Pick-Locks

Sparrow softly cursed, it was so easy in practice, but picking a lock in near total darkness while listening out for sentries was proving impossible.

That evening the celebrations between the Pommainers and Alsatians had dragged on into the small hours and all the waiting staff were exhausted by the time the last revellers had staggered off to their beds. Sparrow had waited till all was quiet before sneaking down to the room where the secret treaty had been signed.

It had not been at all clear what was being negotiated and there had been too many guards around the conference room to prevent any chance of overhearing what was being discussed. It was taking quite a chance to break into the room in the hope that something useful could be found.

A thump and a cough in a nearby bedroom set Sparrow’s nerves jangling, but then reassured by the sound of a chamber pot being filled. Once all seemed calm again , the task was renewed and as if my magic the pick-locks engaged and the lock turned.

On entering the moonlit room, it was even more of a relief to see that a copy of the agreement was still lying on the table where it was signed. Presumably the Alsatians had taken their copy away and this was the Pommaine copy. Sparrow took the document to the window to study it's contents and commit as much as possible to memory.

Hmm, seemed mischief was certainly afoot!