The Priest, the Devil and the Ratcatcher

The Dog

Being in the crowns guard, in service of the sovereign, pledged to defend him and his people, must be exiting, surely? No, absolutely and utterly no. it's a drab, dull, mind-numbingly boring snore of a job. With the occasional demand that a drunk fool gets back in bed the highlight of your week, if not the month.

One of these guards – drenched in the nights rain – stood in front of the ratcatchers office, waiting patiently for the door to be opened. It was early, but he had the coin to compensate. He didn't quite understand why his captain was so adamant that he had to cross town to find a ratcatcher. There was plenty of catchers in town, many close to the sewer which the commander said the ratking was found.

He was also particularly unsure on the building, it looked to be halfway between decay and ruin, the roof was as flat as a marshland after a flood, and probably just as dry. There was windows in the building, but they were boarded up to cover the shattered glass underneath.

The door was janked open. A woman, shaved head and bronze-skinned, looked back at him with sleepy eyes and annoyed brows. She examined him, acknowledged his position as a guard, said 'No' and slammed the door in his face.

Perplexed over what just happened, the guard waited a few seconds, before he knocked again. A loud groan came from within, and a loud bark, but nothing more. The rain still poured down, and he was not about to trek all the way back empty handed, and besides he and the ratcatcher were both employed by the state, and the state needed her.

So he forced the door open and stepped in, he stumbled down the dark stair into the main room of the building, a fur laid of the stone floor, a fireplace held the roof up. And in a chair, flanked by a dog the size of a small horse, sat the woman, one leg over the armrest, staring through the cracks of the boarded up window.

She had haphazardly dressed to answer, her shirt was at least three buttons from decency. 'You do know that I am allowed to defend my home from intruders, even if they are a guard.' she didn't look at her, but her beast of a dog did. Saliva dripped from the mastiffs mouth, it looked – despite being on the floor with its legs crossed – ready to attack at a snap of fingers.

The woman looked ready with the command too. Her thumb and middle finger already hard pressed towards each other. 'I do...' he said, hoping to avoid a mauling by the hungry looking dog. 'but my captain was adamant that I found you, and only you. He is also prepared to pay, a lot.

Her fingers eased, her eyes finally shifted from the window to him. 'Tu parles ma langue. How much?'

'To much, if you ask me.' The guard felt annoyed, he had stood in the rain waiting for her, to then get a door in his face and a threat on his well being, To then only be listened to when his tongue promised gold, that was just insult to injury.

'Nobody did, how much? In figures, Not opinions.'

'Thirty pounds, forty if you clean up aswell.'

'And who is your captain' She asked after weighing the number, like one weighs gold.

'Edgar Welsh.'

'Ha, old stingy bastard Welsh, if he pays that much it's probably a death trap.'

'It's just some bloody rats.' He exclaimed, annoyed with the cold, her interrogation and her unwillingness to accept a weeks wage for one hours work. 'Besides he's a captain of the guard and demands your respect.'

'Not if he wants my help, he don't.'

'You spoilt brat.' he had had enough of her selfish egotistical assholery.

'Ah, Sebastian?' She said. And at his owner's request, the dog lunged for the guard, how a creature that huge could move so fast he had no idea, even greyhounds would seem slow in comparison.

The dog toppled the guard backwards into the stairs so both they and the guard's back made an unhealthy creaking sound, he then yawned and lumbered back to his spot, curled up and laid down.

'Manners is a fickle thing, you kinda need to have them yourself to demand them of others. You storm into my home before the break of dawn demanding that I do as you say, even though I clearly stated I wasn't interested, then you insult me – again, in my home.' she looked intensely at the guard, who still fought the urge to scream out in pain. The woman only paused to draw breath and find her outer-clothes

'Therefore I shall join you to your captain, for two reasons. One: to see Welsh's face when he has to give me thirty pounds – he can keep the tenner for the cleaning, no way I can be arsed with that. And two: to report on your sheer incompetence and unsuitability as a guard, you couldn't keep watch over a dozen kindergartners, even if they were all tied down and gagged.' She finished her berating and stood ready. The shirt now decent, a coat on her shoulders and a flat hat covering her head.

'Move.' She said as she pushed her way past him. He hadn't seen it in the dark, but along the right wall – right from his current position – two dozen or more traps hang on hooks and nails. Further down the wall there were knives and wire, large coils with rope, and curiously; a long twisted sharp bit of wood with a purpose he could not fathom.

She hung a bag on her shoulder, grabbed one of the smaller traps – It reminded him of the crab creels his father had used – and one of the curved knives with a two-pronged end. She seemed to take pleasure in choosing between the knives, her finger pointing and judging each, before she made her choice.

With great pain and muffled grunts he got up, worried that the dog was to leap at him again, but the abnormally fast beast wasn't bothered with him, he was halfway back to sleep and more worried about the green pastures in his dream that his pale ass.

'Come on then, I'd like to get some more sleep before the morning boy comes with the newspaper' She said as she wrestled the door open. 'What about the mongrel...' He said, the poison not intended, but answered surely with a look that could part the red sea. 'Sorry. Sebastian, don't you need him?' The stare that only could be mirrored by death it self gave way to a more curios and confused one. 'Why? As you said, it's just some bloody rats.'