{DISCLAIMER: Characters "Captain Roark" and the unnamed "white" Confederate commander/officer are copyright to Jay Naylor and are used without permission.}


Back in the growing crowd of roused Renarian militia, a cloaked figure edged meekly through the gathering of sleepily agitated bodies. He was struck with an idea and a small hope. Being eight years old had some advantages.

Emerging from the crowd at one end(corner), he made a submissive gesture to the wary Confererate marine closest to him and skirted before the foremost of the townsmen challengers - a few of the more considerate of which made snatches for his sleeve which he deftly avoided - until he stood in front of the commanding Feline officer.

An officious and regal looking "white" Feline with a great bearing and squared specticles, he gave the small cloaked figure an impression of a wise and somewhat weathered mountain. His cultured voice seemed out of place as he asked of the newcomer, "Do you think that is your place? This is no place for young lads no matter their heart and mind. You should return to your night's berth."

Instead of acknowledging the question or obeying the suggestion and its authoritative undertones, the cloak knelt to the ground and bowed and its wearer's voice responded simply and firmly, "I must go in."

The look of surprise on the commander's face was conveyed to the Renarian youth in his own tone of voice as he responded, "Are we taken for fools? I myself? If you should need to get in, you can wait."

Not surprised in the least, the youth, named Herick, chuckled. "You do not understand, sir." He looked up into the white's face and raised himself up on one hand, ignoring a warning scowl from the marine to the right of the commander. "Behold, sir," he said carefully. "A young boy on important business for his master, to retrieve and deliver something this very night. My time is short, I MUST hurry."

All the while he spoke after raising himself up, he was tracing letters on a cobblestone close before him, between his parted knees.

His hint had not been wasted on the commander, fortunately, whose eyes caught the quick series of movements, noted them and showed no sign of doing so to the townsmen. "I find your claim hard to believe." In the cercumstance the words could have had a duel meaning. "Certainly your timing is inconvenient, as you must realize. Your master will have to be put out. On your feet and away with you." The voice of authority, backed by grim marines, rose. "And the same goes for all of you! Trust we will do our best to see there is no farther disturbance here tonight. You may all have a drink at the local tavern at the Confederacy's pleasure if it suits you."

"But he will whip me for failing!" wailed Herick, on his feet in a flash and pulling desperately at the commander's neatly pressed uniform. The marines on either side brought their arms to bear on two of the townsmen who dared to reach out to draw the boy back to their own ranks. Herick himself shrugged their helping hands away and struggled with the marine on the right who was trying to pull him loose from the commander. "Please do not refuse me! I will be quick about my task!" he begged.

He gave up his clutching when the marine swore vehemently at him and gave a mighty yank at the back of his collar. Choked unpleasently, he was tossed back at the thinning crowd roughly, bruising his elbow and almost striking his head on the cobblestones, instead nearly breaking a finger. Gritting his teeth against the pain and no little bit incensed at the unneccessary roughing, he scrambled to his feet and turned and spat, half at the marine and half at the officer, "Are the mighty marines of the Confederacy afraid of a small unarmed boy? Can no one go about their business when you are about yours? Let me pass in!"

"And you raise a fuss inside to give your fellow rabblerousers an excuse to act rashly?" the Confederate commander ventured with a knowing smile. "I would be answerable for such foolishness."

"Who are you, lad?" the chief Renarian militia defier demanded suspiciously. "I do not recognize your voice."

"I am the lowliest of my master's slaves," Herick replied carefully, not turning around, but instead stepping forward again toward the Conferate commander. "My name is not worth mentioning, I assure you."

He eyed the marine maleovently as the same voice demanded, "Your master, then?"

Herick worried his lip for a moment and then answered bravely, "As worthy as he is to be mentioned here this night, his name would fetch no respect before these Felines and could hardly embolden you cowards to action. Were I brave enough to try, I could not even force my way in due to my stature. Shall I be whipped or commended this night when I return to my master? I appeal to my fellow townsmen!"

