Vitus lay on his back on a stone bench, staring up at the sky. The courtyard of the governor's villa was pleasant enough, with hoary old cypresses lining a shallow, rectangular reflecting pool surrounded by grey paving stones. Suddenly, his view of the blue sky and red roof tiles was obscured by a familiar face.
“You're blocking my sun, Cinnamon,” he said with a small smile.
“My apologies, sir,” Cinnamon sighed as he stepped aside. Vitus pulled himself up into a sitting position, swinging his legs down off of the bench.
“Don't look so glum, Cinnamon. The governor is back, and he only docked me a day's pay for public drunkenness. We still don't know where he went, but we got out of it well. This could have been much worse.”
Cinnamon sighed again, this time loudly and dramatically.
“Go ahead,” Vitus said amiably, “Get it off your chest.”
Cinnamon wheeled and faced Vitus. “What were you thinking?! You nearly got us both killed!”
“It was a gamble, I admit that. But I had to take the opportunity when it presented itself. You must have noticed that the chief guard was nervous when I mentioned the governor.”
Cinnamon shook his head, “I'd have thought you were dreaming it, sir, except that it turned out to be true.”
Vitus shrugged. “it doesn't matter. It worked.”
“Sort of.”
“Sort of? We're here and all in one piece, not even bruises to show for our troubles. It totally worked.” Vitus smiled smugly.
“I can still speak freely, sir?” Cinnamon asked carefully.
Vitus rolled his eyes. “You can always speak freely, we're friends. Well, we're friends in private, anyhow. But,” he spread his hands out to encompass the whole courtyard, “There's nobody else here. So yell at me if you think I need it.”
“I don't want to yell at you, sir,” Cinnamon lied. Then, he cautiously asked, “But, sir, what about the woman?”
“I couldn't leave her there for them to kill or worse!” Vitus protested, “That wouldn't be right.”
“Granted, sir. But, sir, if she's an Estavacan spy . . .”
“Then she's back on the other side of the border, where she belongs,” Vitus shrugged, “Not doing anybody any harm.”
“Back on the other side of the border, with knowledge of the staff, fortifications, and arms of that garrison.”
Vitus' mouth dropped open for a moment. “I didn't – I didn't think about that. Still, at least they know she knows.”
“They assume she was there to meet you, not spy on them.”
“They have to assume she's doing both,” Vitus said defensively, “And anyhow, what's done is done. I'm a gentleman; I couldn't let them harm her, could I?”
“No. I guess not,” Cinnamon frowned, unable to come up with a better solution, one that would save the woman without endangering themselves or their country. “Oh well. At least you got us out alive. I – I was really frightened there, sir.”
Vitus grinned, “Have some faith in your master, you ingrate!”
YOU ARE READING
The Baby and the Battlefield
FantasyA baby? On a battlefield? Marcus is a clerk in the Imperial army. When he finds an abandoned baby on a battlefield, he has no idea what to do with her. His best friend is no help; he thinks Marcus is a sucker for taking the kid in. The slave who end...
