What's Love Got To Do With It?

The walls shuddered under the continuous onslaught of cannon balls. Despite being the best walls he had ever seen, they were no match for the many cannons that amassed themselves on the hill so far off the castle it was never considered a threat. Who would have thought when this castle was built, three hundred years ago, that it would be penetrated by large metal balls? Exactly, no one. Large metal balls didn't exist back then, Pedro thought to himself as he clung tightly to his shield and sword, ready to repel the invaders. As a mercenary he didn't really get to pick his battles and this was one of the many he definitely would not have chosen. Another few at the top of his list are going against an overwhelming force, and being part of a scouting party. He cannot recommend those either. The receiving end of a siege? He was only in two of those and this was his second. The first one ended after eighteen months and things were getting dire. People started eating one another and the mercenaries were next on the chopping block at the time, but luckily the siege was lifted and everyone went on as if nothing happened.

WUMP! Another cannon ball is being shot. BLOMP!! It hits another part of a wall nearby and dust falls from the walls near him. An Italian mercenary near him starts to cry, putting his hands together and praying. Pedro scoffed and shook his head, looking ata moustachioed mercenary who scoffed as well. He looked to be a Anglo or German, it was not quite clear. He had the moustache of one, for certain. As if god, or any god, looked upon a mercenary and said 'this is a guy I will save, he is totally sin-free' Pedro thought to himself. He had forsaken the gods, whichever there may be, long ago.

"Breach! Breach!" The shouts came. The moustachioed man nodded to Pedro and he nodded back as they hurried out and left the Italian man behind. Other mercenaries swung to their aid and they headed to the breach in the wall. Swords could be heard clinging against shields and armor already. The path was stuck to get out, clogged by the foot traffic of the various men who tried to die in battle instead of on a privy. He envied the Norse men, they would reach a place called Valhalla if they died in battle. Pedro believed in nothing, he just wanted to get out of here. He would get into the fray of battle and try to escape and disguise himself as a peasant and head back to Spain somehow. Anything beats fighting in North Italy for a bunch of pompous pricks who can't make up their mind. Screams are heard and shouting in between other shouting. It was not clear what was going on until he heard another "WUMP!" - a cannon ball was inbound. He braced himself and it hit near them. The sound was so loud it must not have been more than ten men away. He could hear people ahead shout "Back! This way is blocked!" Pedro turned around and shoved a mercenary colleague around, urging him to turn back. They did not speak the same language, he noticed, as the man stared at him in confusion.

Pedro made the sign of an "X" with his fingers and the man nodded. He pointed backward and the man nodded and the game of pigeons continued until the other side and slowly things started moving. They poured out of the interior and out into the courtyard. Part of the wall they were headed too was collapsed, but not yet enough to allow the horde of men outside the walls to pour in. Pedro had an overwhelming desire to take a shit. The nervousness shits always got him in moments like these. He hurried away to a privy spot he knew well, the commanders were too busy making sure people were all in the right spots.

Pedro turned to one way, then another, then through a small alley, before he reached the privy spot. There out of the corner of his eye he saw someone inching along the wall, he stopped himself and hid slightly to keep an eye on the person. They approached the wall and began to feel it up. Pedro had a suspicion this person was up to no good. Soon the man, lanky and a bit tall, but all hunched over, pulled at a stone that was surprisingly easy to move. An infiltrator! He knew of a secret opening!

Pedro jumped out from his hiding and threatened the man "Halt! What are you doing, fool?" And the man stopped in his tracks, pulled out two daggers and swayed back and forth. "A countryman! Here!" He spoke in his tongue, Spanish. Pedro grabbed his sword tightly and readied his shield. "Aye, I am a Toledoan, and you?"

The hunched rogue stood up slightly taller "Why... so am I!" Pedro scoffed "Liar! Prove it!"

The rogue bent over again, in an attacking stance and began to slowly move around Pedro, looking for an opening. "Santa Barbara."

"That proves you know a district of Toledo!"

"At the plaza del Sagrario there are twelve trees."

Pedro's eyes widened a bit, he got into a defensive stance and cut off the path the rogue wanted to go.

"Yes, good guess. But do you know the colour of each bench?"

The rogue laughed "I bet you do not even know! I know that one of them is broken already since I was a child."

Pedro laughed as well "The man who broke it was so fat-"

"-he killed his own horse." They said in unison. They both straightened and relaxed slightly.

"You work here for the Doge?"

Pedro nodded "Yeah, good money. Defending this place from the Milanese."

The rogue nodded "Yes, those Milanese gave me money to open this. I came in here in a smuggled cart."

"Wow, okay. You must be good. This is a secret passage?"

The rogue nodded and gestured to the rocks "Hidden passage for smuggling. After a few weeks I managed to get their trust to smuggle in some food."

Pedro nodded respectfully "Nicely done. Good pay?"

The rogue shrugged "It is double what the Doge offered to kill the commander of the army."

"You took both offers, didn't you?"

The rogue smiled "Ah, of course! I would not be a cuthroat proper if I did not pull some strings? He did not say when the commander should die."

They both laughed. "That's good," Pedro continued "but I won't get paid if I let the Milanese win." He returned to a fighting stance. The rogue saw a chance.

"Well, you can escape any fighting if you go out here. The Milanese will break through, you know?"

Pedro sighed "Aye... I can see it. They have cannons and outnumber us. I wanted to head back home anyway."

The rogue gestured to the rocks and put his daggers away. Pedro shrugged and sheathed his sword.

They moved the rocks to the secret entrance and a small hole appeared. Pedro urged the rogue to go first, and he did. "No funny business," the rogue replied as he went in ducking, and Pedro answered "No no, not from me. You are a brother from Toledo." The rogue laughed "For now, we are brothers."

They ducked through the small tunnel until they came to a makeshift ladder with a cover of wood at the top. They lifted it and darkness continued to fill the hole. The rogue jumped up and out, Pedro followed suit. They were on a hill surrounded by shrubbery. They crouched and looked down to the city, small fires began to pop up in areas where the cannons were shooting. They could hear the "WOMP!" of a cannon as they saw the iron ball hit the wall.

"Well, here we part ways. Good luck, brother." The rogue nodded and disappeared into the brush. Pedro muttered a quick thank you as he dropped his sword and shield right there, but kept his dagger of course. He walked out of the brush and headed to the south where there were no besiegers, as far as he knew. He looked back at the city and sighed. Better a living coward, than a dead hero, and headed off into the night.