The Scrivener's Return (flash fiction)

Nearly sundown. I dismount.

Father’s been strappado since daybreak.

“Almost tardy,” the queen sneers. “Release him.”

I drag my left side—that she ordered beaten useless this morning—to the barb-coated lever near her throne.

Pull.

Wail.

Father descends, flinching at my cries.

At the end of my arm, our livelihood shreds.ere…