The Smallest of Sneaks

Note: Image associated is from Ironage.media, specifically their prompt 'The Pauper'

In the ancient city of Everard, hidden amongst the crowded homes and businesses in a quite literal hole in the wall, Renford had just sat down, exhausted from his daily travel.

He didn't use to complain or balk at his job, it was so rare for anyone in the city to even notice that his kind was present, given how alike they were to mice, yet each day was becoming arduous. He supposed he must be 'getting long in the tooth' though his teeth had never grown. Whatever that strange phrase meant, it seemed fitting, if how his marks behaved when saying it was any clue.

Searching out the pockets hidden in his threadbare cloak, a once beautiful rich thing, blue as the summer sky, now faded to almost gray, he found the crumbs of bread he had scavenged from the tavern. He mulled over what he had heard in the Boar's Heart and what of it might be meaningful for his boss. He found himself staring at his right foot as he did, recalling all too well the price for failure, as his two toes faintly ached, the bones having been melted while still in the skin. He shuddered.

Wrenching his mind back to what he had heard, he recalled an odd pair of men whose faces were hidden the whole time they were there. They had come in separately and sat in distant corners for a time, thank heaven. He had only just got into a good position on the rafters when the scrawny man had moved to the larger one's booth, and while they spoke quietly, none could speak quietly enough not to be heard by Renford and his kith or kin.

"So, what's the plan, boss? Will Marco's idea work?" the scrawny one asked, his voice reedy from excitement. The table shifted slightly as the large man kicked, chastising his apparent employee.

"Quieter, damn fool. But yes, the backyard fence is weak, and needs to be repaired." The man spoke softly, too softly for his size. Renford noticed as the man paid for a pair of ales, a ring that looked upside-down on the man's finger. A noble, perhaps?

"Fence, boss? It's a brick-" The large man kicked him again, this time drawing a wince of pain from the scrawny man. "Fine, the 'fence' is weak; I'll let the boys know. What about when?" Both men took a quaff of the golden ales, the larger sitting back, facing out to the tavern.

"Mail is usually brought on the Midweek, or two days from now. You'll hear from me if it's otherwise. I'll see you boys then." The large man stood up and left quickly, his strides long and confident.

"Posh prick, buy's the expensive stuff and doesn't even finish it." The scrawny man said none too quietly after the large man was out of the door, grabbing his boss's tankard and drinking from both.

Renford snapped back into the present, his rising hackles warning him of his boss's approach. He looked over the edge of his hole and saw the soft glint of fresh scales in the growing moonlight. Wonderful, he thought. His boss would be in the tail end of an ill mood, having just moulted. He waited for his boss's head to peak over the edge, knowing the man, snake, man-snake preferred to look him in the eyes.

"Renford, you have good news I hope?" the man snake whispered in his mind, his gaze locked on Renford's eyes.

"Y-yes boss. Your other snitch's information was good. Someone is planning to rob a place, on the Midweek." Renford struggled to master his fear, his toes aching harder in their destroyer's presence.

His boss's mouth opened slightly, dissatisfied with the information, "Who, how many, and how?" the whisper raged in Renford's mind.

Renford tensed as he saw the hint of fangs, "I only heard the name Marco, but their planner may be a nobleman or wore the ring of one anyway. Turned upside-down, don't know which house, but he's in charge. He also knew the schedule for deliveries, and they have a third man, smaller, and foolish. Mentioned bricks, the noble spoke in a partial code." Renford closed his eyes, praying to whoever would hear him that his boss would be happy.

"Good work, Renford. You'll be paid in the morning." His boss slithered away into the night, and Renford struggled to calm himself, passing half the night before he could sleep.