River of Thieves

by Clayton Snyder

  "We are the Knights of Axe!" he proclaimed.

  I waved a hand, trying to dispel the stink.

  "That is a powerful scent, sir knight," I said.

  "Yea, the alchemist what sold me it assured me it would attract only the finest of maidens."

  I coughed. "It's certainly attracting something."

  A fly landed on his trousers and buzzed frantically before falling to the ground. We watched as it spun a circle on its back, wings fluttering like an erratic heartbeat. Finally, it died. He looked up, eyes meeting mine.

  "Tell no one of this," he said.

  "I wouldn't know where to start," I replied.

  I heard the clank of coins and saw the bag disappear into the trees, one of his men toting it. I looked from it to him, and he narrowed his eyes.

  "Not a word," he said.

  "My lips are sealed," I replied.

  He looked me over once, then turned and disappeared into the woods, leaving me alone with Cord and the sound of running feet. I put on my best crying face and sobbed as the constable burst into the clearing.

  "Ma'am. Ma'am!"

  I looked up. "Yes?"

  "What happened here?"

  I widened my eyes and tried to look shocked. "Thieves!"

  "Where?"

  "There!" I pointed to the tree line.

  He glanced around, noting Cord's body, the fletching of the arrow still pointing to the sky. He looked back to me and narrowed his eyes.

  "And how did you survive?"

  I batted my eyelashes and gave him a smile. "They thought me too fine to despoil, sire. But they have my broach. If only someone could retrieve it. It belonged to my gran, and I'd be sore glad to have it back."

  He looked from my chest to my eyes and back again. I coughed, and he lifted his eyes once more, face bright red. He cleared his throat.

  "Ah, yes," he raised his voice, "Men, search the trees! We must have these scoundrels! Not to worry, ma'am. We'll have your jewels back to your bosom in no time."

  My eyes strained to not roll into the back of my head and cause permanent blindness. "My hero."

  He grinned and left to supervise the search, shouting orders as he went, chest puffed like a rooster. They quickly forgot me in the bustle. I slunk away.

  ***

  While the guards were busy beating the bush, I circled back. I'd stolen the uniform of a worker of Gren. Thick overalls, black mask, and heavy boots and gloves. I hauled Cord's body into the cart and wheeled him out, nodding to the same captain who'd stopped me earlier. He averted his gaze. Workers of Gren were considered bad luck in the smaller backwaters--stupid country superstition. It was like being afraid of the trash men. No one wanted a flood of maggots in the streets. These guys should be getting parades. The guard turned back to his business, and I hauled my partner's dead ass back to the cottage.

  Cord woke sans one arrow in his skull, as is the preferred way to wake for most of the known world. He coughed, choked, and spat up another little critter, this one near in size to the last. Again, I hammered it with a mallet, and let Cord recover. He sipped his water and looked out the window over the long field of summer wheat and wildflowers.

  "Penny for your thoughts," I said.

  "That's a weird saying. Are you implying my thoughts are worth only a single cent?"

  "Just an expression."

  "Yeah, well, next time offer a crown," he grumbled.

  "What were you thinking?" I asked, trying to keep the exasperation from my voice.

  "I was thinking it's time we go for bigger fish. This last job—well, I've had more successful shits. Fuck those guys."

  "Sadly, I don't think anyone ever will," I replied.

  "What?"

  "Nothing. You were saying?"

  He gave me a look with one eye squinted, then shook his head and went on. "I think it's time for a change of pace, maybe time to set us up for retirement. There's an old Gentian saying: 'Why borrow from men when you can steal from gods?'."

  "What is wrong with the Gentians?"

  "A lot. You're ignoring my point, though."

  "Are you suggesting we rob the gods?"

  "Are you suggesting we shouldn't? What've they given us? Aside from an insatiable blood lust, a horrible curse, and threadbare socks?" he held up one foot, toes poking from the stocking.

  "Hey, it's not insatiable. I'm just saying, if you want to spend the rest of your life with a dick for a face, go ahead."

  Cord waved it away. "One bridge at a time. The point is, all this small shit is exactly that. Rabbit turds."

