A figure swathed in a long black cloak stepped out of the blizzard into the nearly empty, dimly lit inn. A black hat with a huge brim completely shaded his face.
There were only a few Neopets, four exactly, drinking grog and laughing. None of them paid any heed to the outsider except the landlord, a large Red Grarrl. He nodded as the figure approached him.
The stranger approached the landlord swiftly. "Rooms and dinner for two," he mumbled.
"Pays up front, eh?" said the landlord casually, slapping his desk.
The figure reached deep into the inside of his cloak and withdrew a coin pouch.
The Grarrl's eyes latched on the figure's paws. Brown. He watched as the paws took a 5 Dubloon coin and set it on the table before replacing the pouch.
"Very good," said the landlord easily, reaching for the coin.
He suddenly swung a punch at the figure's shadowy face.
Caught completely off guard, the figure took the impact full on his right cheek and reeled back. In the blink of an eye he'd regained his balance, drawn a foil from a sheath at his left, and lunged at the landlord.
Only to be grabbed from behind.
After a brief struggle, where the mysterious figure was hopelessly overpowered, the landlord managed another heavy punch to the stranger's face. The figure went limp.
One of the attackers, a female White Krawk, quickly yanked off the hat. "He's just a kid!" she whispered harshly.
The Red Grarrl examined the dazed face. The eyes were clearing up faster than he would have liked. Bright blue eyes in a handsome young Brown Wocky face.
"Don't make any dumb mistakes. Now tie 'im up and take 'im."
The eyes were clear now. Dangerously clear and direct. The youngster's blue eyes drilled icily at the landlord, then glanced to his right and left. Two Neopets to each forepaw. A White Krawk and Green Acara to his right, a Yellow Mynci and Split Lupe on his left.
He twisted his forepaws and swung around, shaking loose three of his attackers. He suddenly had a knife in each paw, but before he could do anything, the White Krawk grabbed him in some sort of lock from behind and forced him facedown on the floor.
"Stupid," grumbled the landlord.
The Green Acara quickly took his knives and searched his cloak for other weapons. Besides the foil and two knives, there were a cutlass and a pistol. Beautiful weapons, to be sure. She took them all.
The young Wocky still didn't look in the least frightened, though now he was certainly wary. His breathing was quicker and his eyes narrowed.
"Who are you?" he demanded, not bothering to disguise his very proper, distinguished voice.
His attackers had managed to tie him up despite his struggling. They laughed at his question and shoved towards a room at the back of the inn.
The landlord opened a door and shoved the Wocky in, slamming and locking the door behind him.
"How pleasant to see you again, Jacque con Triste."
The young Wocky struggled upright and growled low in his throat when he saw who he was locked up with. None other than 00Hog, that infamous Yellow Moehog, dressed as always in his black tux and red bowtie.
"Heard you ran away after failing your first real mission as a pirate, young lad. Decided to look you up."
"I'm not telling you anything about my father."
"Oh, now that's a shame," said 00Hog. "And after I went though all the trouble of setting up this little ambush."
Jacque's brilliant blue eyes narrowed. "I knew those weren't normal thugs."
"Capitan Kiote con Triste, Le Baron de Corsair, is rather famous for his swordplay. And apparently I was right to assume he'd have his heir learn as many fighting skills as possible. My objective was your capture, not a test of your skills." He smirked. "Though I needn't have bothered. That cloak was obviously hampering your movements."
The young Wocky glared silently.
"Tell me, Jacque, just what was that terribly difficult mission you found impossible to accomplish?"
"None of your business," said the Wocky coldly.
"I don't suppose it has anything to do with the now-missing presumed-dead Prince Seacrest?"
The Wocky didn't even blink. "I am not acquainted with such an individual. And, as I'm sure you are well aware, pirates do not associate with their ilk anyhow."
00Hog sat on the edge of a table in the small room. He cleared his throat and stared at the ceiling. "Rooms and dinner for two," he quoted, then grinned. "How strange, Jacque. You're all alone."
Jacque glared. 00Hog smiled.
"You couldn't kill him, could you?"
The Wocky finally looked away.
"And now you can't escape over the mountains, not even in the dead of winter, because your father has lookouts everywhere and, as you fear, has placed a reward on your capture and that prince's death."
"Shut up," growled the Wocky.
The Moehog fixed his sticking-up mane, then pulled a folded up piece of paper from the inside pocked of his jacket. He unfolded it and feigned surprise as he looked it over. "What do you know! One million-" he smiled as he glanced up. "Dubloons."
The Wocky's glare didn't waver, but 00Hog could tell he had hit a sore spot.
"With a bounty like that, you'll even have so-called 'good-guys' after you."
"What do you want?" asked Jacque darkly.
"I'll help you and your friend past the mountains. In return, once you get to Neopia Central, you join the Neopian Secret Service."
Jacque's whole body tensed up. "Never," he growled. "Join you lot? Spy? Never!"
"So you'd rather face your father?" asked 00Hog, holding the bounty notice in front of the Wocky's face so he could see it was authentic. "You barely got this far inland, yes? You know you'll never get over the mountains."
"Never. I saw you leave Sammy to his death. I'd rather die then join up with the likes of you."
"Oh, that measly little snitch way back when is beside the point. But I wonder about that prince you saved…" said 00Hog, casually stretching. "Your father declared his death sentence when he sent you after him. And now…?" He glanced down at the Wocky.
"It's not just you on the line."
00Hog bent down to meet Jacque's eyes on the same level.
"You work for me for five years, Jacque. Five years. In return for your freedom from your father and that prince's life. That's my absolute final offer."
Jacque glared at him in disgust.
00Hog waited. "Five years," he said softly. "Five measly years in exchange for two lives. You know you'll never escape your father on your own."
The young Wocky's gaze wavered. "What would you have me do?" he asked bitterly.
The Moehog laughed in delight. "Got you, haven't I? Basically, you'd be my errand boy and sparring partner. General assistant sort of espionage work."
"I hate you," said Jacque angrily, though suddenly sounding as young as he looked.
"You won't have to do anything related to pirates. You won't even have to meet with other spies."
"So, in short, I'd be your personal on-call slave for five years, apparently totally hush-hush. Your superiors don't know of this deal, do they?"
"Of course not. They'd take you away for questioning. You'd probably spend the rest of your life in a cell, and then what use would you be to me? And, may I remind you of your father and the bounty on your head? Most likely you'd eventually fall into the category of 'bait'."
"I really hate you."
"I know."
"I wish you'd drop dead."
"Of course you do."
The young Wocky lowered his head in shame. "Alright," he said sullenly.
"I'd like a vow, if you don't mind. On your name."
"I've already soiled that."
"Then be sure not to soil it further, yes?"
Jacque took a deep breath. "I, Jacque con Triste, only son and former heir to Capitan Kiote con Triste, Le Baron de Corsair, do solemnly swear to implicitly serve himself, 00Hog, in all matters unrelated to pirates, for a total of five years, in absolute secrecy, in exchange for safe passage across the mountains and out of my father's reach for myself and my travel companion. On my honor."
"Very good with words, aren't you. Charming lad."
"Release me," said Jacque coldly.
"Of course," answered 00Hog, drawing a knife from a sleeve and slicing the ropes. "And where, if I may ask, is your traveling companion?"
"Waiting for me."
"Where?"
"Not part of the deal."