WOT Adv 95

--- The Wheel Turns ---
Fiznak studied the cottage and the inn for a few moments, and then nodded. "The windows on the south side seem to be less visible from the inn, but the backdrop of the forest on the north side will provide ideal silhouette cover so they would most likely never even catch a glimpse of us. I think the north windows to be our best course of action. Finding out how to break that window without them hearing us is your job."

Maynard nodded and Fiznak continued. "If they do hear us, then we will just have to move faster --the horses aren't far away, and I've been wanting a good ride for some time," Fiznak said with a wide grin.

Maynard returned a small serious smile. "Well thought out borderlander. Very well then. Let's go." Maynard led the way slightly north and then west, still using as many trees for cover while Fiznak followed behind.

Without the downpour, any slight sound seemed loud by relative comparison to the previous pounding sound of heavy and persistent rain.

Maynard stopped and held up his hand once they reached the edge of the trees. "Now we must move even more carefully. Once we reach the north windows, I'll get them open and you will go inside while I provide cover with the bow."

Fiznak gave a curt nod and loosened the blade in his scabbard. The inn was well lit and Seanchan soldiers could be seen moving about inside on the main floor. Most didn't appear to be watching the windows though, distracted as they were with caring for the wounded and the dying.

"Now!" Maynard whispered and in a low trot dashed across the opening towards the northern wall of Bryna's home. Fiznak followed and flattened himself against the wall with Maynard.

Maynard studied the front of the inn for a moment. The sounds of the moaning and occasional screaming of the wounded punctuated the stillness of the night. A moment of silence, and then another scream and at the same time Maynard smashed his elbow into the window, smashing the glass and then with his arm wrapped in his cloak, he cleared away the bits and pieces of glass. "Go!" Maynard commanded. He had dropped to one knee, his bow at the ready, scanning the inn for any threat.

Fiznak nodded, dropped his bow and started to squeeze through the small window, his arms, then his head. He heaved himself forward. "Burn me!" he breathed. "I'm stuck."

"Just keep moving," Maynard muttered, still scanning the inn.

Fiznak pulled and grunted and eventually made it through. The inside of the cottage was dark. "What am I looking for?"

"A small slate tablet." Maynard replied quietly.

Fiznack waited for his eyes to adjust further to the deepened darkness.

In the darkness, he could barely make out the broken crockery and furniture that was scattered throughout what used to be a tidy kitchen. "Light, what happened here?" He said to himself.

He took a few tentative steps into the darkness, trying to move quietly. But in the darkness Fiznak tripped over an overturned chair and pitched forward into a shelves full of dishes and herbs. The crashing sound shattered the stillness The entire shelve collapsed with a crashing sound that filled the night.

"Light!" came Maynard's voice. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine," Fiznack growled as he pulled himself to his feet and felt wetness on his left hand where he cut himself on the shards of pottery.

"Find it quickly and get out! They're coming!" Maynard whispered fiercely. The shouts of the Seanchan could be heard from across the street.

Fiznack frantically searched among the shattered remains of the kitchen. After righting an overturned chair saw there on the ground under shards of a broken pot, a small slate tablet. He couldn't make out any details in the darkness, but snatched it up. "I got it!"

"Good, they haven't seen me yet. Let's go!" Maynard said. "Hurry!"

Fiznak looked about. Which way should he leave? The window, quietly with less chance of being spotted, but with a greater chance of possibly getting stuck again, or out the broken and smashed front door that hung on its hinges, where he would more likely be spotted? He spared a glance through the doorway, facing toward the inn and saw some half dozen figures spill out of the inn, weapons in hand.

"Light!" he muttered.