(C) Olugbode olufemi samson
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All rights reserved. No part of this Story may be reproduced or transmitted in any form by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the author
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Dedication
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Dedicated to all Loversof Literature and all Students of Literature and also to my late father for his ever surpportive role in my life and to my dearest mum for her love and understanding. Thank You.
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This happen to be my first book but not yet published. You will love it.

August 1817
Berlin, Germany.

The rain of the season had started to fall less than an hour earlier as i loped down the wooden lane. A rope tied to the stirrup of my saddle pulled another horse, and on it rode my comrade, wounded and tired from the war. We have been riding for several hours and am exhausted. But i knew i am close to my destination and i am anxious to get there before dark. Until i get there am in danger of been attacked by the enymy and become a captive. So far i have only passed a few wagons, and the peasants had said nothing. Everyone knew the revolution was underway, and the sight of a wary and wounded soldier was not so remarkable as it would have been a year ago.

Me and my comrade are couriers who carried messages back and forth from the revolutionary troops to the command post. We had stopped at an inn the night before, where we are to meet another another courier, who is to give me additional messages for the revolutionary leaders. It was late when we arrived and and we were unable to find the courier, whom we knew only by the code name Valafar.
The next morning the man joined us at breakfast. As we ate, Valafar mentioned that the night before he'd begun talking with a man whom he'd montarily mistaken for me. They shared a few shots of whiskey together, and soon the stranger was telling Valafar he was an army lieutenant and he is on his way to see the zotar. I knew the only way a lieutenant would get anywhere near the zotar was if he is a courier like me. He is an enymy. " Where is he now?" " Still here, sleeping, I think. He drank too much last night", Valafar said with a laugh.
"Let's pay him a visit

If you both have nothing good to say, say nothing.