A pox on these felinians!

***Fiona***

Fiona sat low in the foliage, peering out at the make-shift encampment. She could just about make out the occasional patrolling pair of guards holding lanterns.

There was row upon row of wooden cages that had been erected to house the prisoners. A long line of horses sat by the road, tied to makeshift hitching rails. These were presumably the wagon horses that had arrived too late to be stabled. They had some hay and feed scattered around for them, but that was it.

There was a small tent that the Crusaders stationed at the camp had erected for resting between shifts. There were a few of them smoking and chatting outside it. Fiona had no idea how many were resting inside.

Boots sure was taking his time.

Fiona decided to go over her task in her head.

If everything progressed as planned, her role was to guide the freed prisoners in small groups back to the wood line. She had to keep them quiet and calm. Then pass them over to Gerald. She would repeat this task as many times as needed. If their plot was exposed, she would have to immediately retreat with any group she had, back to the meet up location in the woods.

She heard a twig breaking over her right shoulder. She quickly turned.

And was met with a pair of glowing yellow eyes.

"It's alright, it's only me," Boots whispered softly, "gather round, I'll tell you of their defences."

***Boots***

The small group of felinians gathered closely round Boots in the undergrowth.

"It should be quite easy, from what I've seen. There are three pairs of sentries . One pair stand at the entrance to the camp. Another stays by the horses and the last pair walk around the camp in a continuous loop."

"It appears as if they change over approximately once an hour, swapping out for men inside that tent." Boots gestured briefly to the tent Fiona had seen earlier. The two guards that had been outside chatting had clearly decided to go back in, it was getting cold.

"We will strike the roaming pair first; they will be the easiest to sneak up on and the most likely to cause problems if left to their own devices."

"So here is what we do, we wait for the change over to happen at the tent. Take out the roaming guards at the spot furthest from the road, at the rear cages. Then Oliver and Fiona will get started on the cages there. Eric, Deric, Peter and I will then make our way to the other two pairs of guards. Eric and Deric will take the ones by the stables. Peter and I will get the ones by the road. But only once the gate is closed. That will be our signal to strike."

"As soon as the sentries are down, we will meet up at the hitching rails by the tent and see what we can do about the guards in there. Hopefully, the gate won't cause them to come out of the tent. If it does then we strike the tent immediately. Gerald, you stay here and wait for Fiona to bring people to you, then escort them back to the meet-up point."

The small group of felinians nodded in acknowledgement.

"Are there any questions?"

The group shook their heads in unison.

"Good. They should be changing over shortly"

Boots looked up at the tent in the distance. Sure enough, the tent flaps parted, and two guards stepped out to relieve the roaming sentries.

"Let's go."

The party followed after him, single file, towards the camp.

The grass was long, about waist level, they could duck down in a pinch. They traced their way towards the camp, keeping the cages between them and the guards.

They quietly moved up to the side of one of the outer cages, pressing themselves against it.

Boots could hear the roaming sentries greeting their replacements.

He felt his heart rate accelerate briefly, he tried to calm his nerves. He guided his party along the cage wall to the corner. He could hear the guards approaching. Boots made eye contact with Deric behind him and gave him a small nod.

He was ready.

The footsteps grew closer and closer.

They were almost at the corner.

Boots waited until just the right moment.

Then.

'BAM'

Boots wheeled the corner and smashed his fist squarely into the closest guard's face. Knocking him to the floor and jumping on top of him. Boots unleashed a tirade of blows into the man's face.

Derek followed suit, flying round the corner and sinking his dagger into the second man's throat. He covered his mouth with his spare hand and repeatedly stuck the guard with his blade.

Boots's man took a vicious beating before lying motionless on the floor.

It was all over quite quickly.

Boot's gave Oliver the nod to get to work.

Oliver fumbled with his makeshift lock picking kit and started his task on the first cage lock.

Fiona went with him and started quietly waking up the people inside the first cage, speaking in low tones and whispers, rousing the surprised citizens to their feet.

"W-whats going on?"

"Miss Fiona!"

"Please be quiet all of you, we're going to get you out of here, just sit tight" Fiona whispered.

"Oh thank-"

"Shhh! Didn't you hear her!"

Boots motioned for the brothers to follow him. They zig-zagged their way through the many cages, finally arriving at the front of the camp.

The tent was a little off to their right, it sat between them and the hitching post. The entrance to the camp was over to the left, the two sentries, clearly visible were busy talking to one another.

Such lack of discipline Boots thought to himself.

He motioned with his paw and Eric and Deric moved off in the shadows to the right, skirting round the tent.

Now they wait.

If everything had gone to plan, the gate should be closing any minute now.

A loud scraping sound came from the gate. But it only shut a tiny bit. Boots held his ground, looking to see what the brothers would do.

They also remained in place.

Boots heaved a sigh of relief.

The guards were distracted now, talking about the gate. Boots could see the two gate sentries over the road, some hundred and fifty metres away. Moving inside to investigate.

No doubt this was Roman's doing.

Boots watched on with trepidation, hoping for the best.

After a while, a guard re-emerged from the tower.

Could it be that Roman had failed?

The gate suddenly burst to life once more, the sound of the portcullis scraping its way down the frame was easy to hear, even from this distance.

No, this was definitely Romans doing!

This was his cue to move, he patted Peter on the arm, and they flew towards the two sentries that were currently gawking at the gate.

