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Sheep-Dog

Chapter 12 - Damned if You Do ...

Bobby studied the street outside Angel's apartment before leaving the small foyer. He turned away from the centre of the city, not anxious to run into anyone that might recognize him now that he had the information Prince Argus needed. He could not shake the feeling that he was being watched, however, so he ducked into an alley between two buildings and crouched down behind some garbage cans and waited. In less than a minute he saw the silhouette of a large canine with a docked tail hurry by the end of the alley. He was sure that it was Dan.

He was trying to decide whether it was safer to wait or try to find a way out the other end of the alley when Dan rushed past in the opposite direction. Curious, Bobby crept to the mouth of the alley and peeked around the corner in time to see Dan in the entrance of Angel's apartment. He looked like he was shouting into the brass horn that connected the suites to the lobby. After a minute of shouting and gesturing the doberman lost his patience and pulled a ring of keys out from a pocket of his jacket. Skeleton keys, Bobby realized, the kind the Watch used to access buildings when in pursuit of a criminal.

Dan found one that fit the inner door of Angel's apartment and rushed inside.

Bobby wanted to charge after the larger dog. He was torn between loyalty to Angel who, if she was to be believed, was now carrying his pup, and his loyalty to Prince Argus, who was protecting Barbara in Bobby's absence. Angel was tough, though, he told himself, and she had survived Dan before. But the fate of the Territories as well as his future with Barbara rested on the information he now held. Reluctantly he slid out of the alley and hurried away from the area.

Bobby did not have much of a plan. He intended to circle around the centre of the city to retrieve his things and then head for the coach station on the north side of Ariesborough, the one anyone travelling to the Borderlands would use.

Keeping to the small streets and alleys to avoid being seen by the Watch made the journey across town much longer than usual and it was dawn by the time he could see the coach station. The horses were just donning their harness and the ram in charge was nowhere to be seen. Probably still inside keeping warm, Bobby thought. He would have plenary of time to buy a ticket for the second-class wagon and grab some breakfast before they left.

He crossed the square to the station boldly, as if he had not a care in the world. The Station Master would likely want to see his papers before selling him a ticket, what with Pastoria being under Martial Law and all, so he pulled them out before he entered. But he was not prepared for the reception he got once he opened the door and stepped inside.

"You, dog. Where do you think that you are going?" A young ram in an army officer's uniform demanded before Bobby's eyes had a chance to adjust to the gloom.

"Wh- ... I mean ... who ... no, I mean why ... why do you ask .... sir?"

The ram looked pleased to have surprised Bobby and while he smirked over the collie's confusion Bobby had a chance to assess the situation. The ram was not alone. There were two more rams and four horses in army uniform inside the station with him. The rams were not very impressive, being much too young to be playing soldier, but the horses looked like veterans; they were very large and they wore the badge of the military police.

The senior ram swaggered over until he was nose to snout with Bobby. "Are you trying to tell me that you were not aware of the restrictions on canines and other species leaving the city in this time of war?" He almost shouted.

Bobby forced himself to bow his head respectfully. "Of course I am aware, sir. I signed up to serve as soon as the emergency was declared." He offered the papers he still held clutched in his paw. "But you see, sir, my mother has fallen deathly ill and ..."

"Give me those". The ram snarled as he snatched the papers from Bobby's paw. He gave them a quick glance before tucking the false dentification papers under his arm, but he tore up the document granting leave in front of Bobby's nose and let the pieces drift down to the floor.

"All leave was cancelled last night, and here you are, trying to sneak out of the city. Thought you could just slip away, didn't you?"

Bobby wanted to run the arrogant ram through with the sword in his walking stick, and would have if it was not for the horses and the clubs they were smacking into the palms of their hands so pointedly, but he dropped to his knees and wailed in what he hoped was a realistic show of guiltless panic.

"No sir no! I didn't know that the leave was cancelled because ... because I left my unit early in the day to ... to visit Suzie's Layer Cake and ... spend the signing-up bonus before ... before catching the morning coach ... sir. You can ask the girl I was with, sir." He added, hoping that he would not have to bring Ronnie into this but unable to think of anything else on short notice.

The ram frowned for a moment before throwing his head back and roaring in laughter. He turned to his companions, still chuckling. "Typical dog, eh boys? Puts banging some bitch over going to see his dying mother. Why, you can still smell it on him!"

