Viva La Revolution
Near Paris, France.
James woke up suddenly, covered in sweat. He quickly pulled himself up and threw away the threadbare blanket over him. He had had another bad night. He dragged himself off the straw heap that he had been so grateful for the night before, but now cursed his judgement as he scratched his straw-plastered back.
He slipped one leg, closely followed by its double onto the dried mud ground. He stretched his arms out fully and flexed his muscles when the servant of the nearby house pushed through the door.
'Oh! I- Er-' She stumbled before closing the door and knocking on it quickly. He put his arms down and replied in a gravelly voice. "Enter."
She entered the room with a hand over her face to try and disguise the very noticeable blush upon her face. "The- the people of the house would now like you to leave." She mumbled behind her hand.
"So soon? I was just getting used to the luxury." He joked to her with a flirty smile.
"Do you need some help getting packed? Or someone to show you around the town?" She started. "It's quite small but there are some good bakeries where we buy bread for the revolt people, but if you just want to go quietly you can jus-" She rambled before a smooth hand covered her mouth.
"Going silently sounds good. Could you thank the people for allowing me to stay here for me?" He asked her.
She nodded quickly and left the room in a hurry.
James sighed as he turned back to his possessions. He couldn't let a common woman see the mound of currency and much more valuable gold kept in-between his clothes and flintlock pistol. He gathered them quickly into the peasant bag and slipped out of the shack.
James had already planned his rout the day before and, after checking for any people watching, jogged into the woods surrounding the area.
It wasn't long before James had hit himself for not bringing water. The path was long and his bag heavy, but he had to brave it out. With the time on his hands to thought about his reasons for being here.
He was a spy for the Great British corps. His job was to infiltrate the peasant class and help them in their effort to overthrow the monarchy. Britain thought it in their best interests and thought a divided France could open an opportunity to gain land in the Northern Coast.
His journey to France was rough, using a small rowboat from Dover to Calais, the shortest route available. He couldn't have come in another way as it would arouse suspicion and could have led to an Anglo-French war, as if there weren't enough already.
But James had a secret. He wasn't any ordinary person. He had never known his father but this was his journey to finding out.