Fleas - Songs of the Gnolls I

WHEN FLEAS BITE THE DOG 7.2

Dannke paced the room nervously. Fleas didn't dare look at him.

"I'm sorry."

Dannke looked at him dead serious.

"You're sorry? You're sorry?! Do you have any idea what I had to do to get Heli... the Empress to let you go? You commit such a mistake. And you're painting it! I can't believe how careless you are," he took a deep breath and paused. "Never mind, never mind. They may suspect, but no one knows for sure that it was you. On top of that, you picked the worst possible time... with the extermination that has already begun..."

"Extermination?"

"At the Council, the Empress decided to kill all non-human slaves."

Fleas opened his mouth in surprise. Then he remembered Pli's words about the sewers. If he could warn everyone, they might be able to save themselves. Could he help in some way? First he would have to escape. But... that meant leaving behind the things Bekwin had given him. He had the key and the door was locked. He could come back later.

"Fleas, tell me everything you know about your tribe. Then at least I can say you helped us if they accuse you."

"I don't think it will help. It's not just my tribe that's headed this way. The gnome told me that a very powerful warrior is leading them. And he belongs to another species."

Dannke slapped his forehead. His face showed utter hopelessness.

"Well, then I have no choice. I'll have to go ahead with my plans."

He picked up his bag, closed the door, turned the key and locked Fleas inside. Fleas waited a bit in case Dannke returned and analyzed the lock. There had to be a way to open it. He used the knife as a lever, but only managed to bend it. He had to make the same movement in the opposite direction to return it to its original shape. He searched in vain for another key that Dannke had forgotten. He didn't have anything resembling an axe either.

He sighed, he knew how he could escape, but he did not want to go to such extremes. He went to the window, opened it and looked out. The adjoining rooms were empty, but only the one on the left had an open window. He looked down. The fall was indescribable, and the wind howled at times, pressing his clothes against his chest like a ship's sail. He slung his bag over his shoulder and looped his belt into a kind of lasso, put half of his body out the window and tried not to look down, not to think about what would happen if he fell. With an inelegant motion of his hand, he threw the belt to his left, as if it were a whip. He made several unsuccessful attempts until the buckle caught on one of the window hinges. He took a deep breath before making the leap of faith, grabbed the belt with all his might, and lowered his body gently until he was hanging from it. The hinge released a little dust, but did not move. What temporary insanity had driven him to such an act? Better not to analyze it, not until he was safe. Very slowly, without any sudden movements, he climbed up until he reached the frame. He ascended and threw himself inside. Then he could breathe. His legs were shaking, but he ignored them and began to run.

He reached the entrance of the gardens. Maybe he could sneak through the sewers like Pli had done. A guard cut him off.

"What are you doing here? Wait, you're the hyaenid. They say you had something to do with the murder of a guard."

Fleas tried to make up an excuse, but realized it was nonsense. He turned and ran.

"Hey, don't let him get away!"

The guards crowded around his back.

"No, don't hurt him," said one behind him, "he has information about the rebels."

Were they going to shoot him? Fleas was fast, even faster than before. Perhaps it was because he was well fed now, and had even grown a little. He felt it in his clothes and the way they fit. He ran the last part of the way on all fours, as he had done in the savannah. He hurried to the gate that led to the stables, for to leave through the main gate would be suicide, given the number of guards stationed there. He heard the confusion of the guards watching the entrance. As he passed the door to the stables, a spear flew close to him and stuck in the wood.

"Stop, or I will kill you myself!" Shouted the first guard he encountered, already exhausted and very irritated.

Fleas obeyed, stood up on his paws and slowly turned around. Six guards approached with their bloodthirsty weapons. Fleas wanted to cry. Now they would really torture him. He screamed in fear and closed his eyes tightly.

A loud noise was heard. The stable door flew open and hit the guards, who had no time to react. Only one of them managed to get up, but an animal ran over him with all the speed it could muster. It was Surly. The animal turned and looked at him. It exhaled loudly. Fleas grinned, showing all his sharp teeth. He took a step towards it, but Surly took two steps back. It was still afraid of him. Fleas noticed that it lifted its right hind leg slightly. It had cut itself. He took off the hankerchief he loved so much, the one with the little golden paw print, and slowly approached.

"Don't be afraid, it's all right. Don't be afraid, this is it. That's it."

Fleas managed to bandage his wound. Surly felt calmer. Why was that? Then, as if it knew that their lives were in danger, it lay down and let itself be mounted.

Fleas had no time to rejoice, for he heard the footsteps of several guards running in his direction. Surly jumped to his feet and struck hard at any soldier who dared cross their path, until both of them were lost in the complex web of streets that was already a chaos of people due to the situation. But Surly did not hit any of them. It was agile and seemed to fly like a feather.