A shadowed figure slunk stealthily towards the weapon shed, where all of the weapons of Ember’s cats were kept. The silence of the night was deafening and it was all that the cat could hope for that it wasn’t caught. That would defiantly be bad.
Then again, there was always the fatal save. The cat smirked and fingered the long knife that was concealed beneath its cloak. It’s sharp silver edge glittered menacingly in the pale moonlight. The cat couldn't care less if it was forced to kill a cat, but it knew that that may not be necessary and should be avoided at all costs. Another murder could end up being messy and the cat couldn’t afford a victim alerting the other cats of Ember’s kingdom with its final breath...
The cat had reached the weapon shed. Without a sound the cat observed the lock on the shed. Oddly enough, it was not guarded. The cat sniffed with distain. No efficient army would ever leave their weapons in an unguarded, faraway shed. As the cat scoffed at Ember’s lack of discipline, the breeze caused the lock to shift position, creating a small clank. Brought back to its senses, the cat shook its head and focused on the mission ahead of it.
It had to figure out a way to break or pick the lock, then enter the weapon shed without anyone spotting it. After that, it would exit the shed with its sack stuffed to the brim with stolen weaponry.
Now, it was time to put the plan into action. Silent as death, the cat moved like a shadow, towards the lock...
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Fleck wished that Quince hadn’t left a little before her. The streets were bitter cold and lonely at night without a friend. The trees in the ‘shooting rage’ cast swooping shadows onto the grass. The pale silver moonlight provided very little lighting, especially as by Fleck’s standards. It was near to being a new moon and was now only the thinest little sliver. The thieving street cats hung around nearby, perhaps hoping to pickpocket her or something of the sort, their faces in half-shadow.
Fleck ignored them as best she could, continuing foreword and not making eye contact. Soon, but not quite soon enough, Fleck had left the gloomy place behind her. As she neared the forest that stood between the two enemy kingdoms, she heard a clank nearby. It sounded like something metallic banging against another medal object and had come from the weapon shed that was only a little ways ahead of her. Fleck quickened her pace.
When she was at the doorway of the weapon shed, she saw that the door was slightly ajar and that the lock had been opened. Fleck wondered why Ember would give someone the key to enter the shed when there was no threat of an approaching battle--and if he had.
Heart rapidly pounding in her chest, Fleck placed a light paw on the smooth medal surface of the door. Gingerly, she pushed it open the rest of the way. The whole weapon shed was full of the dull silver moonlight. Fleck saw that there was a cloaked figure in there, back turned to her. The cat was filling a roughhewn sack full of gunpowder, ammunition and weapons.
“Stop!” Fleck commanded, a little aggressively. “Who are you, and why are you taking our weapons?”
Without a moment’s hesitation, the cat whirled around, dark green cloak flurrying about it. In a split second, the cat had unsheathed its long dagger from beneath its cloak, lunging towards Fleck with a fearsome snarl. The sharp blade flew forward once, then a second time. Fleck backed up to avoid getting stabbed both times and ended up with only a scratch on her chest.
The cat seemed to decide that it was best not to dawdle and left in a rush, the half-full sack bouncing on its cloaked shoulder. Fleck was dumbstruck at first, the stinging pain in her chest becoming duller and duller as time ticked by. Fleck quickly examined the wound on her chest. It was a quite deeper then she had previously thought, but it would heal with time. Her true worry was the army’s weaponry.
With speed, Fleck rushed back towards Ember’s kingdom in hopes to catch the king before he retired for the night. She had decided against pursuing the cat thief. It was obviously quite skilled in the use of the dagger, and Fleck a no close-range weapons to work with. Sure, she had a fine stock of guns from the weapon shed, but she needed something that would keep the cat alive for questioning. Besides, the sound of gunfire would alarm Ember’s cats and cause unnecessary panic that could have easily been avoided. Yes, it would be best to go immediately to Ember and not bother with the thief, who was probably long-gone by now.
When Fleck arrived atEmber’s chambers, she immediately entered. Ember was having a cup of mint tea served with a lemon wedge. When Fleck burst in, he nearly dropped his teacup in surprise.
“Well, hello, there Fleck,” he said in an awkward greeting, sounding a little flustered. “What are you doing here? I thought that you were leaving for until tomorrow? Is it urgent?”
“Yes,” Fleck panted, looking up anxiously. “Some of your weaponry has just been stolen by an unknown cat!”
“What?” Ember gasped, setting the mint tea down onto the table. He leaned forward as to catch every word and continued, “When did this happen? Can you give me all of the details?”