  "And?"

  He fell quiet for a moment, gray eyes searching for something out beyond the flowers. I followed his line of sight, to the ribbon of the river cutting across the Veldt and beyond, to Midian, the capitol.

  "Okay," I sighed, "crown for your thoughts."

  "Better," he muttered.

  "Well?"

  "You ever wonder if there's more?"

  "Like less horseshit and blood? A little less of the flux and a little more flesh?"

  "Yeah, something like that. I just... look, there's no reason for this to go on as long as it has. I'm getting older, and these deaths, they're taking something out of me. And you. You've got a long life ahead, if we pull this off, you can live it in a place that isn't covered in shit."

  "Like a king?"

  Cord grimaced for a split second. "Yeah, something like that."

  "Okay, so what's the plan?"

  "First, we're gonna need a crew."

  Inwardly, I groaned. He gave me one of his lunatic grins, and my stomach dropped. I knew that look. Outwardly, I groaned.

  Cat Shit and Violence

  We'd moved up the river again to a hamlet called Cait Ap Sith. The locals referred to it by a more colorful name, Cat Shite City. Mostly because of all the cats. They swarmed the local fishery, lounged in alleys, and occasionally pounced from eaves and trees like tiny stupid panthers. I watched a fat tabby chase a small mouse across an alley, giving up halfway through and sitting on its haunches like a winded mule. Further into town, the growls and painful cries of cats in heat echoed through the small alleys. I turned to Cord.

  "We're not robbing this place, are we? I'm already going to be picking cat hair out of my food for weeks."

  Cord shook his head. "No one here to rob. No, we're here for a friend."

  "Friend? You?"

  Cord shrugged. "We had mutual interests once upon a time."

  "What's their name?"

  "Rek."

  "Uh huh. And what happened?"

  "We had a falling out. I thought we should rob a Harrower, he didn't."

  "So what makes you think he's going to want to see you now?"

  "We're going to blackmail him."

  "You're going to blackmail him, you mean."

  "Yes. We."

  I gave up. "And he'll be so grateful he'll follow us like a puppy?"

  "Hopefully. If not, I'll tell him we paid a Harrower to curse him."

  "You think he'd fall for that?"

  Cord shrugged and led us down a path into the greater part of town, a dirt rut that wound its way between fields of nodding sunflowers. Green clumps of catnip sprouted between the stalks, and the flowers swayed with the passage of perpetually stoned cats. To our left, the river ran south and east. Through the drowsy midlands, it pushed its way toward the sea and Midian, the city. Here, most everyone bore pale or slightly tan skin tones, some taking on the blue and green hue of the great algae farms to the north. There, between the tall mountains and the wide snowfields, they grew the snotty stuff in glacial lakebeds. They fed it to their cattle, their children, and themselves. I'd tasted it once, leaving me wishing I'd just licked a snot toad.

  The fields gave way to more muddy ruts and ramshackle homes pressed tight like syphilitic lovers, leaning on one another for support. Farther in, the roads made a circle. Rough stalls served as Cait's market. Fishmongers and farmers hawked their wares, stalls of fresh and dried fish, roasted sunfl
ower seeds, and thick clumps of algae sending up a peculiar stink. We took a quick left, back toward the water, and entered a long series of alleys marked by small homes with tin roofs.

  "Tell me about this guy," I said.

  Cord shrugged. "Rek? Whaddya wanna know?"

  "What's he like?"

  "Mostly big."

  "Big?"

  Cord held his hands apart, and then adjusted so he took in the width of one of the houses.

  "You pissed him off? And you're going to blackmail him? I thought you were supposed to be some sort of criminal genius."

  He shrugged again. "Harrower contract law is interesting. You'll see. Besides, he's a softy."

  He led us to a house only marginally larger than the others, which in Cait is like saying four sardines fit in this can rather than three. Cats infested the small garden out front, lazed on the steps, and peered from a rough window. They looked like a furry tribunal, and I ducked my head, tried to look innocent. Cord snorted, then raised his hand and knocked, sending a few scattering and at least one hissing. I tried not to think about tiny claws ripping me a new sphincter.

