The boy sat at a table upon a modest veranda overlooking the northern woods. Standing over his shoulder was an older lady. She was pointing at the bit of parchment the young boy was furiously scribbling at. The child’s eyes, a russet beneath the golden curls he bore, showed that they he was bored.
Zagrosek watched from around the marble balustrades for a few minutes, staying out of obvious sight from the boy and the mistress. He had seen the child before naturally, they had supped at the same table only the day before. And now, after listening to the child’s protestations and complaints, he knew that little Lucat Guilford did not like learning how to write.
After a particularly sharp exchange, Zagrosek smiled and stepped around the corner where he could be seen. At the back of the veranda he saw two of the blue-liveried guards of Masyor stood watch. They shifted to a posture of alarm as he came around so close, but did not move to stop him just yet. Both the boy and the old mistress, who graying hair was pulled back tightly behind her head with a blue sash, stared at him in surprise.
“Pardon my intrusion, young lord Lucat,” he said, smiling directly at the boy. “I could not help but hear how much you hate reading and writing. Terribly boring and all that.”
“Lucat must learn to read and write if he is to be a proper lord,” the mistress said in a very proper and rather haughty tone.
“But that’s not what he really wants, is it Lucat,” Zagrosek asked, leaning against the railing and smiling rather playfully. “You’d rather be ought doing something fun like fishing and catching frogs, am I right?”
Lucat nodded, smiling amiably back to him then. “Aye! Can I mistress Abby?”
The old woman, Abby, sniffed dismissively. She regarded Zagrosek as an unwelcome interloper. “Of course not! This is young Lucat’s study time. He is not to leave the veranda. Especially not for silly games!”
Zagrosek nodded his head at that. “Of course, Mistress Abby. My mistake. I do apologize for that. But I think you will gain nothing by further study. You should let the boy be a boy. He would be much happier that way.” He then smiled once more to the golden-haired lad. “I bet you don’t care much for parchment now do you, Lucat?”
The boy shook his head which earned him a stern gaze from the mistress. “He will learn to appreciate them. Now be off with you. You are interrupting his studies.”
Zagrosek nodded sadly at that, offering the boy an apologetic moue. “I do ask your forgiveness oh little lord-to-be of Masyor.”
“No please don’t go, Master!” the boy cried suddenly, nearly knocking over a stack of fresh parchments on the table as he reached across it. In fact, a few sheets did go fluttering to the ground. Zagrosek caught one between his fingers as he backed up a step.
“I must, it is your study time, so says mistress Abby.” And with one final smile, he turned and walked out into the fields between the manor house and the northern woods. The piece of parchment was still in his hands. He could hear Mistress Abby remonstrate the boy some more, as he disconsolately set back to his writing and reading. But as the Sondeckis ever left the sight of the veranda, he could feel the older woman’s eyes upon him the whole time.
Not that he was worried. Sitting down next to a tree, he kept his profile clearly visible to the boy. Taking the parchment in his hands, he folded it in half lengthwise. Turning it over in his hands, he took one side and folded it until the edges were flush. And then he did it again, and then once more until he was satisfied. Turning the folded bit of parchment over, he did the same to the other flap, folding it over until the one edge aligned with the bottom three times.
He surveyed his folded parchment for a few moments, keeping one eyes turned unobtrusively towards the boy. When he was certain that the boy’s eyes were on him, he flicked his wrist and sent the folded parchment into the air. It went forward a few feet before turning oddly in the air and twisting upwards before falling back down to lie limply on the grass. He got up then, picked up his contraption, and launched it into the air again. It flew for a moment before it deflected strangely and spiralled back towards the ground. It landed right-side up though, very nearly at his feet.
Zagrosek threw the folded parchment several more times. With each new toss, Lucat become more jittery in his seat, shifting about, messing up words with the quill. And after a few minutes, he was so thoroughly intrigued by what the Sondeckis was doing that even the stern shouts of Mistress Abby were not enough to return him to his studies. Taking his parchment, he folded the ends up slightly, and then sent it aloft once more.
Zagrosek held out his arm after this flight though, pushing the parchment along as carefully as he dared with his Sondeck. It was not much, but it gave the parchment the extra boost it needed. Much the Abby’s shock, it landed smoothly on the table in front of the boy.
“Oh, I am sorry,” Zagrosek called, rushing back over to the veranda. He could see one of the guards roll his eyes.
Lucat snatched up the folded parchment before Abby could though, and he jumped form his seat and ran to the banister. “What’s this, Master?”
