Gonard the Discreet

A slim figure dressed in white was dancing across the plaza. Many times she seemed to be nearly losing her balance on the paving, although she was not even wearing high heels. She was clutching an amphora that probably held less wine than her little head at the moment.
"Tee-hEe, I'm sO drunk!" said the girl with a smile.
"Hiiii Gonard, you old gRumP!" she screamed with delight as she spotted the night watchman. He stood still with a severe look on his face, waiting her to run closer.
"Good evening, Ms Zanya", he greeted with a dark and steady voice.
The girl tried to hug him but since she only used her left arm in the attempt, the watchman had no difficulties in breaking free.
"Try to behave yourself, Miss."
"Ohhh, you're So boRing!" said Zanya with a frown. "Come On, do you rEally have to stand in there alL night? There's a Party at Damy's place."
"Madam, with all due respect, if I leave my post, I'll be beheaded", said Gonard, never losing his politeness.
"Ow, you're sUch a bOre", Zanya muttered disappointedly.
"I suggest that you go to bead now, Miss."
"But the night is young, and the stArs..! They're Dancing around with me, Look!"
"Mind the step, Miss", Gonard warned just in time.
"Damy is Such a bore, really", Zanya revealed. "Not funny at all."
She tried to sip from her amphora, resulting in a red stain on the white cloth.
"Oops, Mrs Ephra is going to be So mAd! Heehee."
"And so is you Father if you can't show up for breakfast next morning because you're too busy vomiting and grousing about a headache", said Gonard with a grave voice. No he was finally starting to lose his temper and despite her condition, Zanya somehow managed to notice that.
"Ewww, pUke! Oh, I think I must go, heh, anyway. Byeeee Gonard!"
"Good night, Ms Zanya." "Oh, I wonder if Cookie has any gooseberry jelly left..." the girl muttered as she tottered through the gate.
"To Bed!" the watchman pointed out.
"Alright, allll-right, I'm going."
She walked up the palace stairs and vanished inside.
Gonard shook his head, then continued with his round. It was a silent night. All the trouble was probably and Damy's and at this time of the night most of the guests must have been under the table. He whistled as he went down the road.
But someone lurched from the shadows and before the old watchman had time to draw his sword, something hit him in the chest. The back of his head knocked against the paving.
"Oh, the stars really are beautiful tonight", Gonard mumbled with awe, and a smile spread on the face which for decades had seemed as if sculpted of stone. And then... he found peace.


I started writing this a year ago, inspired by Neil Gaiman's Neverwhere. Then I forgot about my story and now, February 2004, I happened to come across it and finish it. No matter it's short, I couldn't get any longer without being ruined. It's funny, usually I don't seem to find an end at all...

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