When John opened his eyes, the first thing he saw was a crossbow aimed directly between them. The tongue-lashing he'd been about to unleash tangled incoherently in his throat, and even the stinging pain of the slap he'd awoken to vanished in the face of his sudden fear.

"I have a bone to pick with you," said the man holding the crossbow. Though the lamp's placement off to the side meant it didn't illuminate him so much as simply line the edges of his shadowed features with a hint of light, that was enough to suggest he was wearing the liveried gambeson of the king's guard itself. John's throat tightened even further at the realization, and he had to force down a shuddering swallow before he could manage to push any speech through it.

"W-What... would that be?" he asked. As his words reached his ears, the part of his mind that remembered his training – such as it was – realized the guard's statement might be a code phrase, and he quickly added "I mean to say, what quarrel could you possibly have with me?"

A guffaw across the room caused John's eyes to snap reflexively to Carl's bunk before he could stop them. "Are you daft, John? If somebody's wanting a quarrel, you've got the most of any—"

"Be silent," commanded the guard. Once Carl complied, he continued "The crossbow you 'fixed' for me has broken [i]again[/i]. You will repair it, and [i]properly[/i] this time, before my shift this morning begins."

John's eyes widened, and he took a closer look at the crossbow. The ring that formed the sight did indeed appear to be subtly out of place, so unless there was a truly startling coincidence in force, it seemed that the duke's plans were progressing far faster than he'd been told to prepare for.

He also noticed that the crossbow wasn't actually loaded, though it had nevertheless achieved its aim. There was no way he'd be anything less than alert for the rest of the morning.

"I see," he said as he swung his legs off his bunk. "I'll do what I can."

Though it was hard to judge the guard's face with so much of it hidden in shadow, he appeared to be somewhat displeased by that response. But he stepped over to the lamp and picked it up with his free hand, then waited for John by the door.

As John walked outside, rubbing his cheek, Carl called after him "That serves you right for not doing your job well the first time!"

[hr]

Once they'd reached the privacy of John's shop, he finally felt safe to put voice to his thoughts. "So, why did it get broken so early?" he asked as he lit his own lamp. "I wasn't expecting any need to fix it again for some time yet."

The guard took just a bit longer to respond than he should have. "I couldn't say. I simply noticed that it had broken last night, and needed to be fixed before I used it again."

That didn't answer John's question, but the fact that even the duke's most prized agent apparently couldn't think up a [i]safe[/i] proper answer on the spot did make him feel better about his lacklustre performance earlier. As he pulled out the tools he anticipated he'd be needing, he ventured "But why last night? I'd expect you to notice any damage when you were using it, but the command you gave me made it sound like you're a day guard."

"I was busy yesterday," the guard said as he held out the crossbow for John. "I suppose last night was simply the first opportunity I had."

"I see," said John as he carefully took the crossbow. Under the light of two and closer lamps, it was apparent that the color of the sight was slightly wrong, and a careful yank confirmed his suspicions once and for all. Though its bezel was mostly obscured by the remains of a gluing agent, the metal that fell free into his palm was unquestionably the signet ring of the king himself. "Well, I'll have it fixed as fast as I can, but I haven't got everything I need prepared yet, so it may not be before your shift begins. You might have to borrow a standard crossbow for the day."

The guard scowled. "I suppose I can make do should an alarm be called today, but I need it by departure tomorrow. I'll be accompanying the delegation, and I don't wish to roam the lawless highways with anything less than my fullest draw."

John looked up from his work. "Are you expecting any trouble?"

The guard barked out a quick laugh. "Of course I am, and you should be too. Not doing so is the easiest way to get yourself killed."

"I'll take your advice, but I don't see any reason why the situation should appear anything less than perfect."

"It had better," muttered the guard. "If my crossbow isn't perfect by the time I leave, your head's going to roll."

"No joke," John mouthed to himself soundlessly, and set back to properly disguising the ring with a will.