Morning all, Did you make it through April’s fools day with no tricks? Or were you the one playing them? I always thought of tricks when I was little but then my brain made them far to elaborate to be able to carry off, so I never played them. But tricked or tricker, it is time for the morning prompt. So set the timers and off we go.
I like the character, but I am not sure what story to put him in yet.
Wednesday, April 2nd: It is vital.
“It is vital,” he said, handing over the small metal tube. Alec didn’t know what the message said. He had not been told the details. He simply knew that the small slip of paper with the tiny writing on it was rolled into a small tube of paper and then inserted into the metal tube for transport.
He was a runner. His role was simply to see that the messages got to where they needed to go. He was chosen from the village, the son of a farming family with far too many children. It was considered an honor to be chosen and he knew it was a relief for his family to have one less mouth to feed.
‘Especially mine,’ he thought. The bitterness creeping into his thoughts. He nodded and took the metal cylinder. He tucked it into the small pouch he carried and then put the pouch inside his shirt. While the pouch contained the official insignia of the messengers, marking his message as legit, it also marked him out for the enemies. To tie the pouch on his belt would be to let the insignia show. It would make him an instant target.
The sergeant frowned at his actions but said nothing.
‘Must be very important,’ he thought. The sergeant was big on protocol. If there was something with an insignia it was meant to be shown. As many messengers had died for his sense of propriety, Alec was less inclined to proudly display it. Either the sergeant was learning and adapting or he decided that in this instance it was an acceptable cover.
Alec left the room heading for the door. He would take the servants stairs and exits rather than the main exit through the gate. That too would be frowned upon. Alec knew there were people watching the gate. He was at this point one of the oldest messengers. He learned very quickly the key to survival was to not draw any attention and to ignore much of the insisted upon protocol. Of all those taken with him, he was the only one still left alive. He had even out lasted most of those who came after him.
‘And I was never good with protocol anyway,’ he thought as he slipped silently down the back stairwells. It was one of the reasons when the need for messengers was called, his family chose to send him and not one of his brothers. They would be of far more use on the farm whereas not dealing with him would be a relief for them.
Alec smiled darkly to himself as he reached the lower exit. It would let him out near the tree line and let him slip into the woods with no one the wiser. He knew that while it was publicly proclaimed an honor to serve, the reason peasants like him were chosen was because they couldn’t read. If he was captured then he would not know the message that was sent. He could drop the metal canister into the water, or lacking a flowing river, he could pour water from his waterskin into the little tube, and shake it to dissolve the ink.
No one would be any wiser the message would be secure.
‘Except that I can read,’ Alex thought.
He supposed that he should have told someone, but he learned in secret and promised his teacher he would never let the secret out. Only nobles were trained in their letters and Alec certainly wasn’t noble.
Ten til Midnight 