"Let the boy about his master's business!" came a voice farther back in the crowd. The sentiment was echoed and reechoed in various emboldened and indignant tones of voice and Herick smiled gleefully at the commander and dared to take another step forward. The response was immediate and no little bit unnerving.

"Very well! Seize the beggerly nit of a troublemaker and escourt him in!" the commander growled peevishly.

Herick was taken up by his former persecutor and bruised some more as he was frisked for concealed weapons. A fisted slap to his groin was the measure that jolted him out of his fear and started his tongue wagging afresh. "I said I was unarmed you Feline bastard! You watch where your bloody paws touch me!"

There were vengeful growls from the crowd behind him and Herick added hurriedly, "I can keep myself, sirs, so do not bloody your muzzles on account of a mere lowly slave."

"Silence!" stormed the commander. He gestured as he stepped aside and opened the door to the inn and the marine lifted Herick bodily by his collar and carrier(hefted) him effortlessly past another marine standing on post just inside the door.

"If I do not rejoin you in ten minutes, draw the only conclusion you may!" Herick choked out loudly as the door drifted partly shut, stopped by the commander's hand. "They can leave preferably, but if any of them take another step forward you may deal to them as they are foolish enough to come," the boy heard the man command.

A "Yes sir!" was to be heard and threatening mutters from the townsmen and then the commander stepped into the inn and shut its door behind himself.

Still hanging quite uncomfortably at the marine's twisted pleasure, Herick croaked appealingly, "Please forgive my insults and foolhardy daring. May I please stand of my own, sir?"

The commander signaled the marine with a stern look and allowed himself a short fit of near-silent laughter, even as the boy's feet almost gently reached the floor of the inn and the marine muttered an uncomplimentary apology to him.

"We are a clever lad!" the white observed to Herick, even as the boy drew back his cloak's hood and rubbed his throat and who in turn angled his head to give the marine a dirty look and suggest freely, "Some training as a servant would not be wasted on you, perhaps."

The commander stopped laughing and clapped his hands firmly. "Your business is now with myself or my captain and you should be quick about it and recall your position. If you really are a slave."

The subtle tone of serious doubt made Herick uneasy. "My master provides various Confederate authorities and spies with valuable information whenever he can," he stated calmly. "I am most often the one privaledged with the trust and commission to convey it to special ship couriers when the time is convenient. Documents he has purchased on the unknowing behalf of the Hierarchy were left to be retrieved here this night." He cast a long glance upwards with a perk of his ears and inquired casually, "I trust little has been disturbed as you have carried out your own purpose here?"

The commander just stared at him silently.

"A sign of my truthfullness is this." Herick made a motion in the air with his hand and said carefully, "To find how to imitate and improve."

Still the commander was silent.

"Sir?" questioned the marine behind the lad.

Herick swallowed with difficulty and concluded unhappily, "I have nothing else to say but my task to perform in support of the Confederacy. May I pass upstairs?"

Finally the commander's neutral, almost brooding, expression broke into a slight smile and he confirmed, "That is were the commotion of our business is taking place, yes." He gestured to the marine. "Ian will take you up, but you may have to wait. If the captain is given cause or cercumstance to wonder at his presence," he addressed Ian directly, "Inform him I have permitted the lad entry and escourt on an understanding of his Confederate compliance, but that I do not trust him as far as you can throw him."

Ian chuckled unpleasently. "Come along then, laddy. Up the stairs with you and be smart and trim about it."

Herick frowned helplessly at the commander and yielded defeatedly to the prodding of Ian's musket in the small of his back. "I know my place and I can keep it without a physical threat poking me," he said quietly. "You would be, while not wiser, more favorably held if you treated your spies with a little more courtesy and dignity. I am sore from bruising already and have before this always found meetings on knowing terms with your nation's agents a pleasant and often equitable experience."

"You are too young to talk so much," the commander advised in return. "I am not an agent of the Confederacy so much at the moment as an officer, one who has to consider security. I trust you understand my dilemma and that you will hold no grude for my precaution. Captain Roark would expect no less of me, even providing I trusted you implicitely. Go along up."

Herick nodded his understanding and acceptance and approached the stairs with Ian right behind him.