“In the weapon shed just a few moments ago,” Fleck explained, talking quickly as to get this over with. “When I was leaving, I noticed that the door to the shed was slightly open. When I entered to investigate, I found a cat stealing our weapons and putting them into a sack. This cat obviously picked the lock. Why didn’t you post any guards? If I hadn’t managed to find this all out, you would have not a single weapon left! And still, that thief took a good quarter of them.”
Ember shrugged helplessly. “I don’t have a guard there because I don’t need one. Nothing like this has ever happened here before.”
Fleck heaved a sigh of both annoyance and frustration. “Ember, we’re in the middle of a war! Things like this are bound to happen! You’ve got to expect them and be more proactive. Stop a thievery before it starts. Anticipate and prepare for a battle prior to when it begins.”
“But we’ve never had anything actually stolen from us before,” Ember murmured, shaking his head in disbelief.
“Honestly,” Fleck said with another sigh of exasperation. “Where are they getting you kings these days?”
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Slate sat, stoney-faced, on his armchair in his bedroom. Dim light pooled onto the lightly dusty wooden floorboards at his paws. He got a feeling that the mission had not gone well... His spy would be punished for this. But he had to wait and see... Maybe he was wrong.
Still, King Slate wondered how it could have. He had armed his spy with an accurate and silent weapon that it was used to using. His spy hadn’t been caught the first time, why would it be seen this time? It had told him that the weapon shed was a good distance away from the kingdom and the operation had occurred at night. So why would it be caught? He would soon find out. Outside, he could see a cloaked figure rapidly approaching. His spy had come...
He straightened himself a bit, preparing for the cat’s entrance. Soon, he would see. This brought both excitement and dread. Did they now know who his spy was? How many cats had it been forced to kill?
The door shifted open only by about quarter of the way, just enough for the spy to discreetly creep inside. Swiftly, the spy entered and hurried across the wooden floorboards. The cat was already bowing to him, which was probably not a good sign. His spy trembled a little as it spoke.
“I... I was seen, my lord,” the cat stammered slowly, quaking a trifle more violently. “A cat by the name of Fleck caught me in the weapon shed, my lord. I was still able to gather these from them, my lord.”
The shaking cat held out the sack. Slate took it and peered inside. What he saw made him feel a rush of anger. His spy hadn’t even collected half as much as it was supposed to have! The meager supply of weapons would barely even effect Ember and his cats. Why, they would probably even laugh at him for being so foolish as to let such a failure of a cat steal their armory.
Slate was able to control his anger fairly well. “Fleck... That name rings a bell. One of my cats is named that! Do you think that she’s--”
His spy laughed, but without mirth. It sounded forced. “Fleck seems to be a common name, my lord. I have met not only her and your cat, but also another one in Ember’s kingdom. You shouldn’t worry about another spy, my lord. Ember does not have brains enough to plan something as clever as that. Did I tell you that the only thing ‘guarding’ their vital weapon shed was a pathetic little lock that I was able to easily pick without breaking a sweat? Ha! They make me pity them for their brainlessness.” The spy shock its head with mock sympathy for Ember and his cats.
“So it wasn’t even guarded and you still managed to get yourself caught!” Slate raged, unable to keep his frustration towards his spy contained a second longer. “Did this... Fleck see your face?”
“No, I don’t think that she saw my face well enough to recognize me, my lord,” the spy answered with relief heavy in its voice. Now the attention was diverted towards the finer points on the thievery. “If she did, then she didn’t show it. She seemed to be peering at me, trying to see underneath my hood, but I don’t think that she got a good look at my face.”
“Did you not manage to kill her?” Slate pressed.
“No, I did not, my lord.” The cat sighed with wholehearted and genuine regret. “I was, however, able to make a good-sized scratch on her chest. I might not even scar, but at least it’s something, right, my lord? Luckily, she did not follow me. Instead, I think that she went to Ember to report.”
“Hm,” Slate murmured thoughtfully. “I believe that that is all. You are dismissed, my spy. Hopefully, your next mission will be more successful, all right?” There was an even and threatening tone in his voice.
“Yes, my lord,” the cat said obediently, beginning to slowly retreat. “But what is my next mission, my lord?”
“Code Red 03200 ring any bells?” Slate questioned tactfully. He said it as ‘O three two hundred.’
“Ah, yes, my lord,” the cat said with a sly smugness. “I am sure that it will be. Farewell, my lord.”
“Farewell,” King Slate said with the same smugness.
And then the spy hurried away, retreating back into the darkness, leaving Slate with his convoluted thoughts once again.
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-KittyLover8
© 2013
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