The butler walked back toward the house, groceries snugly set in a basket, dangling at his elbow. Even though he had a slight limp in his gait, from a treacherous step that twisted his ankle in the night, the butler found a way to enjoy his morning responsibilities. He felt the breeze pass him, and smelled the salt on the air, taking pleasure in a task well done.

The house was not far now, and he could see the two guards chatting amongst themselves, not far away. He raised a hand towards, Wally. He had helped the young man get the job, for what were uncles for, if not to spoil their favored nephews. The job was easy, and it paid well and it made Wally happy.

By all accounts, it was a beautiful day, the dark clouds that had gathered in the night sky, broken by the sun and the wind, leaving a clear blue sky to be enjoyed.

But something made Walden pause. He felt watched. Any time he turned his head around, the back of his neck prickled, and a shiver fell down his spine. It unsettled him so that he hurriedly went through his duties, and leaned on his faulty ankle much more than he should have. Now he had to grit his teeth and finish the morning routine. Once back at the manor he could order the kitchen staff to their duties and he could relax in the backrooms for the hour that the Mayor locked herself in her office.

Walden's knee groaned as his foot went sideways, slipping off an ill-placed stone in the road. Lost in his thoughts as he was, Walden let out an unflattering yelp as he was pulled back to reality. The butler fell, his basket of goods slipping and rolling all over the street.

"Cursed rock," he said, dragging himself to the side of the road where he could sit and take in the damage done to his already hurt ankle.

Wally came and kneeled by him, poked the afflicted ankle with his gloved hand.

"Ouch," said Walden, giving his nephew a smack upside the head. "Were you looking at the sky when I fell or something?"

"Sorry, uncle," said Wally. The other guard began to gather the spilled fruits, kicking away some broken eggs, and making a disgusted face.

"Can you hop on one foot, Walden or do you want to be carried? Between the two of us you'd be no great weight," he said.

"Yes, but the embarrassment will pull me down, nonetheless. You should go on ahead. We all know how grumpy the Mayor gets if her breakfast is late. Understandable, if you ask me, no work should be done on an empty stomach, governing should be the least of them."

"I'll stay behind with him," said Wally to the other guard, both of them standing a fair distance away, so they could not be heard by the butler. "He'll never ask for any help, he's like a prickly mule, but he'll appreciate it eventually."

"It's probably better. He'd crawl home before asking for assistance. See you at the Tomb tonight. Milo's got a new pack of cards he's been dying to try out. Little weasel's probably rigged them somehow."

Wally laughed. "The only way he'd ever win a game." He went back to his uncle and bid his friend goodbye and noticed that the old man was hurt more than he let on. His breathing was erratic, and eyes wide staring at something in the distance. Wally was about to ask him when he felt something bite the back of his neck. He went to slap the bug away but found that his hand was not working anymore. The ground came at him fast, but falling down did not hurt.

Wally thought about dusty the road was, and that he would not have the opportunity to take a bath until after his shift was over. He wondered if his wife was faring any better with her workday. Maybe they'd go out on the boat during the next weekend. And thinking about it, Wally fell face-first into the memory, the cries of the gulls and his wife's voice lulling him into a deep sleep.

Walden stared at his nephew's face losing all color as the man's lifeblood spilled on the road. He tried to yell but found he could not as a shadow of standing atop him, finger curled into Walden's neck, choking the life out of his slowly. A few quick jabs and Walden's face went numb even as the back of his head bounced off the cobblestones, in tunes with the hits.

"Wally." he croaked, reaching for his nephew, as if to save him, somehow.

"Oh, he's fine." the shadow said. "Stop your whinging, you damn crone."

"The blood, the blood... " Walden pushed out the few raspy words he could. The Major stepped close and hit him in the face repeatedly until he was sure that the man had lost consciousness.

"Hard part's done, at least." Ross mused out loud. He took a look around and felt uneasy with how open everything was. In haste, he cut a patch of fabric from the edge of the butler's coat and made two blindfolds out of it. He put one over the butler's eyes and the other on the guard. The Major then grabbed the unconscious guard around the chest and dragged the man to the opposite side of the road, hiding the man between the trees and the bushes.

The dragging and hiding finished, although Ross felt that was not quite done as well as he liked, he threw the portly butler over his shoulder and went off in search of his coat.

Hours later Walden was awoken out of his stupor and found himself tied to a chair, pairs of strangers' eyes watching him. Although woozy and still feeling a bit of shock, Walden recognized the room as being inside the local inn, from the non-descript, hospitality style furnishings, to the amateur sketches of apple trees on the walls.

"At least the local artist's been improving since I last rented a room here." Walden slurred, his thoughts bouncing around the silent room, the head trauma making everything come out in an unfiltered wave, scrambled thoughts melting into each other.

A harsh slap made color appear in the world again, in the form of low-intensity bursts, marred by red at the edges. A man was talking, and Walden's mind switched back into its old tracks, taught by a lifetime as a butler to fix any problem with as much haste as he could summon.

"And you just lead me to its location. That's it, and no more. Just this one thing and you and your nephew can go on to live your little lives kissing the Mayor's shadow."

Walden tried, he really did, but his eyes began to itch and then burn from exhaustion, and as they fell, the slap came with such violence that the chair fell on its side.

"Look what you did." Ross clicked his tongue, displeasure dripping from his words. "Well, don't look at me. Get him up and let's try this again."