Jenny: A Little Fighting Cock

The Guttersnipe tightened the last strap on her pack, checked her knives and boots, belt, hair. Things seemed to be going in a whirl. She was dying to know what was happening in the hall but did not dare stir out of the room for fear of being singled out. She began pacing restlessly to the disgruntled tune of the cat, who was gurgling from its perch and watching her intently. Ten paces past the door from end to end, five to the bed, four to the far wall, ten past the door, five to the bed, four to the wall, ten past the door...

The latch clicked and rattled. She jumped and instinctively drew her knife, crouched to a fighting stance. So she felt ridiculous when it was Master Lucius who poked his head in, looked around, and smiled at her. "Oh," she breathed. "It's only you."

"And Wulf," he said, stepping in. He hesitated. "Am I intruding?"

"No, no." The Guttersnipe hastily put away her knife and fetched him a chair. "It's just me. Gwenhywfar is still out."

Master Lucius entered and settled himself comfortably in the chair. Wulf shut the door after the dog, which would have caused a great stir had Gwenhywfar's cat not frozen into silent vigil on its perch and remained nearly invisible in the shadows.

"I have never been in here," said Master Lucius, looking around. Settling him in, the Guttersnipe saw he still carried Xenophon in one hand, and she had to smile. He twisted around to look about. "It is very cozy in this place, but lacking in light. Is there a window?"

"Mm, yes." She pointed to one wall. "It is shuttered and curtained now. The night...it seems to have fallen faster this evening."

Master Lucius made some gesture with Xenophon, as if the writer had something to say on the matter, then let his hands fall back in his lap. He seemed idle and faintly at a loss, though his calm seemed unruffled. He reminded her of Gaius in that way, how pleasantly gentle and understanding he could be, almost hen-like in his care. Like coming now: he must have known Gwenhywfar would not stir from the hall until late, and it was ludicrous that he would venture into her chambers without an urgent reason. Yet urgency was a vice the Guttersnipe had never known Master Lucius to express. Though he fluttered a little with his hands and Xenophon, he seemed almost at ease, and that helped. Wulf, Stoical and stalwart, was a thing unchanging in the backdrop of her world.

She shoved the dog's cold nose aside and crept up to Master Lucius' feet, settling on an ottoman. "Do you know how it goes?" she asked softly.

He glanced down at her. "I have heard nothing," he confessed, "but let us say that no news is the better news." Then, in a new tone, "You still have those clothes! I remember first seeing you in them, a little fighting cock, very small and bold. Yes," his voice turned musing, "and you will need that, for surely we are fighting for everything now."