“That is none of your business!” Abby shouted while trying to climb over the fallen chair in her long dress. One of the two guards began to laugh under his breath, covering it with one hand.
“It’s a paper bird,” Zagrosek replied, smiling. “It’s not a very good one though, but it’s made to fly. Here, throw it and see.”
“Lucat!” Mistress Abby cried out, trying to stop him, but the boy pulled back the paper bird, and launched it into the air. It went forward a few feet ad then nosedived into the earth.
“Oh can I make one?” Lucat asked excitedly, jumping up and down. Mistress Abby clutched at his arm, but Zagrosek was quicker. Turning to the side, he jabbed his fist towards where one of her feet were. Sending the force out in a tap, the older lady slipped and fell completely over the balustrade. Suddenly alarmed, the two guards rushed forward, even as she screamed in horror.
But again, Zagrosek was there, holding out his arms and catching her, but not before her head bumped slightly against the ground. “Are you all right, Mistress Aby?” he asked, laying her down on the grass.
“Oh my head,” she moaned, resting one hand on her head. “I need to sit down.”
“Of course,” Zagrosek replied. He looked back up at the two guards who now framed the surprised boy. Lucat’s look of surprise changed to one of concern. “Are you okay, Mistress Abby?”
“She’ll be fine, Lucat,” Zagrosek assured him, before looking to both guards. “She just needs to rest for a few minutes. May I bring her up?”
“Of course,” one of the guards said, opening the small gate at one end. “I remember you. You are the Pyralian noble’s servant. You ate with Lord Guilford yesterday.”
Zagrosek smiled then, “Quite an agreeable meal, your Lord is most hospitable.” Carrying the rather light mistress through the gate, he set her down against the wall, where she continued to rub at her head, eyes closed. Turning to the boy, he offered him a consoling smile. “She’ll be ll right in a few minutes. Would you like to see my paper bird?” He stopped and looked back to both guards, “If that is fine by you.”
The guards looked surprised by both questions, but slowly nodded their heads. “You don’t have any weapons do you?” the one asked.
Zagrosek gestured to his clothes, the sable black tunic and trousers he had worn the last few days. “I bear no weapons, and as you can see, no necklaces to hide a knife upon. Shall I remove my boots?”
“No,” the one guard said with a smile. “Go ahead and show him your bird there.”
Nodding, Zagrosek returned to Lucat, who was cradling the paper bird in his hands, pulling at the folds of paper curiously. “Would you like to make one, Lucat?”
The boy nodded vigorously then. “Can you show me?”
“Of course, sit down here and I’ll show you how they work.” The boy did so quite agreeably, veritably bouncing in his seat. Zagrosek selected the next sheep of parchment from the stack, and laid it out before the boy. “Now fold this in half like so,” he showed the boy folding it lengthwise, and then let the parchment fall flat. “Now you do it.”
Lucat did as asked, folding the paper right down the middle. He even made sure to crease the fold to keep it flat. “Good!” Zagrosek said with delight. “Now take one corner here and fold it back so that the edges are touching. Here let me show you, and you can do the other side.”
All in all, it only took another minute before Lucat himself had his own paper bird and he was flinging it around the veranda. The guards forbade him from running out onto the grass, so much of the boys enthusiasm was trapped. After a while though, the front of the paper bird had become bent, and so it barely flew at all, even with the boys mightiest of launches. And so Zagrosek motioned him back over to the table, where had been busy diligently folding the pieces of parchment into other shapes.
These other shapes were far more adroitly crafted than the simple paper bird. While the bent bit of parchment that Lucat had abused by grinding its nose into the veranda did not look very much like an actual bird, the pieces that Zagrosek was now making did bear a strong resemblance to other creatures. Sitting there upon the table was the upper half of a goose, and following after it appeared to be four little goslings, each as if they were swimming upon the table.
“There are lots of things you can do with parchment,” Zagrosek told him, even as he began to fold yet one more piece. Taking the top corner, he folded it down until the sides were flush. He then took the parchment not covered and carefully tore it free. Discarding that strip, he returned to the triangle before him. He folded it once again down the middle, and then opened it once more fully. “Some, like these here are quite wonderful to look at. And they take a lot of practice to do right. Some, like the paper bird, and what I’m doing now are more for fun. Would you like to see what I’m doing now, Lucat?”
The boy nodded and climbed up in his chair once more, practically standing in it as he leaned far over the table to watch. “What are you making?” Lucat asked eagerly.
