Master of All Masters
By Mattie Noall
He was doomed. There was no way around it. As Kenneth hunkered in the roots of a large tree a million thoughts tumbled around in his head. He should not be in this situation. It had been a mistake. One big stupid mistake. He was the very best spy the king had. He knew how to get out of situations that no one else could get out of; they didn't give him the nickname of Speed for nothing. Yet here he was. He was trapped. Eventually the enemy would find him, they would torture him to try and win his secrets. He couldn't give them to them. No matter what they did to him he could not give those things to them. He knew too much. He could hear enemy soldiers closing in on him. They had dogs. He had only managed to evade dogs a few times. It usually ended up with him rolling in some unmentionable substance. He had looked for some means of escape. He had tried to find something to use. This was the cleanest and smallest grove of trees he had ever seen. It was the only thing this close to the enemy castle. And he had had to hurry too much. He'd been sloppy. He should not have gotten into this mess. He had gotten a tip from an informant. He had trusted the informant only because he was recommended by another well trusted informant. When the price was too steep and the timing all wrong he should have seen it. But he had trusted too far and he was getting too old for this stuff. He knew better but now he was going to be caught and he was sure that the two informants were going to have a big fat purse for this. He should have trusted his gut like he usually did. So much for well-laid plans.