Mischief sometimes arises out of the most serene of circumstances. Such was the glorious Autumnal sunset, which provided a stark contrast between those in the light on the stone wall above and those in the shadows on the ground below. Ralan watched a guard pause in his rounds up above and grinned. It was too perfect. The guard was well lit in his white armor and robes, the beautiful sunset providing not just an epic tableau but clear target, while he and Raef could flee unseen amidst any number of shadows.

Ralan kicked Raef in the heel and pointed at the guard. "I bet you could hit him from here."

Raef looked up and shook his head. "Nah. He's too high, and I can barely see his shoulders behind the battlements."

"He's not even moving!" Ralan started juggling the tomatoes. He tossed one to Raef, who caught it with his right hand. "Come on, don't be a coward. He's thirty feet up. Besides, he won't leave his post to chase someone who just threw a tomato at him."

Raef started walking away. "No way, Ralan. The last time I took one of your challenges Captain Edgar whipped me so hard I couldn't sit for a week."

Grabbing Raef's arm, Ralan added, "I can understand being afraid of Captain Edgar, but a member of the White Guard?" Raef stopped and turned. He was scowling.

"Why do you want me to hit the guard so badly?" There was a suspicious tone in his voice.

"Because it's fun." Raef looked unconvinced. "And it's a member of the White Guard. Have you forgotten last Founders Day?" Ralan glanced back over his shoulder at the guard, still standing with his back to them, his white robe blowing in a slight breeze. When Ralan returned his gaze to Raef, his friend was staring at the guard. "I think the least you owe them is staining one of their white robes."

Raef's eyes widened. He had been beaten by three off duty White Guards during the previous Founders Day when he was caught painting the statue of Elias, the Founder of the Knight Guild, a garish red. Ralan made sure not to remind Raef that it was Ralan who had egged him on to that mischief as well.

Raef looked at the guard, tossed the tomato up in the air, and caught it. "I could hit him."

"Of course you could!" Ralan slapped him on the back again. "And look," he pointed along the base of the wall and into some shadows. The pile of smashed tomatoes that had oozed down from where they had been practicing tosses for the Founders Day parade was already hard to see. "You can run that way. He'll never see you that close to the Wall, and it's dark all the way to the highway."

Ralan realized he was very close to getting his friend to toss the tomato. "And I'll run this way." He pointed across the field toward the river in the distance. "He'll see me, and I'll draw his attention. You'll be long gone, and by the time anyone gets to the bottom of the Wall, I'll be across the river."

Raef looked around and nodded. "Give me another one. I might miss with the first one."

"Good thinking." Ralan tossed Raef another tomato. He almost couldn't contain his glee. He really liked Raef, but it was just too easy to get Raef to do his mischief for him, and, in the end, that's what it was all about—doing maximum mischief with minimum risk.

"Wait until I hit him, and then you run toward the river." Ralan nodded. He hadn't lied to his friend—there was practically no way they could get into trouble. No one was remotely close to them, and the lengthening shadow of the Wall made escape a foregone conclusion.

Raef pulled his arm back and then paused. He looked at Ralan. "I wish the Guildmaster Knight rode in the cage during the Founders Day parade. I'd shower him with garbage from beginning to end." Ralan was taken aback by his friend's bitter tone, which hinted at restrained fury.

"Well, with Guildmaster Pietro dead, you never know!" Ralan added, trying to lighten the mood of what was supposed to be nothing more than good-natured mischief.

Raef ignored his comment, turned, and launched the tomato with his right hand. There was a thud, and Ralan enjoyed the moment. As Raef took off running a large red stain spread over the back of the guard's cape. The guard looked down at his feet and then over the battlements toward where Ralan stood. Ralan could see the guard's face and caught his eye for a moment. He then sprinted for the river.

As expected, the guard didn't raise an alarm. Still, Ralan took care to turn down a few alleys between the Wall and the river. Near the docks, he stopped and bent over, panting for breath with his hands on his knees. He glanced around the riverfront as he stood back up. The only activity was the hustle and bustle of the shops preparing for the night and boats of every size ushering people up and down the river.

Ralan smiled and walked down river to the Merchant Guild slip. He had gotten away with it.