The two younger rams laughed with their superior and the horses sheathed their clubs, looking slightly disappointed.

"We've been told not to go too hard on the volunteers ..." he paused to check the remaining papers "... James Collie. Lucky for you that you weren't drafted, but leave is still cancelled and you have to report back to your unit." He turned and gestured to one of the young rams and two of the horses. "Escort him back to the encampment."

Bobby fell into place between the two horses that towered over him as the young ram, who was dressed in a fine and obviously expensive tailor-made uniform, led them out into the square and turned towards the fields where the army had made camp while it assembled. There was nothing he could do except comply. He might have tried to bribe himself out of it if there was just the horses but he could not talk to them with the young ram so close and the rich youngster was unlikely to be swayed by the small amount Bobby could afford to offer for his freedom. He would have to play along and look for a chance to sneak away from the camp later.

They escorted him to the main gates of the camp where a shed had been erected to process recruits, conscripts and soldiers returning from leave. The ram and the military police horses waited until Bobby was inside and had presented his papers to the sergeant at the desk before heading back to the station to intercept other deserters.

The black terrier behind the desk scanned his identification without any sign of suspicion but frowned when he could not find any other papers.

"Where is yer leave form?"

"The ram at the station tore it up, Sergeant."

"Tailholes. How are we supposed to keep records if they go about tearin' up the paperwork? Well, never mind. Which unit are ye from?"

Bobby had memorized this part of his cover story. "The Twenty-first, Sargent. Old Billy Boxer's Battalion."

"That unit was disbanded weeks ago!" The terrier peered at him suspiciously. "How long did ye say you'd been away?"

"Several weeks, Sergeant. My poor mother ... she just ..." He managed to draw forth a sniffle and wiped an imaginary tear from his eye. "I just returned from the Borderlands after burying her and slept in the barn behind the station because it got in so late. When I got up and went to get some breakfast the rams stopped me and ... well here I am, Sergeant, reporting for duty. But if my unit doesn't exist any more ..."

He was about to reach for his money pouch when an old and incredibly fat ram poked his head out from an inner office.

"What's the holdup Sergeant? We are expecting a large contingent of conscripts any minute and I need all paws free to process them."

"No hold up, sir." The terrier said loudly, adding under his breath, "Ye great shaggy bag o' farts." Then he turned back to Bobby as he filled in papers and stamped them quickly. "Yer with the Seventy-fifth now, lad, one of the assault battalions. They're out by the north-west corner of the camp. Give these papers to the Sergeant-Major when ye find 'em, and don't even think of slippin' into some soft duty unit instead 'cause yer name will be on the consolidated list of new personnel we'll send him tonight and ye don't want to be caught AWOL in these times." He pointed through the window to a tin-roofed shed that stood alone in the middle of a sunny field. Bobby could see a trail of blood leading to it and hear weak cries coming from the inside.

"It gets hot enough to cook eggs in there by noon." The sergeant said, drawing Bobby's attention back to him. "Now off with ye, I got work to do."

Bobby glanced at the door he he'd entered the shed by. It was guarded by a bulldog with one broken fang and a club studded with nails. He turned the other way and left the shed on the end inside the camp.

Bobby saw a lot of activity as he walked though the camp. Between the thousands of tents there were pigs digging drainage ditches and more carrying buckets of slops away from the latrines. Cats leapt around, catching rats and killing them before putting the corpses in the pouches they carried, working on commission it seemed. Horses dragged heavy siege machines and assault weapons along muddy trails. In the fields behind the tents were companies of canines practicing with spears and clubs, but not swords, he noted. The only swords he saw were hanging from the belts of the rams that were lounging about. The same went for distance weapons. Normally there would be companies of canine archers practicing on the ranges but the only ones he could see with bows were rams, and they looked hardly strong enough to draw them.

It stuck him as strange at first, then he remembered the dissention he and undoubtedly dozens of other spies had been sowing over the last few weeks and smiled to himself. The canines were the best troops in the army, the rams being inexperienced and poorly trained at best, but now the most effective weapons were in their ineffective hands. It was exactly what Prince Argus was hoping for, short of open mutiny.

