Infiltration

Serpak dropped onto the ledge beneath his window, trying hard not to look down. He could manage a height of two stories, maybe even three, but four was a little too scary. He edged along the ledge, towards the corner where the wall he was on met with the wall facing the palace, hugging the rough wall of the inn. It would have been much easier if he had been in the room facing the palace, instead of the one adjacent. That way he wouldn't have had to walk on this treacherous ledge as much as he was doing now. Reaching the corner, he placed a tentative foot on the ledge attached to that wall, and gently tested it for strength. Satisfied, he transfered his weight onto it, and pulled himself fully onto the ledge. His back was facing the palace now, the palace walls running just a few feet behind him. He continued along the ledge, so that he was directly across the royal stables. He could hear noises floating out through an open window ahead of him. Peering slowly into the room, he could see a man sitting on a bed with his back to him, and a woman in front of him, slowly removing her bodice. Serpak paused, and watched with interest. The palace guards would be patrolling the walls on the inside soon, and he had to time his jump across so that they didn't see him, but he decided a few seconds wouldn't hurt. A knock on the door of the room sent the girl scurrying away, out of sight, and the man and Serpak cursed softly. He pulled his mind back to his mission and the ledge in front of him. He needed to get across the window to be directly across the stables, but it was too wide and he didn't want to be seen by the people inside the room. Bending his knees slightly, he turned to face the ledge, holding the edge of the window with one hand, and then he jumped. He landed on the other side of the window, on his toes, paused, and heaved a sigh of relief.
Then he fell, the fragile ledge crumbling under the force of his impact. His arms flailed about, desperately trying to latch onto something, anything. The third-storey window flashed past him to his right. Then his fingers hooked onto the ledge that ran under the third-storey window. His fall stopped abruptly, feet dangling wildly, and his heart pounding against his chest. Making a mental note never to stay in that inn ever again, he hauled himself onto the ledge. He was in level with the top of the palace wall now. The ledge he was on before would have given him the height he needed to reach the wall, but now he wasn't sure if he would make it across. He would need an extra push to propell him forwards...
Or backwards. Turning around so that his back was to the palace wall again, he placed one foot on the wall of the inn, keeping the other firmly on the ledge. He bent his legs, readying himself for another jump, and then pushed hard with all his strength. He flew backwards, rotating at the same time. The world spun around him, and one moment, he was upside down, looking at the palace and the roof of the stables, and in the next he was on the palace wall, facing the inn. He turned, his arms spread out to balance himself, and saw the tiled roof of the stables directly in front of him. Beyond it, he could see the palace lawns, and past that sat the palace, grim and daunting in the darkness of night. He heard a pair of guards coming on their rounds, and he leapt quickly to stable's roof. He ran to the other side and plunged softly into a bush beneath.
Now was the hard part. The lawns were expansive, and at the far end were bushes and trees surrounding the palace. Between, there was nothing but grass. And patrolling guards. Serpak held his breath as two guards, in conical helmets, and breastplates with the royal sigil stamped on them, swords hanging from their sides, walked by. They were on time. He had been watching the guards every night, for five nights, from the top of a tower in the city, and their routine was always the same. Four pairs of guards patrolled the lawns, their paths parallel to each other, spanning the length of the lawns. While two pairs reached opposite ends of the lawns, the other two were at the centre, walking in different directions. That was when he had to cross.
He waited for two pairs to reach the ends, and just before they turned he sprinted across the lawns, passing behind the guards at the centre, a whisper's distance from their backs. His footfalls barely made a sound as he flew across the grounds. Just 20 feet to the bushes and trees.
The guards reached the ends and stopped.
10 feet.
The guards started turning.
And then he reached the bushes, diving into them, his heart in his mouth. Crouching low behind the bushes, Serpak made his way to the kitchens. The kitchen door was sunken into wall, shrouded in darkness, and the guards that stood sentinel beside it were barely visibly. Serpak reached the door, and paused behind a bush next to it, just in time to see the guards walk out to greet the next shift. He was just in time. A few minutes late and he would have had to wait six hours for the next shift and his chance to get in. He slipped quietly into the doorway as the guards conversed with each other, and without making a sound, he let himself into the kitchens.
Long tables occupied most of the kitchens, with pots and pans, goblets and glasses, spoons and ladels, and other utensils Serpak wasn't bothered to identify. Flickering light from a candle flame made the knives and other cutting tools, hanging from hooks, look eery and foreboding. Serpak cautiously made his way to a door at the other end of the room, unsure about his surroundings. He had visited the palace many times in the past few days, under the pretense of being a petitioner to the king. He had explored the entire palace, pretending to be lost when guards approached him, but he had never been allowed to enter the kitchens.
The door opened into a dark and empty hallway which Serpak recognized instantly. It led to the servants' quarters on the right, but Serpak headed left, towards the dining hall.
The dining hall was richly decorated, a sudden contrast to the dreary hallway Serpak emerged from. The stony walls were festooned with thick tapestries, with intricate designs on them, and long silk curtains. Dining tables were arranged head-to-head along the walls, interrupted in three places by doors. One set of doors led to the main atrium, where the king held his audiences, and another led to the private quarters of the royal family and their guests. The third set, to which Serpak headed, led to the trophy room. They were large, iron double-doors, inlaid with bronze. Just as Serpak started to push them open, he heard voices. They came from the other side of the doors, and they were coming closer. Without thinking, Serpak dived behind a tapestry next to him, just as the doors opened, letting a pair of guards out. He waited till the guards left the room before slipping into the trophy room. Then, he froze.
The throne room was a large, elongated hall. The wall to Serpak's right was adorned with stuffed heads of wild animals, decorated masks, and shields with sigils printed on them, and sconces with fires burning in them. Against the wall to his left stood a row of statues, marble likenesses of past kings and monsters, and armour suits. But Serpak hadn't noticed any of it, his eyes rivetted, instead, on the two soldiers at the other end of the room, guarding a door, chatting idly.

