Chapter 1: Knight

"Will that be all miss?"

The woman at the windowsill glanced at the man in the doorway. "Yes that will be fine, thank you Sir."

With a slight bow Welrod's landlord exited the apartment. Welrod sighed, and turned her gaze back to the window brushing a bit of her blonde hair away from her emerald colored eyes. The streets of London stretched as far as the eye could see, smoke billowing from chimneys of the various abodes that made up this residential zone. The weather was as usual, overcast with a hint of moisture in the air, typical of London this time of year.

Another dreary day in jolly old London Welrod thought. Welrod set to work finishing her hair, tying two short ponytails in quick succession. Hopefully where I'm going there is less moisture; keeping my hair in good condition is abysmal.

The girl rose from her window seat and glanced at the soon to be vacant apartment. Most of her belongings had already been moved downstairs, except her prized possessions. These included: her two Welrod Mk. II pistols nestled tightly in their holsters and a chess set which had been given to her by the landlord as a welcoming gift. While the girl appreciated the gift, Welrod couldn't help but feel a little guilty, as her skills at chess were that of a novice at best. The few games Welrod attempted with her landlord always ended in an absolute trouncing.

You would have thought Sir would tire of winning, but he always was eager to join me in a battle of wits Welrod mused.

The girl picked up the board; as solid and heavy as ever. The chess board's rim was made of a glistening mahogany, carved with various African mammals ranging from Elephants to Lions. The tiles were of painted oak as were the pieces that accompanied them. It was a relic from a past age, when the British Empire stretched from the jungles of Africa, to the tip of India. Welrod picked up a Knight, her favorite piece, both for its gorgeous design and finesse on the battlefield. She loved the way it moved about the board; requiring more thought and effort than a mere pawn or even a rook.

What a time it would have been to live in an era of gentlemanly warfare Welrod thought.

The edges of her mouth curled into a slight grin, as she carefully placed her chess board into her duffle bag, and moved to pick up her holster.

The guns she shared her name with were specially made for her use alone by her previous employer, the British intelligence agency MI6. During the last Great War she was tasked as an espionage asset, deploying behind enemy lines and quietly assembling intelligence and sabotaging enemy equipment and logistics. It was almost an art; a job that required a great deal of concentration, effort, and finesse. Perhaps this is why she liked the Knight so much. Welrod strapped her holsters around her waist, and picked up her pistols.

As lightweight and efficient as ever Welrod thought as she gave both of them a twirl or two before holstering them tightly in their satchels at her hip.

Slinging the duffle bag over her shoulder, Welrod moved towards the open door, stopped at the entrance, and gave the room she called home for the past two and a half years a final glance.

Despite its size, it served its purpose adequately.

Welrod grabbed her navy blue coat off the rack and continued her short journey down the staircase and out the front door to the waiting "deuce and a half" truck waiting to take her to the airport. She had been given an opportunity to serve as assistant to a commander in the Private Military Corporation Grifon & Krueger, an opportunity she could hardly pass up. She gently deposited her precious cargo into the truck and began to hoist herself into the rear compartment.

"Miss Welrod, one moment please!"

Welrod paused and glanced over her shoulder to see her landlord clutching a wrapped package.

"Th-this is hardly necessary Sir, you have already done more than enough," Welrod stammered as she dismounted.

She took the package from the man's old gnarled hands and opened it. Inside was a cream colored sweater embroidered with blue and red zig-zags, with a hood laced and trimmed with wool as white as Bristol snow. Attached to the hood were tassels that took the appearance of rabbit ears.

"I knew you were going to a place that was quite cold, so I had my wife fix you something to keep yourself warm," the old man said.

How did he know, I never shared with him where I was going Welrod thought.

"How… how did you know where I was being deployed," replied Welrod.

"Oh I did a little spying of my own, I may be old but that doesn't mean I can't learn a thing or two from my tenants."

Welrod lowered her head trying and failing miserably to hide her blushing cheeks.

"You do realize if this were still wartime I would have to place you under arrest for observing top secret documents," Welrod quietly mumbled.

The landlord let out a hearty laugh. "Yes, yes, but it would have been worth it just to see the look on your face."

Welrod gave a meek smile and closed the package. "I'll let you off with a warning this time Sir."

With that she turned back to the truck and hoisted herself inside. The window to the cab slid open and a woman with goggles on her forehead peered through the slit at her.

"Are you ready Miss Welrod?"

Welrod took one last glance out the back of the truck, at the landlord who had given her so much for so little in return. He was standing on the porch waving at her. She returned the gesture with as much of a smile as she could muster. He truly was worthy of being called a Sir. "Yes I am ready."

The truck started up with a roar and slowly began to drift away from the street she had called home. She adjusted herself on the bench; not the most comfortable bed but serviceable. The last thing she heard before she drifted off into a dreamless slumber was

"Next stop, Grifon and Krueger Headquarters."