The Best Laid Plans

Chapter One: Concocting the Scheme.

In a small, grimy hovel on the outskirts of Witzend, a man sat. He was small, greasy, and smelled like twenty miles of open sewer. His clothes, amazingly, were even dirtier, and his eyes darted from side to side, never still.

His visitor was the exact opposite of him in appearance and manner, and he looked around the dwelling with barely concealed disgust, and then spoke in a calmly reasonable tone. "Now, Jack, you know what a fix I'm in. I'm the one who owns this land, and you're at least three months behind on your rent. If you don't come up with the money soon, I'm afraid I'll have no choice but to throw you out."

Jack stared at his landlord, eyes wide. "Where am I going to get three hundred pounds? !"

The landlord smiled wickedly. "That is not my problem, Jack. Just get me my money before midnight on Friday next, or you will be homeless." He turned and swept out of the hovel, leaving Jack Club alone with his thoughts. Unfortunately, he wasn't much of a thinker, but rather a drinker, with a high preference for homemade brambleberry wine. He had once been a gardener, but after he barely escaped execution for planting white roses in the Red Garden, he decided to go someplace where he would be able to keep his head. He had moved to Witzend and kept to himself.

But now, he was in a desperate situation. His landlord, Ace Spade, was known far and wide for being ruthless on those who defaulted on their rent. He also had a reputation for charging exorbitant amounts for the filthy hovels that he passed off as dwellings.

Jack sighed to himself, taking a swig of wine. Mirana's reign was infinitely better than her sister's had been, but there were still people like Spade running around and making life miserable for others. And now he was forcing Jack to come up with 300 pounds in less than a week.

Jack decided to tackle the problem head on-he flopped on his filthy bed, bottle in his hand, and began to snore.

When he woke up, things hadn't improved, and he still had no idea how to get money. He had no family or friends to go to, and no master gardener would hire him because of his drinking. 'I guess I only have one choice left.'

He had decided that he would find and kidnap a wealthy child, and demand a ransom from the parents. After he received the ransom-he would return the child safe and unharmed.

The only thing that remained was to find the right child, and wait for the opportune moment.

Nothing could possibly go wrong.