Peter shoved his spear clean between the first guards shoulder blades, no doubt piercing the man's heart. While Boots swung his hammer murderously down on the other man's head.

They never knew what hit them.

Boots, after confirming his enemies had been dispatched, quickly looked over at where the remaining pair of guards should have been stood.

Eric and Deric had acquitted themselves well, it seemed.

All the sentries were down.

They re-grouped near the hitching rails.

As they closed in Boots gathered them round.

"Good job lads, right here's what we're going to do. We're going to wait just over there by the cages and ambush any guards that come out to relieve their peers, we should be able to whittle them down, man by man. Peter and I will do that, Eric and Deric prepare the horses for the next stage in the plan. Hide those bodies first though."

Boots received three sets of acknowledging nods before turning to take up his hiding place.

They were almost at the final stage.

Their luck just needed to hold a little bit longer.

***Fiona***

Fiona busied herself trying to keep the captives quiet, word was spreading to the other cages, she was running round frantically trying to get people to co-operate.

If the Crusaders were alerted at this stage all would be lost.

For the most part people understood and played their part. Children were slightly more difficult to deal with, but somehow, Fiona managed to get them all to shut their traps and let Oliver do his work.

With a snapping sound, Oliver got the first lock un-done.

Fiona quickly headed to the doorway.

"Follow me and stay quiet!" she whispered frantically to the first few escapees.

She slowly led them round the camp, back to where they had entered and into the long grass towards a waiting Gerald, who would take them to the meet up point.

Things progressed smoothly for a while.

There were around thirty cages, each housing around fifty prisoners. Oliver started to get pretty quick at unlocking them, all the locks were of similar design.

In thirty minutes, he had unlocked more than half of the cages.

So pretty soon a gradual stream of prisoners started quietly shuffling over to Gerald's position, under the guidance of Fiona.

Eric and Deric were taking the horses two by two up to the road junction to the northeast, to complete their tasks.

Gerald would periodically take a group down to the meet up point around a kilometre away, things were going well.

After about the fourth trip the first pair of guards exited the tents to relieve the roaming sentries, they were quietly snatched away by Boots and Peter.

Oliver was on the last few cages now, the ones closest the tent that had been saved for last.

Now they had to be cautious. The men inside the tent were sure to notice something when nobody returned to the tent.

Time was of the essence.

***Roman***

Roman and Simeon stood by the gate, waiting for the signal.

They could just about make out the shadows of large groups of people moving at the campsite.

It seems the plan was progressing well.

Roman fiddled with his scarf, ensuring it covered his face.

One look is all it would take to expose them, he had to remain vigilant.

The sound of trotting hooves on cobbles, filled the air.

'Oh frogs.' Roman thought to himself.

It looks as though their disguises would be put to the test after all. His didn't fit him too well, the previous owner was slightly shorter than he was. The gambeson was a bit tight around his neck and arms.

A burly lycanthian wearing scale armour trotted along the street towards them. His regalia indicated he was a captain of some sort. Probably the unlucky officer who had been lumped with commanding the men on guard duty while the rest of them got drunk.

He was either unpopular with his superiors or new to command. That's just how it worked in the army.

The new guys got the crap jobs.

As he trotted over Roman could make out the displeased look on his face.

Roman gulped.

"You there! What is the meaning of this? Why has the portcullis been lowered!"

"Apologies sir! The mechanism has malfunctioned, we have someone looking at it now!"

"Ah fer pity's sake." Roman heard him cursing as he got closer.

The mounted man closed the last few metres and looked down at Roman from his steed.

"What's the issue with it?" the officer said, letting out a heavy sigh.

"I'm not too sure sir, I think the release levers damaged, shouldn't take long to fix." Roman said, tightening his scarf.

"Useless felinian engineers," he muttered under his breath, before looking at Roman, as if for the first time.

Roman tried to avoid direct eye contact, but the officer was clearly suspicious of something.

"Were you at the handover briefing earlier? I didn't see you there."

"Oh- I" Roman fumbled his words; this could be bad.

"Sir!" Simeon suddenly came to his rescue pointing outside the gate.

The officer looked up; a look of horror found its way onto his face.

There were lights streaming from the prison camp, as if around thirty riders with torches were fleeing down the road.

"The prisoners are escaping!" Roman yelled loud enough that people down the street could hear them.

"They take the northern roads!" Simeon piped up, adding to the panic.

"Sir you must tell everyone! They can't use this gate to pursue! They must go around! The prisoners are escaping!" said Roman, faking extreme urgency.

"A pox on these felinians!" the officer cursed, "Wait here, the Major must hear of this at once, tell anybody coming this way to go around!"

With that he darted back down the road.

Screaming commands as he did so.

"TO ARMS, TO ARMS YOU BLAGGARDS! THE FELINIANS ESCAPE ALONG THE NORTHERN ROADS!! TO ARMS!"

Havok and shouting started to take over, the party was over. Chaos ensued. Nobody was prepared for the order that came down.

In their drunken haze it seems the commanding officers of the Crusader's ordered every available man to go to round up the prisoners. Drunk or not, they must be found.

A knee-jerk reaction.

Men were falling over one another trying to mount their steeds and gather themselves to pursue the escaping prisoners.

There was pandemonium everywhere

Roman breathed a sigh of relief.

Everything was going to plan.