that man was an object of scorn, making his blood boil. Frollo loathed her oversight of admiring that bumbling idiot. Phoebus was about to realize that Esmeralda wasn’t worth having Judge Claude Frollo as an adversary. Frollo closed his eyes in contempt as he took a deep breath. Anticipation replaced ire, as the judge imagined his bloody, blond head roll from his shoulders. Stalking in the shadows, the judge’s army followed his lead quietly as they trailed far behind the two oblivious men. Once they reached the graveyard, Frollo ignited a torch to survey the entrance to the sanctuary which harbored every thief and heretic in the city. The heavy stone which concealed the steps was carelessly cast aside. Flames glinted in his gaze as he smirked and permitted himself a haughty chuckle. These were the boys to whom Esmeralda entrusted her life? Claude lifted his robe with a pale, bony hand as he descended the steps. He sure hoped his little witch enjoyed his surprise. No one was prepared, and so, when Esmeralda pressed her face against the chest of her precious Sun God, he held his head high with arrogant delight. The only man allowed to touch her from this moment forward was himself. But soon, his smirk vanished when the sound of a sickly gasp disturbed the air, and then another. He barely had time to withdraw his knife as a swarm of men dressed in skeleton outfits flanked his backline. There should not have been so many of them, but over ten of his men were stabbed beneath the arm avoiding any armor, puncturing their lungs and bleeding out. Fighting for his life, the judge held onto the belief that he brought enough men, that they were more prepared and better armed, but as more and more of his men slipped away, he realized that they were saving him for last. He could not overpower ten men, although he managed to injure four of them before his dagger slipped from his left hand. Numbly, his eyes fixed on the metal of his last chance before they dragged him unceremoniously to the noose.
They wanted a spectacle. The judge refused to give them one, even letting them strip him of the expensive velvet of his robe while he stayed on his knees. Clad in nothing but his white undershirt and black hose, the sound of cheering was deafening in his ears. Looking for Esmeralda with a sneer on his lips, he no longer saw blonde or red hair. He was going to die without getting the chance to lay his eyes on her again. Clopin, the King now stood in front of him with a knife in his hands. He bounced his index finger over the tip of the blade. “What I should do is slice your throat in front of everyone, let you bleed out, but it might be more satisfying to watch you hang. If only I could kill you twice.” Saying nothing, Frollo watched him with an unimpressed and repulsed scowl, the only sign of his irritation being that of his flexed jaw. “Is everyone ready?” Clopin smiled broadly. It was his unhurried and calm demeanor that unsettled the minister. Eyes moving rapidly, he could not pick out Esmeralda in the crowd. Did they flee? Claude’s heartbeat finally escalated. Death did not scare him, but dying without seeing her-- “Ask the question!” someone howled from below and everyone roared in delight. The king laughed. “Perhaps one of you could perform the arduous task of relieving this scrawny, old man of his virginity?" The jeers and laughter were dizzying. Claude could look death in the face unfazed, but humiliation? “I thought not!” Clopin cackled giddily. Frollo may be too thin, but he still had plenty of lean muscle. Rapidly twisting his body, the minister used his rage and remaining strength and managed to stand, punching one of the men holding him. Quickly apprehended again the men forced him back on his knees while Clopin strode over and rocked on his heels. The crowd screamed in excitement. The King held the knife to his throat while staring at the judge’s livid eyes. “Ah, ah ah!” Clopin scolded. “I think the least you could do is provide us with a fun exit after all you have done to us. You die alone minister. You see? No one wants you, and no one ever will!”
