*
Now in uniform, Ralik and Doran both followed Sergeant Fisk back out to the fairgrounds where the noise of construction was beginning to fade with the day’s last rays of light. A bearded man in a long shimmering purple robe met them at the edge of the encampment.
“Good evening, Count Algernon.” The Sergeant extended his hand to the robed man, who shook it quickly. “Here are the guards you requested for your grounds tonight.” Count Algernon glanced at them both dubiously, and Ralik could predict what turn the conversation was to now take.
“Eez zees a humor, Sergeant Fizk? Zees are just boys.”
“It is no joke. They have my full confidence and are experienced in the task at hand. They are to guard the grounds until the moon has waned,” countered Sergeant Fisk deftly. Ralik nodded and tried his best to appear confident and professional.
“Oh, very vell,” surrendered the Count as he gazed at them over his bulbous nose. “I muzt return to zee work I muzt be doing. Zank you.” They watched the man saunter back into the midst of the encircled wagons and disappear.
“Ok, I know I can count on you two,” stated Fisk. “Remember you represent the militia, so don’t let us down. Ralik, you take position here by the sign, and Doran, on the other side next to the red and white tent. I want you two to switch positions every hour; it will help you stay alert.”
“Yes, Sergeant!” they both replied
“I’ll return at the waning of the moon to relieve you both.” Sergeant Fisk’s hard boots crunched the ground as he retreated back into the darkness between the field and town.
“See you in an hour. Don’t fall asleep!” teased Ralik.
“Ha! You don’t fall asleep,” Doran countered. The hours passed slowly as Ralik watched the moon drift across the night’s sky. He and Doran had traded posts for a fourth time and now Ralik stood beyond the tent, trying very hard not to yawn as he fought a losing battle with his heavy eyelids. From beyond the tent, within the encampment behind him, a soft shuffle of footsteps caught his faltering attention. He quietly peered around the tent, hoping to see Studus or one of his little cronies attempting to trespass into the interior of the camp. He would love to sound the alarm on one of them and see the look on his face after getting caught. Instead, he saw the slight form of a girl with a wicker basket slung over her arm, making her way cautiously between the animal cages. Ralik could tell she was trying to remain covert because she frequently stopped and crouched in a shadow, as if waiting for something to pass before continuing on. He couldn’t see her very clearly, but he was fairly certain she was not one of the girls from his town. He became suspicious of her and decided to check out what was going on for himself. Besides, he desperately wanted to go into the encampment and have a look around, so he slowly approached her as she withdrew something from her basket. It looked round and very much like a loaf of bread!
What circus animal would eat a loaf of bread? Perhaps one of the monkeys? The cage she was reaching into was far too large to be a monkey cage. He crept closer. As feeding the animals loaves of bread by hand wasn’t strange enough, she poured water into a cup and put it inside the cage. He wanted to get to the bottom of what was going on, but he didn’t want to scare her, as his suspicion had given way to curiosity.
“Psst!” he signaled. The girl stopped her movement and stayed very still. “Psssst!” Ralik signaled louder. This time the girl rotated her head in his direction, and seeing his silhouette in the darkness, skittered around the other side of the cage as if to run away. “Wait. Don’t run,” he called as loudly as he dared. He saw the shadow of the side of her face peeking out from behind the cage.
“Who are you?” she asked in a similar harsh whisper.
“I’m supposed to be guarding the circus encampment from trespassers for Count Algernon,” he answered. “Are you with the circus?” He glanced around to make sure no one else was about, and then crouched down next to another wagon-cage. He saw her hand and arm shoot out from behind her cover and beacon him to approach. Still in a low crouch, he trotted over to the cage and took a position next to her. He couldn’t see her face in the shadows, but he could sense she was sizing him up.
“I’m one of the acrobats,” she said at length. “You’re not going to tell anyone what I’m doing, are you?” Taken aback by the girl’s concern he might tell on her, he shook his head.
“What are you doing?” he asked the girl softly, his curiosity getting the better of him. She hesitated. Ralik guessed she was trying to decide if she could trust him.
“I’m, I’m just checking on the animals,” she said at last. He grimaced at the lie, but understood why she would be hesitant to tell someone claiming to be a guard the truth. He wasn’t going to leave it at that, however.
“Ok, fair enough, but you have to tell me what kind of animal drinks from a cup. I saw you, put a cup of water in this cage,” Ralik lifted the tarp that covered the bars of the cage and peered in quickly, but it was too dark to see anything, and nothing inside moved.
“I, I have to go.” She started to get up and move to the next cage.
“Wait. I’m Ralik, what’s your name?” he asked. He waited what seemed like several seconds for her reply.
“I’ll see you tomorrow at the circus, Ralik,” she answered finally. “Goodbye.” She quickly disappeared behind another wagon and was gone. Frustrated, Ralik returned to his post just as Doran strode up to switch positions with him.
“What were you doing?”
“Oh, I thought I heard something in there. It was nothing, just a restless animal,” he lied.
“The moon has waned; Sergeant Fisk will be waiting for us back at the No Trespassing sign. Let’s getting going.” Ralik nodded and fell into step beside his friend. He resisted the urge to glance into the encampment as they circumvented its perimeter. The Sergeant was waiting for them at the sign.
“Report.”
“Nothing of note, Sergeant,” said Doran. Ralik wondered if he should tell Fisk about the girl and her strange activities. Giving an animal a cup to drink from could be considered something of note.
“Ralik?” prompted the Sergeant.
“Oh, no, nothing of note, Sergeant.” Ralik didn’t like lying to Fisk. He respected the man too much, but he had also promised the circus girl he wouldn’t reveal her activities.
“Very well. You both are relieved,” ordered Fisk. “Good work.”