Horace sat on a bench within the housing district near the Palace. Gaurds patrolled the streets, occasionally eyeing every man and woman they passed. His clothing had been changed to match that of the nobility who could afford housing on the street, courtesy of Bardas. Looking at the manor before him, he kept track of when the guards rotated.
Looking up at the sun, he made a rough estimate of the time and refocused on the front gate. A few minutes passed, and the guards changed. There were only thirty seconds when the gate was left unguarded.
'Every five hours, they change during the day. On the night shift, they don't rotate.' Getting up, Horace strolled down the street with the information in mind, ready to plan his next attack on the council.