“You will see,” Zagrosek said, smiling as he leaned over. “It’s a secret!” he said in a raised whisper. This delighted the boy even further, and Lucat grinned even wider than before, forgetting all about his paper bird.
Zagrosek took each corner of the paper and folded it to the middle. He then turned the parchment over and did the same thing there. Quite suddenly, he slipped his fingers beneath some of the folds, and turned the piece of paper into what appeared to be a flower. “Did you like that?”
“Aye!” Lucat cried, holding out his hands to take the strangely flower-like paper construction.
But Zagrosek shook his head and set it back down. “It’s not quite finished yet. There’s one more thing to do with this.” He leaned closer and in that raised whisper added, “You can use this to send secret messages!”
Lucat looked both surprised and doubly intrigued by this, and he actually did begin to stand on his chair to see what was happening. Zagrosek glanced past him momentarily and could see that Mistress Abby was slowly getting to her feet with the help of one of the guards. He’d have to be quick before she completely recovered.
After flattening the flower back out, he took the quill and quickly scribed words on each of the four petals. He blew across the ink to be sure that it had dried first, and then turned the piece of paper upside down, writing a word on each of the eight inner petals. Lucat was straining to see what was being written, but Zagrosek shielded it enough and moved quickly enough that the boy couldn’t tell.
Once satisfied that the ink there had also dried, Zagrosek unfolded the eight inner petals and wrote out again eight quick messages on the inside. Nothing elaborate, just something to pique the boy’s interest even more. And after drying off those messages, he folded the flower back up and held it in his fingers once more before the child.
“Now,” Zagrosek said, smiling past the boy to Mistress Abby who was rubbing her head and watching him curiously, “I’ll show you how you can send secret messages with this. You see the four words on the top. They’re part of the code. Each has a different number of letters, you see? Pick one of the words.”
Lucat nodded and pointed to the on that said “Masyor”. Zagrosek then opened the petal so that four of the inside petals were showing. “Now, we count out the letters in Masyor.” And with each number, he flipped the flower so that the opposing faces were showing. Lucat grinned in delight, very nearly bouncing in his chair as he watched.
After the sixth turn, Zagrosek held the flower open, showing only four of the inside petals. “Now pick one of these words, and remember, we will count out the number of letters in it.”
Lucat nodded and pressed his finger to one petal and said, “That one! Manor!” Zagrosek smiled as the boy properly read the word, and then turned the flower again five times.
“Now, we open the flower to see what it says inside. We open the word with five letters, just like in Manor. Which one is that, Lucat?”
The boy examined the flower curiously for a moment and then pointed proudly and announced. “That’s it! Noble!”
“Very good! Now open it up to read your secret message!” Zagrosek practically crooned. One of his eyes cast up to Mistress Abby who was staring at him in open astonishment.
Lucat took the flower in his hands and nearly tore off the fold in order to see what Zagrosek had written beneath it. He laughed then, turning to show Mistress Abby. “Master Zaggersok says that Lord Dupré is a Willie Duppie! Lord Willie Duppie!”
Mistress Abby looked suddenly quite horrified, blushing furiously at the words. “Now, Lucat, don’t use such language. I bet there are other better messages written for you in there.”
Zagrosek nodded, smiling himself. “And you can make those yourself, Lucat, when you want to send secret messages.”
“Can we make another, Mistress Abby? I want to make one!” Lucat pleaded, holding the flower in his hands so tightly that it nearly crumpled.
“You’ll have to write all your own messages,” Abby pointed out, seeming to sense just what it had been that Zagrosek had done.
“I want to!” Lucat begged, almost jumping up and down on his chair.
“Very well, but you will have to sit down first.”
The boy complied, sitting down so fast he nearly fell down. “Now you want to start by folding your paper properly as Master Zaggersok showed you.” She looked curiously up at him for a moment.
“It is Zagrosek,” he answered her unspoken question. “Are you all right?”
She nodded, smiling. Lucat was busy folding the paper as Zagrosek had shown him earlier. “Aye. Thank you. I’ve never seen him this interested in you know what.”
“It was my pleasure, Mistress.” He then patted Lucat on the shoulder. “I have to depart for a time, Lucat, but I shall return nigh. You can send me your secret messages then.”
“Thank you, Master Zaggersok!” the boy chimed delightedly.
With a smile and a bow, Zagrosek stepped back from the table, and then vaulted off the veranda. “Thank you, my little Lord. And listen well to Mistress Abby. She’ll help you write lots of secret messages.”
And with that, he turned about, walking through the grasses of the Verdane manor fields. He began to whistle a tune upon his lips.
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