Hamish sat astride a dull gray mare as he entered the city again. He could easily use his credentials to requisition a car or motorbike but that meant leaving a trail. Horses were cheap, easy to come by, and stable masters asked no questions. Besides there was something almost peaceful about the steady rhythm of the clip-clop steps the hooves played across the paved sections of road. The jingle of tack, the smell of horse and leather, the feel of control over the large beast all combined into a zen like state for Hamish. The crisp winter air bit deeply in his lungs but this he ignored in favor of the sun beaming uselessly down from its drifting perch. For a time, he was unburdened by the feeling of an eternity of souls weighing him down and the smile that split his lips was both genuine and honest.<br/><br/>Hamish was unaware of this but had found himself longing for these moments of peace more and more. The light feeling that came along with it was as strong as the white powder he had fed others when he needed information. But the practical side of him always won the struggle, no matter how hard he fought to hang on to that lightness. There were people to find and kill, that was simply life.<br/><br/>Hamish returned to the stables on the edge of town. The people here were hard from a life of poverty that had somehow become harder under the Nazi rule. No matter your station in the world, someone could always take something from you. The stable master was an older man whose kindness extended mostly to his animals. For some reason this was important to Hamish, though he would not be able to tell anyone why. As he was settling the bill he tossed out the name of Isolde to the stable master. The man nodded and told him she was something of an angel who worked at the local clinic. She had seen to his boy when he had been kicked by a horse and somehow had made him better.<br/><br/>Hamish saw an unusual amount of admiration in the man’s eyes and asked if there were others who knew of her. The stable master rattled off a couple of names before returning to his usual gristly self. Hamish thanked the man and found the other names he had mentioned. Everywhere Hamish asked it was admiration and stories of her caring and giving attitude. These people spoke of her with a fondness Hamish did not know existed. Each story was told with pride, the poorest family looking him in the eyes as they told it.<br/><br/>They had very little to nothing not allowed by the Nazi party so these people had turned to the intangibles of hope, finding pride in their own depths of appreciation and charity from this woman. No razor or whip could take those moments from them no matter what the future promised.<br/><br/>Hamish doubted anyone thought of him this way.<br/><br/>So it was that later that night he found himself standing outside the clinic when Isolde left. It was late and snowing again but Hamish may as well have been a permanent section of the wall he leaned against. He let her get a few paces ahead before following her. He was being driven by a thirst he had never known. What made this woman procure so many smiles from people who had nothing? Why was she at that castle and how had she escaped? How was she connected to Darcy?<br/><br/>Hamish watched as a small child ran up and slipped something into her pocket. It was well done but the child ran on and Isolde continued into a flat. Hamish resumed his vigil and again drifted into the stillness that settled around the town in a way only suppression and unspoken atrocities can attain.<br/>It only a few hours later when Isolde reappeared in a rush; Hamish again fell in a few yards behind her and began trailing her. The streets were empty even of all but secrets and mean spirits seeking a victim and Hamish understood the risk she was taking just being on the streets at this hour. She stopped just ahead so Hamish pulled himself into night powered shadows nearby and peeked out.<br/><br/>She was gone. Hamish felt confusion muddle his steps for the first time in his memories. He had lost a trail before but never one so close and never so suddenly! Had she known he was there? He felt that was impossible but it was the only answer his practical mind could handle. He considered moving ahead anyway when a hand landed on his shoulder. Hamish turned to stare into the face of one of the Nazi patrols that roamed the streets like wild hyena’s.<br/><br/>“<span style="font-style: italic">You are out late, friend,</span>” the guard said with a cruel smile etched on his face. He should still be a young man but his own vileness had aged him. Two others stood behind giggling at the scene. “<span style="font-style: italic">Do you have papers</span>?”<br/><br/>Hamish felt anger building in him. A strange rushing of air and blood coursed through his system like an avalanche; ripping away the vestiges of perfect control he had spent his life building. He had been discovered by a regular guard!<br/><br/>“<span style="font-style: italic">If you walk away now, you and your friends will live,</span>” Hamish said quietly. “<span style="font-style: italic">If you do not, all of you will spend your afterlife in the sewers</span>.<span style="font-style: italic">But not before I make you scream for your mother's to save you.</span>”<br/><br/>The cruel smile was replaced with obstinate rage. Hamish wanted badly to lash out and vent his own anger on these three boys, and nothing quick. He wanted to know their pain before he put them down. Instead he reached into his inner coat pocket and withdrew his badge of office marking him a<span style="font-style: italic">Reichsinspekteur</span>which allowed him unlimited access in this region. The rage and snickering vanished immediately, replaced by the truest form of fear.<br/><br/>“<span style="font-style: italic">Of course Inspector,</span>” the guard blubbered, “<span style="font-style: italic">Our apologies for interrupting your night.</span>”<br/><br/>Hamish let them go and forced the anger back into its hole. ‘Where the hell had that come from,’ Hamish asked himself. Was there no end to the mysteries this woman would produce for him?<br/><br/>Hamish had seen enough for the night. He headed back to the hotel and hoped that the morning would bring better light to the situation.