  No answer came, and he knocked again.

  "Go away." The voice inside sounded like someone taught a boulder speech.

  "Rek," Cord said.

  "Nuh-uh."

  "Rek, open the door."

  "No Rek here. Just cats." A pause. And then, "Meow."

  Cord shifted as silence from the other side of the door met us. "Quick Rek! Mr. Meowington's in danger!"

  "MR. MEOWINGTON?!"

  The shout made my ears ache. I stepped off the stoop in time to see a fleshy mountain the color of sandstone nearly tear the door off its hinges. He bounded into the yard, peering into every crevasse and corner, shouting the cat's name. I fell back further while Cord stifled a laugh. Rek turned to him, brow beetling, and the smile died on Cord's lips.

  "Where is the kitty, Cord?"

  Cord raised his hands. "Look, I had to get you out of the house, Mr. Meowington is fi-"

  One of Rek's turkey-sized hands grabbed Cord by the throat and squeezed. Cord's eyes bulged and a croak escaped his throat. His neck gave a thick snap and he went limp, limbs flopping to his side. Rek dropped the body into the mud, Cord hitting the ground with an unceremonious thump. The big man turned to me.

  "You like tea?" he asked.

  I eyed Cord's body. "Yeah. What about him?"

  Rek waved a hand. "Leave him. The cats give him new cologne, he learns a lesson. When he gets up, he can have tea, too," he shook a finger at the body. "If he behaves."

  I followed Rek into the house. It teemed with cats and overstuffed floral print furniture. Small wood tables dotted the place, heaped with boxes of tea and cookies and cat treats. He wedged himself into a chair and gestured for me to sit. He loomed over the room from his chair, bent slightly so to reach the tray on the table beside him.

  "Tea?" he asked.

  "Yes, please."

  He fiddled with a small pot, filling first one delicate cup, then the other. He handed me one. "Sugar?"

  "Yes, please."

  "FUCK," Cord interrupted as he stomped through the door.

  An angry purple bruise still lingered on his throat, and the sclera of one eye nearly glowed bright red with burst blood vessels. I looked up from my tea. Rek dropped two lumps of sugar in and gave a grunt. He didn't glance over. Cord’s recovery time surprised me.

  "I thought you were dead," I said.

  Cord shook his head, winced, and rubbed his neck. "Bastard just paralyzed me."

  "Take off your boots," Rek said.

  Cord sputtered. "The whole place is covered in cat hair. A little mud isn't going to-"

  "Take. Off. Your. Boots." Rek glared at Cord and dropped the last bit of sugar into the tea.

  I stirred my drink as quietly as possible while Cord tugged his boots off, tossing them by the door. He muttered under his breath.

  "Why are you here?" Rek asked him.

  I took a sip of tea.

  "I need your help, Rek," Cord said and sank heavily into an overstuffed chair decorated with bright pink floral print and cat hair.

  "Why should I care what you need?" Rek asked. He turned to me with an apologetic smile and patted my hand. "No offense, dear."

  "None taken. He's a bit of a shit."

  Cord shot me a withering glare. I returned a smile.

  "Because I'm gonna make us rich."

  "Nuh-uh. Last time you told me that, you ended up cursed. The time before that, I ended up in debt."

  "I bought your debt."

  A frown creased Rek's forehead. "Bought my debt?"

  Cord nodded. "You owe me now."

  Rek grumbled low in his chest, the sound like a bass drum. "What if I just take it out of your hide?"

  Cord spread his hands. "The debt defaults back to the man you owed before. Remember the Harrower? Who would you rather owe, Rek?"

  Rek cursed and tossed his teacup at the wall. It shattered, peppering the room with tea and ceramic. Cats scattered at the explosion, scurrying under chairs and into the kitchen. Cord smirked, and I raised an eyebrow at him. He ignored me.

  "Is that a yes?" he asked.

  Rek heaved a sigh. "Yes. But when the debt is paid, I’ll kill you for real."

  Cord looked a little queasy for a moment, and then cleared his throat. "Deal."

