It was the early hours of the morning, the sun little more than a blush upon the horizon when she snuck out of the window of what passed for a tavern in in this town. Silver was no stranger to doing such a thing. Indeed, it had been a habit of hers for two decades to be gone before morning whether it be through the door or window - any aperture would do - but tonight's foray into a mans bedroom had been of a different nature to her previous habits.
This time, she had watched, and waited, whiling away the hours with games and song until the one of interest had gone to bed alone. A coin or two in the right hands had ensured that she wouldn't be disturbed when, only a short time before, she had crept into the room of the sleeping man and taken that which she needed. Now, she paused, looking back into the darkened space to be certain that he still slept soundly, covered in his blanket upon the thin cot, before closing the window quietly and making her way down the hill, a bag hung over her shoulder.
A grin parted her lips, white teeth flashing in the dim light, as she made her way over to the stables where Steel waited. He snorted when he saw her, stamping eagerly upon the ground in anticipation of a run. Placing her hand to his thick neck, she murmured an apology to her beloved steed, promising him that they would go later. First, there was something that she needed from his bags, something that she needed to do. Quietened and calmer, though eyeing her reproachfully, Steel settled back down to wait.
Taking two lengths of rope and a sturdy hook, she made her way back out into the pre-dawn air. At this time of year, the north was beginning to turn cold. Not cold enough yet to be uncomfortable, though it wouldn't be long before she'd need to wear thicker clothing. For now, however, she required all the agility at her disposal and that meant suffering the chill.
Trotting down the street, she raised a hand to wave to the poor saps guarding the bridge at this time of day. They gave her odd looks for the items she carried, but a smile and a wink was enough to allay their curiosity for now. She continued on, down beside the bridge and onto the solid stone platform that gave the town end of the structure its support. Shrugging her items to the ground, Silver took up the end of the longest coil of rope, she wasted no time in tying it securely about her waist before coiling its length once more and picking up that which she had so recently discarded. It took mere moments to make the last of her preparations. Pausing to look up at the bridge itself, she took a breath, letting it slowly out between pursed lips, resettled the bag upon her shoulder for comfort, slipped the longer coil of rope over her head and under her arm, then stepped forward. Placing her hand upon the wooden scaffold, she give it an experimental shake. It held the weight of the bridge perfectly well, of course, along with the people and wagons that needed to cross. However, the structure as a whole was infinitely stronger than its component parts. Any one of these beams could break when placed under individual stress, which was something she would rather avoid. The fall here would be deadly, water below or no.
But, she reminded herself cheerfully as she began to pull herself upwards, that was the difference between caution and self-defeat. One could enter a situation wary of the surroundings and circumstances and still be victorious. However, believing in your own failure before a venture had even begun was the single most certain way to lose.
Up she went, thigh and shoulder muscles pulling taught with the effort. Up more than five times her own height, stray splinters digging into calloused hands. She didn't mind that. Hadn't she made far more uncomfortable climbs in the past? True, they had usually been for survivals sake as opposed to simple mischief, but one was just as good as the other!
Placing her foot upon the lowest horizontal timber, she paused. This would be the tricky part! Were she not careful, those cross beams would prove to be as much hindrance as help. Another breath, two, and she swung herself around onto the joist, hands grasping tightly at the wood supports whilst her feet slid deliberately along and, when necessary, toed around the connecting planks. She refused to hurry; haste would only result in mistakes and mistakes could be deadly. She refused to look down; the drop below was not her immediate concern, not falling was. She refused to look back; her goal lay before her, not behind.
When she reached a point just before midway, she stopped once more. Slipping her arm around a vertical shaft, she slid herself down to a precarious seat. Slipping the long rope from about her, she secured the hook to the wood, took one end of the shorter coil of rope from within her satchel and tied it as tightly as she could to the beam beneath her. Only then did she rise and continue her conscientious shimmying. Thankfully, her forethought had resulted in her only needing to pause once when a wad of cloth connected to the thick thread caught within the bag. It was a rather uncomfortable moment, awkwardly holding on to the cross with one arm and pulling at the contents with the other, but she managed. Upon reaching the end of her makeshift bunting, she paused to once again seat herself and tie it into place.
The way back was more quickly achieved, as was the climb down. Only when her feet touched stone again did she turn to find the wide-eyed guards staring at her in disbelief. She shrugged, blew them a kiss and stepped back to admire her handiwork.
"You're ruddy insane, missus!" one of them exclaimed.
"Maybe," she agreed with a wide grin, hands pressed to her lower spine as she leaned back to stretch away the aches. "But you have to admire my flair!"
There, strung across the bottom joist of the scaffold supporting the trestle bridge that gave the town its name, flapping merrily in the wind, hung six pairs of perfectly clean, perfectly pressed and perfectly expensive trousers.
Toddir's trousers.
