The Lord of Misrule

Chapter 11

"Auribus teneo lupum" - I hold a wolf by the ears (both holding on and letting go can be deadly)

"Oy!" Mikael called up at the second floor window. The silence was suffocating, and his head jerked uneasily in both directions. The moonlight lended a ghastly glow to the deserted alleyway, haunted by the distant clanging sounds of the ironsmiths and from crickets chirping in the wind. Oil lamps flickered erratically, casting dancing shadows against the crumbling brick walls and packed gravel.

He was sure that he had heard the sound of boots crunching the gravel.

He called out to Ami again with a harsh, barking whisper. When it was evident that she was not going to respond, Mikael grimaced, then slunk noiselessly to where they had entered the alleyway, slowly peeking out from behind the wall. The sentries were still dozing, their wooden chairs propped up against the doorways of the storehouses, eerie silhouettes that looked like a wild cat poised to strike.

Mikael focused on an empty chair, biting the inside of his cheek. He was sure that there was a night-guard snoring away on it before.

Where the hell did he go?

Mikael crouched against the wall and sneaked a furtive look in the other direction.

The chirping of the crickets grew louder, and the sky became a shade darker.

Mikael's father had once told him stories of pick-pockets and other unsavory characters striking deals with the nightwatch in towns like Totnes. The sentries would give the hapless night-traveling folk a false sense of security before alerting the bandits on an easy mark. Afterwards, they would share the spoils of their catch and go out on the prowl once again.

There! 

Mikael's eyes darted to his left, his shoulders tensing as he heard another set of boots scuffing against the gravel. He glanced at his sword's scabbard and his mouth compressed into a line. It still looked like an unsightly, beat-up chunk of metal that couldn't cut through a sack of marshmallows.

I'm not about to find out whether Father was jibbing or not, he thought solemnly to himself.

Mikael stayed low and crept back towards Ami's hideout, jumping in through the opening of the front window. He stepped carefully through the debris scattered about and made his way to the wooden staircase, abruptly finding himself staring up at a mass of splintered wood and collapsed stone. Dust particles swam in a haze, soaking in the pale bluish hue of the moonlight spilling in from the window.

"Do you think it's possible for somebody to burrow their way through here," he called out, a touch louder than necessary. He knew that Ami could hear him from the second floor. There was a deafening silence.

"Well, I guess I'm going to find out." Mikael reached for a loose slab of stone, planting his boot on the second step for support. It immediately caved in underneath him with a shrill, cracking sound. He crashed in after it with a yelp of surprise, his arms dislodging a couple of stone slabs as he tried to balance himself. The slabs, of course, promptly fell on top of him.

"Trigenta damn it!" he roared, getting back up to his feet and kicking debris out of his way. "What kind of fungus-infested crap-wood did they use to build this thing?"

"Will you shut up?" Ami hissed, the walls muffling her voice. "Why don't you just put up a 'Welcome' sign for every cut-throat in the area, you pribbling yeast-infection!"

"I knew it! You were going to send me out to my demise, you evil witch!" Mikael felt a bit sheepish glaring at a stone roof, but he needed to make a point.