When Bobby arrived at the Seventy-Fifth's lines he discovered why they had been designated as an assault unit. Most of the Non-Commissioned Officers were grizzled veterans and the rank-and-file were mostly volunteers from the borderlands, shepherds and collies like himself who had a low opinion of marauding wolves.

The Sergeant-Major was a gruff Rottweiler who the NCO's called Rocky but who all the privates referred to as 'Sir'. After laboriously reading Bobby's papers he waved him towards a group of tents separate from the rest of the Battalion's. "You're from the part of the border we're headed to, so you know the land, therefore you report to Sergeant Willie of the reconnaissance platoon. We're the first unit in and recon will be the first of the first in the shit. You got a knife?"

"No, sir. I was told they weren't allowed anymore."

"Can't kill wolves with swords when all we got is clubs. Willie will fix you up with one but don't let the rams catch you with it."

"Can I, uh, keep my stick too, sir? I'm pretty good at cracking heads with it and I'm familiar with it's heft."

"Sure". The Sergeant-Major scrawled a note on the papers and passed them back to Bobby. "Recon arms itself as it sees fit. Welcome to the Seventy-fifth, James Collie."

"Thank you, sir."

Bobby had heard about army life from is father and several of his uncles who had all done stints during the last major insurrection from the Territories, long before Bobby was born. Since then many of the local dogs had kept their training fresh by joining the local militia, and they also passed their skills down to their sons and other relatives. So, it was not a totally new environment to him, but with a few notable differences, the first being the absence of swords and bows. The second was the open disrespect for the rams that were supposedly in charge.

"Bunch of fat, lazy bastards." A collie named Jimmy opined one afternoon while they watched the pathetic efforts of the rams on the archery range.

"Their sword work is no better." A shepherd named Julius sneered

"Shaddup." Sergeant Willie muttered. "Just be glad that none of the woolly bastards are brave or stupid enough to join Recon."

"Yeah, there is that." Julius agreed.

"What do you think, Sarge?" Bobby asked carefully. He was still trying to spread dissent while he waited for an opportunity to flee. "You think the rams will back up us if we get into the shit?"

Sergeant Willie gave him a look that said he shouldn't be asking such questions, and they shouldn't be answered either, but he replied all the same. "They have to, otherwise the wolves will overrun the rest of the army and they'll be mutton chops."

The rest of the platoon laughed at that, and Bobby noted which ones laughed the hardest so he could approach them privately later for more pointed discussion.

Their laughter was cut off by the sound of choking and swearing from behind a nearby bush.

"You bitch, I told you to swallow it!" The outburst came from what was undoubtably a ram.

A cat stumbled out from behind the bush, clutching its neck and spitting white creamy liquid onto the grass. It was followed by a woolly ram that was rebuttoning the opening to his uniform trousers.

"I told you not in the mouth". The feline hissed. "And I'm not a bitch, I'm a Tom, you gay excuse for a mattress."

The ram raised a cane it was holding but stopped when it saw the dogs watching. It lowered the cane, harrumphed in frustration, and kicked the cat aside at it stomped off saying, "The next time I spot a rat in the bushes I'll call a cat that knows how to catch one."

"Yeah, you do that ..." the cat called, adding " ... tailhole." In a softer voice.

Some of the younger members of the platoon laughed, but those with more time in the army including Sergeant Willie looked away in disgust. That was another thing that was different from his father's time in the army, the lack of discipline and open licentiousness of the army as a whole, and the rams in particular. Not only had the rams in charge of the army brought in a contingent of females from houses of less repute than Suzie's but they were openly breaking the rules about having relations with the conscripts. Their lack of discipline had encouraged members of other species to engage in similar activities and a few were openly soliciting sexual favours, with the famously freewheeling felines at the forefront.

"Let's head back to camp." Sergeant Willie suggested. "Supper will be called soon."

The rest got up and began wandering toward the tents, but Bobby held back because he recognized the cat who was still spitting up sheep sponge and wiping his tongue with his paw. And from the sidelong looks the cat was giving him it recognized him too.

"Hey Sid." Bobby said as he unlocked the blade inside the cane that never left his side. You're a long way from home."

"You too, James. Oh, don't look so shocked. I know who you are supposed to be. Do you think that our many-eyed friend didn't warn the other spies to keep one out for you? An eye that is. Those that he could trust were ordered to help you in any way we could, should we cross paths. So your secret is safe with me ... James."

