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Author Topic: Lies, Spies and Gruel.  (Read 38 times)

Sahib Haşim

  • Corrupt
  • Wanderers
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  • Alias: Hades
  • Application: Plotter
Lies, Spies and Gruel.
« on: February 07, 2020, 03:39:25 AM »
“Everything you know, or everything you think you know, is a lie. Think about it; when all this started it was only a little bit here, a little bit there, but now? It’s everywhere...”

Sahib leaned closer to the cell door to hear what his guards were saying.

“It’s not everywhere.” Said the other.

“It is. I’ve heard rumors that they are terrorizing the Rohirrim. And they are even plotting to make a play for Osgilieth, why do you think they are sending -” The first guard was interrupted by the second.

“They send them to Osgilieth because it’s an important part of Gondor. It allows us to make trade with the other cities. They’re just sending trainees there. I went for training.”

There was a moment of pause, and the first guard let out a soft, annoyed sigh. He wasn’t getting anywhere with his fellow guard. It made Sahib smile softly, knowing full well that if he gave away even the slightest hint of noise the guards would come into the cell and … proceed to make it appear that he’d ‘had a terrible fall.’

The second guard broke the silence, “Besides, don’t you think we would have heard something. They would have picked us, surely, to go. Instead of guarding this man.” The guard banged on the cell door, and the sound fell on the room like someone dropping a ball a grassy field; brassless. None of the usual ringing or echo acquainted with so familiar a motion, accompanied. If it was meant to cause Sahib to jump, it failed.

He remained against the wall, still listening to their conversation, a sort of satisfaction growing in his chest as their casual talk was turning into an argument; their voices growing louder for all to hear.

The first responded with a contempt in his voice that said his companion was being mulish. “Not necessarily. May I remind you that we are not soldiers, but guards.”

“Well I was trained to be a soldier. To be out there defending my King! Forgive me if that seems to be mulish, but my sense of duty to my King, and the Princes come first! And do you know what else I think, I think you’re scared. I think you’re frightened of being called to the front lines, to die for your king!”

“Are you calling me a coward?”

“Yes. Yes I am. Why else would you try to define being a soldier as different from being a guard?”

Sahib rose, the chains around his wrists clacked, and he moved to stand in the doorway, “Gentleman, gentleman, please,” he interrupted, his voice soft and he couldn’t hide the amusement, “If these are to be my last days on earth, let us not fight! Let us instead extend the laurels of friendship, hm? I mean, afterall, if you are called to aid the forces in Osgiliath against the coming Corsairs, we ought to be on better terms, wouldn’t you agree?

The guards looked at Sahib. He could tell by the dim light they were surprised by his interruption. The first guard who had spoken looked angry, but the second looked more compilable.

“I mean, he’s not wrong, you know.” Said the second, “Listen, I’m sorry.”

“Yeah.” the first was turse, “I guess.”
Let’s shake, huh? Be friends.” Sahib invited with a gentle wave of his fingers. The second guard offered his hand to the first, who was at first a bit skeptical, but eventually took the hand and returned to their post.

“Corsairs are coming? How in the world would he know that?” Sahib returned to his seat on the floor, grinning as he heard one of the guards running down the hall.

T W O  D A Y S  E A R L I E R.
The sun had not yet risen above the peaks of the distant mountains. Being up before the sun was a normal occurrence of Sahib, also known as Sparrow. He had been camping just outside of Osgiliath, in the wake of Emyn Arnen for three days. Being a spy for the Dark Lord was only part of his job. Sahib had volunteered under … certain pretenses … to a certain captain … to be their look out. To send word every day about the goings on of Osgiliath so they could plan their strike accordingly. It annoyed him that there were also others in the area doing the exact same thing.

Sahib prodded the embers of his fire, trying to wake them from their slumber to warm him. His friend pigeon stirred in her cage, cooing a greeting. The air was cool for this early in the year. Being so close to the sea brought with it a certain chill that ran through the mountains like the river. A horrible thing, really. The flames of the fire were rekindled with a little more effort, and he set his kettle to boil as he prepared for his breakfast. It wasn’t long before the kettle began to whistle, and he took it from the fire. He poured himself a cup of tea. Then he looked disgustedly at the bowl of gruel he had prepared the night before, and added a little water to it.

How he hated this stuff called gruel. But since he was essentially on the run from Gondor, he couldn’t afford to spend the money he had on finer things. So, when you’re on the run from the law - so to speak - it was easier to buy gruel, or meal from a market. It was cheap, and all he had, so he forced it down. Once that was over with, he turned to the matter at hand.

Retrieving a small piece of paper from his pack, he wrote down his findings from last night in the code he had been told to memorize, and then destroy. Gondor was beginning to suspect something, and it wasn’t looking good. Sahib bit the bottom of his lip as he reread the message. Satisfied with it, he rolled it up tightly, and gently retrieved the pigeon from her cage. He attached the note carefully, then let her fly away with her message.

Then there was nothing to do but wait until something happened. In the mean time, he sat by his small fire sipping his tea, waiting to watch the sun come over the mountains, and grace the tops of the trees.
« Last Edit: February 07, 2020, 04:00:23 AM by Sahib Haşim »
speech color code: 5D1785


played by Hades

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