  We filed out of the house, leaving the big man behind to gather his belongings. He'd meet us at the boat after. On the way there, I stopped Cord.

  "You going to blackmail everyone we recruit?"

  He shook his head. "Rek just needs motivation. He's really a decent guy."

  "Aside from the murdering you in the street thing."

  Cord shrugged and continued down the path. "Technically, he didn't kill me. And I deserved it. Probably more. I really screwed him with that Harrower job."

  "Yeah? Did you really buy his debt?"

  "I did."

  "From the same man who cursed you?"

  "Yeah."

  "That can't have been comfortable."

  "He's really proud of that curse."

  "I would be, too." I considered. "It can't be good being in debt to one of those things."

  "Nope."

  "So really, you did him a favor."

  "That's how I see it."

  "Will Rek?"

  "The world is full of unknowable questions, Nenn."

  "So?"

  He shrugged. "Probably not."

  ***

  We made it quayside, finding Rek in the bow of the boat, the back poking out of the water. He wore a scowl and held an oar. We waded over and climbed in, settling the craft, and Rek pushed us off, moving the boat forward with powerful strokes. We rode in silence as Cait dwindled, and then disappeared past the first bend.

  "Kitties better be okay," Rek said.

  Cord just swallowed and watched the trees pass.

  That One Time a Horse Almost Fucked Me

  "The Outsiders," Cord said, apropos of nothing.

  I shook my head, watching the riverbank roll by. We'd made good time with Rek pushing the oars, and Cait was already far behind. The river was busy with merchant ships and day trippers, and we kept closer to the bank to avoid the worst of the traffic, our little boat ill-equipped for an encounter.

  "Why not?"

  "Sounds like we should be wearing leather, struggling with our identities," I said.

  "Fine."

  "Where we going, anyway?"

  "To see Lux."

  Rek groaned from the front of the boat. "Not Lux."

  "What's wrong with Lux?" I asked.

  "Nothing," Cord said.

  "Creepy," Rek said.

  "Okay, yeah, she's a little creepy," Cord acknowledged. "We still need her."

  I looked around the small craft. "We're also going to need a bigger boat."

  Cord smiled. "Trust me. I have a plan."

  Rek groaned again, and I joined him.

  ***


  Looking back, Rek was the easiest of all the things we'd set to ourselves.

  I asked myself then what Rek really wanted. He seemed content with his cats, with his tiny cottage. I wondered if any choice other than blackmail existed, and realized that even in his cozy home, a dual feeling of restlessness and inertia hung about the man. It clung to him like cheap perfume, and watching him in that cottage, among his knickknacks and doilies, he paced like a caged cat. Sitting in that boat, watching the man work the paddle as the riverbank flew by, the set of his shoulders spoke of a joy he hadn't experienced in years.

  "How'd you two meet?" I asked as Rek pushed the boat along, powerful arms moving like clockwork.

  Cord groaned.

  Rek rumbled a laugh. "The idiot tried to rob me. I was working this club in Midian, one of those places that pop up overnight and is gone the next day."

  "That's a thing?" I asked.

  "For a while. It's a cheap way to make a killing. Buy cheap booze, hire some musicians, charge an arm and a leg for exclusive access--"

  "Some people have more money than brains," Cord muttered.

  Rek continued. "Which leads to the next bit. Here comes Cord, walking in like he owns the place, ordering bottles of Gentian wine and a girl on each arm."

  "How did you know he didn't?"

  "The owner was the one who hired me. So, I pick this short little shit up, carry him out like luggage, and toss him on the street. Three hours later, while I'm chaining the doors, he comes back with four guys."

  "Oh no."

  Rek nodded. "Cord's the only one who got back up. When he did, took him a minute to talk, but he offered me a job."

  "And you took it?"

  Rek shrugged, the motion rocking the boat.

  "The club was closing down at the end of the week, and I've always been good at making people not be people anymore. Besides, he might be an idiot—"

  "Hey," Cord protested.

  "—but it paid the bills."

  "And we've been friends ever since," Cord said.

  "And we've been acquaintances ever since," Rek corrected.