"Thanks Sid, and yours is safe with me too."

"What do you mean?"

"You know". Bobby gestured toward the bush the cat had been servicing the ram behind. "I never figured you for being ... that way, though, after all your talk of your female relations."

Sid's eyebrows rose in understanding. "Oh, I'm not gay, I'm Bi."

Bobby's brows furrowed in confusion. "You're high?" As if that was an excuse for such activity, he thought.

"Not high, Bi, Bi-sexual." Sid saw that Bobby's brows were still low and tight. "I swing both ways," he elaborated, "I bat for both teams, I ... Lord Bobby, do I have to spell it out? I'll fuck anybody, anytime, anyway. Except my sister, that would be gross."

Thank the Lord for small things Bobby thought.

"Speaking of which, I never brought it up back at the farm because your father was always hanging about, but you're in pretty good shape, even for a collie. Do you want to ...". Sid waggled his brows and jerked his head toward the bushes.

"Uh, no .... thank you."

"Better than that sheep I heard you've taken up with. The barbs on our tongues add a little sense of danger to it. Or, if you're up for it, I could ..."

"No, really. I have to get back to my unit. ... for supper."

"Before you go, if you have any information you need sent back to the Prince just let me know. We cats have free run of the place and we can sneak out easily."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. We volunteered for rat catching duty before they could conscript us, and we work on a fee per tail basis. Every five rats we turn in brings one copper penny. As long as we meet our quota they don't care to keep track of us."

Bobby shuddered. "There are that any rats in the camp?"

Sid looked offended. "Oh, hell no! we do good work. But we have an arrangement with the pigs. Instead of burying the corpses with the trash they sell them back to us at ten to a penny, so we always have enough rats to meet the quota and make a nice profit at the same time. Of course, you can only use the same rat four or five times before it's too far gone to pass for fresh, but we can make up the shortage easily enough. That leaves us lots of time to just hang out by the command tent and listen, or too ..." he gestured to the bushes again "... suck a little information out of the ones in charge. Sue is working the pleasure tent"

"Your sister is here too?"

"Oh yes. Even though we don't suffer like you bastards we cats want those sheep bastards out too. They control your breeding and that of the horses already, so who's next? Cats probably, and that just goes against our free-loving nature."

Bobby did not want the talk to drift back to the sexuality of felines, so he asked, "How does the information get back to the Territories?"

"We have a schedule of rendezvous and contacts that pass the information up a chain to the Prince. But we have to be careful, the sheep have managed to infiltrate the system, probably got a couple of double agents. You never know when you're going to get arrested, so the less you know about what the others are up to the better."

"I'll keep that in mind." And he would, especially the part about not trusting anyone, even Sid. "Hey, look, I really have to go, but it was good seeing you again Sid. Uh, don't mention you saw me to your sister, okay?"

Sid scoffed. "What do you take me for? An amateur?"

They parted after a quick awkward shake of the paws. Bobby hurried back toward the Recon unit's tents and Sid ambled in the other direction like he owned the place.

Jimmy and Julius had saved some food for their comrade and a seat at one of the tables. They and the other unit members exchanged small chat as they wiped their muzzles and drank the one mug of ale each allotted to the soldiers for the noon meal.

"Hey!" One of the others said. "Guess who I saw in camp today? Dan Doberman."

Bobby expelled half a mug of beer through his nostrils on hearing the name.

"Lord, James, you must owe him money."

"Like half the dogs in the city. What's he doing here?

"Joined the army I suspect. He was in uniform and wearing a military police badge."

"Ha! That makes sense. The MPs are as crooked as a snake in a rake. Lots of money to be made here what with taking a cut of all the dice and card games."

Bobby cleaned his face and continued eating nervously. Bobby was certain that the doberman was still after him. MPs could go almost anywhere in the camp and search any tent, what better way to find who he was looking for?

Fortunately for Bobby the Recon unit was mostly off by itself, away from the regular training fields and the rest of the army. But Bobby still spent the next few days keeping to the shadows and wondering if he should trust Sid with the information he was carrying. Security was tightening around the camp as army filled up and he would have to either try to escape or trust Sid before too long.

