Post by Admin on Jan 19, 2015 22:02:40 GMT -5
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The hour was late, the better to ensure the lighting was low and the inn’s occupants were largely in their beds, if not asleep. Thanks to a summer storm that rumbled in prior to the midnight hour, the sound of ten men moving through the town towards their intended destination was rather muffled or mistaken for thunder. They were careful that nothing jingled or clanked as they walked, swords traded for daggers and cudgels, not going in any kind of order or formation. Those efforts drew attention of the wrong kind, though what little watch the town possessed was likely huddling under cover, waiting for the heavy rain to break. Little did they know that the storm suited the ten men perfectly.
The men worked quickly, moving through side doors and outer entrances to reach the second floor. Each pair had been assigned a specific room and with that room, the intended fate of its occupant. Their orders were clear, with no room left for question. The first pair moved swiftly like twin angels of death, relying more on stealth as they crept up the two opposite sets of stairs towards the men left on over-night guard duty. Gloved hands clamped over two mouths before swift jerks sent the men to the Triune, the bodies lowered out of the way of the eight men following them.
They continued on in pairs, each set approaching the door assigned to them. They knew which room housed what person and the dispensation of that person. On one side of the hall was the current Duke and his betrothed; opposite their respective doors were the Duke’s sisters. They were poised, prepared to act, waiting for the next rumble of thunder to mask the sounds of four doors opening and attacks launched.
The eight did not pass by entirely unnoticed. Though the two Ducal Guardsmen had been disposed of with swift action, those who bedded down in the inn’s common room were not fully engaged in sleep. One of the Duke’s guardsmen was awake, returning from the jakes when he noted the stealthy actions. Frowning, he went to rouse another of his brothers, thinking to pick up a sword as a precaution. The two Guardsmen crept after the eight, peering through the gloomily light hall to realize what was going on.
As thunder crashed with an eerie flash of lightning, the four pairs sprung into action but not without a cry raised over in a warning delivered a split second too late. “Lord! Ladies! Lock your doors, we are under attack!”
Hissing under their breaths, the eight men cursed their ill luck; why had they not thought to see where the remaining guardsmen were sleeping? There was no help for it; they had a job to do. Getting to it, each pair burst into the room as the sleeping Guardsmen bolted awake and snatched up weapons to present armed resistance as each attacking pair entered the respective rooms.
Niccolo Montefiore / @demetriomontefiore / Piero Montefiore / @elisabetamontefiore / Caterina Montefiore / Joanna Montefiore / Elena Sandoval