Jin stifled a yawn, and nodded vigorously at his friend, barely hearing what he was saying. His eyes wandered to the statues lining the wall behind his friend. The life sized figure of King Gorn V held his interest more than his friend's quips about how to bake buns, or some such thing. A fleeting movement from the corner of his eye caught his attention.
"Did you see that, Tag?" he asked his friend, interrupting his narrative on how to date mums.
"What?" said Tag, looking at the door leading to the dining hall. "I don't see anything. I think the drink has gotten to you. So as i was saying, a -"
"I could have sworn i saw something dart into the statues," Jin cut him off, slowly advancing towards the door and the statues.
"You must cut down on that ale. Wait, let me lock this door, and then i will bring a torch."
The two men proceeded slowly, Tag holding the torch high in the air. Shadows shrunk away as they reached the door.
"See. Nothing here. It was pro-"
Tag was cut off, yet again, this time by a dull thud coming from the cellar door. Running towards the door, they found the source of the sound, a rounded padlock.
"Guess i didn't lock it properly," Tag said with a shrug.

Serpak found himself inside the cellar, breathing deeply. That had been too close, and he berated himself for the slip-up. The cellar was dark, and Serpak could barely see the giant silhoutes of wine and ale barrels. He had been down here once before, and he knew that there was a door at the other end leading to the dungeons below. This time he was more cautious as he made his way down the winding steps into a circular room. A fat guard was sleeping on a rotten chair, snoring loudly. The candle light cast gaunt shadows on the rough walls as Serpak crawled towards the guard. A bundle of rings hung from his belt, along with a short sword. Gently, Serpak tried to ease the bundle out of the belt. The guard grunted and shifted in his seat, and Serpak snatched his hand back. He gave it another shot, but this time the guard turned over, and the keys were lost under the copious amounts of fat.
Deciding he could continue without them, Serpak made his way towards a hallway, with prison cells on either side of it. His shadow preceded him as he entered the hallway, and then he noticed the shadow was growing steadily larger. He dropped himself, spinning around at the same time, to see a short sword slicing through the air his head had occupied moments ago. Knives flashed into his hands, and he flung them underarm, towards the guard's face. The guard crashed into a heap, hilts sticking out from his eyes, blood bubbling out from them. Retrieving the knives, Serpak continued into the hallway. He found the cell he was searching for. He drew out a knife with a long sinuous blade, and with it he picked the lock of the cell.
"Who's there?" came a trembling voice.
"It's me, Vidyrk. How could you forget so quickly?" Serpak rasped.
"Oh. Bless you, Serpak. Quick, get me out of these chains. This place makes me sick."
If it was cold in the dungeon, then Serpak's laugh was freezing. "I don't think you understand, my friend. I don't do rescues."
The look of confusion on Vidyrk's face slowly contorted into a look of pure trepidation when he noticed the curved blade still in Serpak's hands.
"No. Please no. I tried, i swear. You can't do this to me," Vidyrk pleaded, the pitch of his voice steadily rising.
"Watch me." The blade found his heart.