Three days after Dan had been spotted there was a rumour going around that they would be moving out soon, perhaps the next day. It was now or never, Bobby decided. Jimmy had pulled perimeter guard duty that night, so Bobby traded duty with him for a few coppers, claiming that he needed the money to pay someone back."

"Oh, yeah, Dan. Sure don't want him after you for money from what I've heard."

Or for anything else, Bobby thought as he headed out for his assignment. The perimeter guard's job was supposed to be to stop intruders, but recently it was more about preventing desertion. Bobby would take his post away from the camp and in the dead of night, after the NCO had made his rounds, he would take off.

It got cold on the chilly nights and those on duty wore extra layers of clothes; Bobby wore his civilian clothes under his uniform so he could blend in easier once he was well away from Areisborough, but his plans were ruined though as soon as he reported for duty.

"Recon, eh?" The Sergeant in charge said when he saw Bobby's unit badge. "Used to do that when I was younger and still had two good knees. No need for you to suffer out in the cold, boy; you'll have enough misery once we close on the Territories. I'll assign you as guard on the headquarters tent. It's under shelter and you just need to salute the officers as they go in and keep anyone without a staff badge out. Got it?"

"Gee, Serge, you don't have to show me any special treatment."

"Least I could do, son. Go back to your tent and doff those extra clothes before you take your post. You won't need them tonight."

Bobby hurried back to his unit, cursing under his breath the whole way. He took off his clothes and put just the uniform back on, choosing the largest floppiest hat he had. Who knew who he might run into upside the headquarters tent? Or who might recognize him as the wanted collie.

He needn't have worried. None of the seniors, sheep or dog, as much as glanced his way as he saluted them into the restricted area. This was also the one place that MPs like Dan could not go uninvited, so he was safe from the doberman for the time he was on duty, but it was frustrating to be standing there, listening to them discuss supplies, weapon allotments and transport instead of running free across the fields heading north.

Drystan Dorset arrived shortly after dark, escorted by Commander Festus and a half of his personal guard dogs. He passed within arm's reach of Bobby. It was the first time that Bobby has seen the most senior ram in Pastoria and the sight made him tremble. Drystan was larger than most rams, and stronger. His face was etched in a perpetual scroll that made all who dealt with him tighten their anuses less they have a nervous discharge in his presence. The staff hurried to make him comfortable as they briefed him on the state of preparation.

"What about the route?" The stern ram interrupted s they blathered about stockpiles and field hospital sites. "How are we supposed to surprise that sneaky bastard Argus if we can't get into the Territories unseen?"

"We may have a solution for that." Commander Festus said, stepping forward. He snapped his digits and two dogs hurried out the back of the tent, only to reappear a moment later with a scruffy fox between them.

Bobby gasped. It was Renny, the fox that had betrayed them to Captain Asher. Bobby had been under the impression that he was working for Argus, but did that mean he was there to pass false information to the sheep or to double cross the wolves?

"There is an unguarded route across the valley that separates Pastoria from the Territories." The fox began. "A part of the valley that flooded after the revolution and was deemed too marshy for troops to cross in number, but I know a way. It starts near an old fortification and brings you out on the road near the Prince's castle. I can lead your troops though ... for the right price"

The description was familiar to Bobby, it was the same one Renny had guided them along into the waiting arms of Asher and his troop. The question, however, was whether the fox was leading the army through an unguarded back door or into an ambush.

Drystan must have been thinking along the same lines. "We have maps from the last insurrection of the valley and the swamp you speak of. You will draw the route on it in great detail and our reconnaissance troops will check it out before we commit the main force. Meanwhile you will be our guest. If the route proves true and clear you will get your money." Then Drystan leaned forward and loomed over the fox threateningly. "But if it is not you will wish that you had been gutted and nailed to a tree for the crows. Do you understand?"

"Clearly, milord"

"Good. Take him away."

Two of Drystan's personal guards grabbed the fox by the upper arms and lifted him clear off the floor before turning for the main entrance where Bobby was standing guard. He ducked his head and stepped back out of the way, but not before locking eyes with Renny for an instant. In that split second he was sure that he saw a flash of recognition in the fox's eyes, but the dogs dragged Renny out before he could get a really good look at Bobby.

The collie spent the rest of his shift terrified that Dan would burst into the headquarters tent with Renny in tow to reveal his true identity in front of the very sheep that most wanted his hide spread out and nailed to something prickly. His fears were unfounded though, as his relief showed up on time and he was able to return to his unit without incident. He did not get any rest though, as is unit was already packing to move out.

"The Army's pulling out today, and we're in the lead." Sergeant Willie told him. "Half the unit will go ahead and set up the next campsite while the rest leapfrog past them and check the next day's route. The rest of the Battalion will be on flank security, so we won't see them again until we get to the border. If you have any business with anyone in any of the other units best see to it now because you'll only be in camp for short bursts every couple of days."

"No, I'm good Sarge."

"You sure? I heard that you might owe a certain doberman. He's been asking around about a collie with markings like yours."

"Must be someone else. You know what they say, we collies all look alike."

The Sergeant looked doubtful, but just shrugged. "Well, you wouldn't be the first dog to join the army to get away from a bad situation. Just make sure that it doesn't get in the way of our job."

"Roger that, Sarge."

They moved out soon after breakfast. Bobby's section left later and kept moving past the rest of the unit when they stopped to secure the Army's next campsite. He was hoping that he would find a chance to make a run for it when they stopped for the night, but he was never alone long enough. That and the fatigue of having been up for two days straight made him hold back and take the opportunity to rest up and be fresh should a chance to escape present itself later.

The second day they moved only a short distance and began setting out security for the next Army campsite. The first units of the main body arrived in the early afternoon and they continued to pour in until well after dark. Bobby looked around for Sid or his sister but they were nowhere to be seen. He did catch sight of Dan, and Renny, who seemed to be under open arrest. Both appeared to be searching for something ... or someone. Bobby had a feeling he knew who.

The next few days went by in much the same manner. Bobby's section would move forward to check the route one day and set up camp for the rest the next. It was a slow thing, moving an army, but each cycle brought them closer to the border and made the information he held that much more urgent.

To complicate the issue, Military Police had been stationed along the route, including the places where Bobby's unit stopped each night. They claimed that they were there for traffic control, but Bobby noted that they had assigned the largest and the meanest MPs they had to the duty.

"Deserters." Sergeant Willie commented when Julius asked about their presence. "Been a lot of them lately."

Bobby was glad that the campaign to demoralize the rank and file was working, but it was working against him.

There was a delay when they were halfway to the border as bad weather turned the roads into quagmires. Bobby's section was in the main camp when it started so they were able to rest for a few days until the rain let up and the roads could dry off again. Rest was a relative term though, as there were plenty of shit jobs to be done while they were held up. His unit was tasked to back up the MPs on the perimeter. If he was lucky it might provide him with an opening to run for it, but if he was unlucky he might end up assigned to the same sector as Dan, and that would be the end of him.

Renny had also been brought along with the main body, to keep him handy if his information proved false, Bobby supposed, and the fox continued to prowl the camp looking for the collie he recognized.

"We'll be moving out again tomorrow." The Sergeant told them after they had been held up for three days. "I tried to get us out of the perimeter duty tonight since we have a long way to hike tomorrow, but the sheep aren't buying it. So we'll do short shifts of four hours each and that way everyone should be able to get enough rest before we move out. Pack everything except your sleeping gear now though because we won't have time to piss around tomorrow morning."

Desertions were so common now that the perimeter guards were posted within sight of each other. Bobby was assigned a spot near a creek that formed a natural route out of sight of the rest of the guards. There was a horse on his right just over the crest of a small hill and a Rottweiler on his left, who had taken shelter behind a large tree as the last of the rain spattered them sporadically.

Looking around Bobby realized that this might be his chance. Neither of his neighbours would be able to see anyone couched down following the creek, not until it petered out near the edge of the woods several hundred paces away. Anyone making a run for it would be exposed for a few seconds before they gained the cover of the woods, but if one waited for the clouds to pass overhead and blind the guards with driving rain they would have a chance.

But the MP in charge had an erratic inspection schedule, often revisiting a post after only a few minutes had passed. Would it be better to go now or wait until he visited? Unwilling to miss out again, Bobby gripped the walking stick with the blade inside and tensed for the next cloudy period to duck into the creek.

The sky went darker the rain stung his brow, Bobby lifted one foot and ....

"Hey, Bobby! How's it going?"

More than a few drops of urine escaped before he realized that the voice in his ear was Sid's. He whirled around, checking to see if the other two guards were out and watching before dragging Sid into the shadows.

"Sid! What the hell do you think you are doing?"

"I'm getting out, with your help, I hope. I have some information on the strength of the army, what remains of it anyway, and where the major units are in the marching order. Prince Argus wanted to know that sort of thing. Even if he doesn't know where they will attack he said that their options are limited by their organization ... whatever that means. Anyway, I'm done here. Dan Doberman has been trying to find me because he thinks I know where someone else is. Any guesses as to who he's referring to ... Bobby?"

Bobby was frustrated. The prince needed to know what Sid had, but he probably needed Bobby's information more. But if Sid was spotted leaving Bobby's chances of getting out were nil. What to do?

"Are you going straight to the Territories?" He asked the cat.

"Yes. We can't trust the system anymore. That fox, Renny, was part of it and he's been seen helping Drystan Dorset. I crossed the border several times back when I was on your farm and I can find my way to the Prince."

Bobby made up his mind. "Okay, I'll let you through and watch out for you from here. But there is one more piece of information you need to get to the Prince. Tell him that Renny is leading the army across the border by the same route that he led me and Barbara. They will come out on the road where Captain Asher intercepted us. Got it?"

"Same route, to where Captain Asher caught you. Got it,"

"Good. Get ready, another line of clouds is coming in. When it gets here you follow the creek to the end and wait there for the next to make for the woods."

They waited, and when the sky was darkest Sid slipped into the gully and began moving in that effortless, sinuous way that only felines could. Bobby kept his eyes on Sid, even tough he was hard to follow in the storm, but marked him when he stopped a dozen paces short of the wood line to wait for another burst of rain. Bobby could only pick him out because he knew where to look. The other guards would never see him if he crossed under cover of the rain.

Given that Sid would likely make it unseen, bobby decided to take a chance and escape also. Two messengers were batter than one, considering the dangers of crossing the border in war time, he reasoned. If he was spotted, he could always raise an alarm and claim that he had seen someone deserting, then direct the chase in a different direction, away from Sid. Bobby rose up to follow, but before he could take a step a heavy paw landed on his shoulder.

"You're a hard dog to find, Bobby Collie, but I promised someone that I would take care of you."

"Dan!" Bobby tried to unlock his sword and draw it, but Dan picked him up by the scruff of the neck and shook him so heard he lost his grip on the wet wood.

"Been consorting with spies, have you Bobby?"

Bobby thought fast. His own fate no longer mattered, protecting Sid and the information was the priority now. But even though he was prepared to die rather than compromise the mission, his eyes were drawn to the spot in the woods where Sid was just entering.

Dan had interrogated enough prisoners to read the collie's body language and his gaze shot straight to the same point on the landscape. In that way they both saw the cat disappear into the woods, followed shortly by a familiar silhouette.

The pointed snout, the bushy tail, it could only be Renny. The fox must have circled around when he saw Sid talking to a guard, but was he simply making his own escape or was he hunting down a spy to assure his reward from the rich and affluent Drystan Dorset?

"Oh crap!" Dan exclaimed on seeing the fox that was supposed to be in his custody chasing after a spy. He turned to Bobby and shook him again. "You keep your head down Bobby, and don't try anything. I'll be back." And with that the big doberman took off along the creek running as fast as he could bent over double.

The doberman made it almost all the way to the woods before the horse on Bobby's right raised the alarm. Bobby joined in the din, Preparing a story of how he had seen Dan running across his sector from the direction of the sheltering Rottie just as the alarm was raised, but most of his thoughts were on Sid and the two creatures of ill repute that were chasing him. If Sid got away the information he had would allow Prince Argus to set up an ambush that could end the war before it was started, but if he was caught, there would be nothing between Drystan Dorset and his missing daughter.

As the Guard captain and his squad hove into sight Bobby knew that he would have a lot of time to worry about he fate of Sid, because no matter who they believed about the runners in the night, they would never trust him with perimeter duty again.

Then he realized something else. As a member of the Recon unit he would either be trapped in the wolves' ambush or be in the forefront when the sheep attacked the castle and recaptured his love. One path led to his death, and the other led to the death of his soul.

Oh Barbara, he thought, what is to become of us?