Oath of the Thief

by Zackery Arbela

  Fenn did the same for a moment, opening and closing his hands as feeling returned to his digits. A moment later he heard the familiar call coming up the street. “Apples! Aaappples….”

  Alyana pushed her cart up the way, the wheels rattling on the cobbled. “Apples!” she repeated. “Fresh apples! For your bellies or your wives…will you buy my apples, good sirs?”

  “Be off, woman!” one of the lancorail’s called out.

  “Unless you’re selling fresher fruit than that,” one of them added with a crude laugh.

  Fenn stepped forward. “Never mind those scoundrels,” he said. “I’ll have a couple for my lunch.” He approached the cart, handing over a copper and receiving a couple of fruits in return.

  “Two streets up,” she whispered. “Thirty men, coming for the gold. We’ll come when you shout Red Shadow.”

  Fenn nodded. He slipped one the apples into a pocket and rejoined Oleyvac and the other mercenaries, taking a bite out of the other one.

  “Apples!” Alyana picked up her cart and went back the way she came. “Aaaaappples…”

  “You boys don’t know what you’re missing,” Fenn sai, taking another bite with relish. The lancorails rolled their eyes at that.

  “Right, enough of that nonsense,” said the captain. “Back to the General’s house! He’ll be waiting for us.”

  Of the roughly one hundred mercenaries that had set out with them in the morning, about twenty remained. Like Fenn and leyvac, they were tired and hungry after a day of wandering about the streets. It was late in the afternoon now, and the sky was turning red as sunset approached. Fenn finished the apple as they went up the street and turned left, headed down a slightly narrower road lined with several alleyways. Fenn took a final bite from the apple and tossed the core away, glancing up at the rooftops, spotting the heads of men trying, and failing to hide. More men lurked in the alleyways beyond, watching and waiting.

  “Do you see them?” Oleyvac asked.

  “Yes. Not trying very hard, are they?”

  Oleyvac spat off to the side. “Like flies to a dung pile..close formation!” He shouted the last at the mercenaries, who swiftly closed ranks around the hand cart, drawing swords and raising them in expectation of a charge.

  A silent, tension filled moment passed. Then a man stood on a roof above them and tossed down a clay bottle. It hit the cobb, stones on a few feet from the mercenaries, and the moment it shattered a cloud of dark, acrid smoke burst out. Sword points wavered as the mercenaries covered their eyes, coughing wildly as the foul stuff got down their mouths and nostrils, then coughing again as two more bottles dropped down to join the first, filling the street with a thick murk.

  Shots rang out, and one of the mercenaries fell, clutching his arm and yelling in pain. He was swiftly drowned out by a wild howling from all directions as men in dark clothes, their faces hidden under makeshift masks wrapped around their heads below their eyes, rushed in with clubs and cutlasses. Mercenaries were knocked aside and knocked down, their formation quickly breaking apart in the confusion.

  “Watch the cart!” Oleyvac shouted, just before he was knocked aside by a burly fellow, while two more knocked down the mercenary holding the handles. Oleyvac stumbled to his feet and hacked wildly, cutting down one of them thieves, only to be knocked again, the fallen man’s place taken by another.

  Fenn pulled the longknife and rushed in to help. Then his blood froze as someone shouted out, “That’s him! Ten thousand on his head!”

  “He’s mine!” A burly thief came barrelling out of the smoke, waving a cutlass. “Bring me that pretty smile…” the man shouted, only to fall away clutching his bleeding face. Fenn whirled about, blood staining the tip of his blade. He stepped inside the reach of another attacker and rammed his knee upwards, laughing out loud at the comical expression on the bastards face He considered following up with a stab, then whirled about and threw the man to the ground, tripping up two more rushing at him.

  “You’ll have to work for you money!” Fenn shouted. Damn you, Serrana…

  He went over to Oleyvac, who rose to his feet. “Captain…”

  “They took the money…” Oleyvac mumbled, eyes slightly dazed. Fenn noted the swelling on the back of the man’s head. “Took the General’s money…

  Fenn pondered them for a moment. Then he let the Captain fall back down, where he swiftly, and mercifully, passed out.

  “Red Shadows!” he shouted, headed down the alleyway, after the thieves and the money cart. It twisted left and right, and he heard the wheels clattering ahead.

  “Red shadows!” he shouted again, hoping Kalin was in earshot. “Red Shadows! Red...oh, never mind.”

  The cart stood in the middle of the alleyway. Three thieves stood around it, their arms up. Kalin and Alyana stood before them, the former with a blunderbuss, the latter with a pair of pistols. Other Red Shadows stood on the rooftops above, firearms cocked and at the ready.

  “Keep shouting it,” Kalen said with a laugh. “Might be there are some ears in Ruaad that ain’t heard!”

  Fenn stepped forward, swiftly relieving the thieves of their weapons. “Smart lay,” he said conversationally as he dropped pistols and daggers to the ground. “Not easy to find an alchemist who can put together smoke bombs like that in short order...and keep his mouth shut. Or will they find that fellow floating in harbor come the morning.”

  “Sad thing, taking coin from thieves,” Alyana said in a mock-sorrowful tone. “You never know if they stab you in the back afterwards.”

  Fenn took his measure of the thieves. Common skags, working on another’s say-so. “A lay like his doesn’t happen without a nod of a head that matters,” he said. “Who do you work for?”

  The thieves looked at each other. One of them spat on the ground. “Your mother,” he said with a sneer.

  Fenn smiled back, then punched him in the face.

  “Unlikely,” he said, as the man fell with a cry of pain and a curse. “My mother was not a clever woman, though admirable in other ways. Who do you work for? Or do I let my friends here test their shooting irons on your backsides?”

  The two remaining thieves looked at each other. “Longhand Luuk,” one of them said. “Him it was that set ‘er up. Other crews be in the lay as well, but it were ‘is plan.”

  Fenn turned to the cart and opened the top of the trunk inside. He picked up one of the money bangs, hefting it so the coins jangled inside, then pushed it against the thief’s chest, letting got as the man took hold. “For your troubles,” he said pleasantly. “Tell Longhand Luuk that Fenn Aquila wants a word, and it’s in his interest to say yes. Tell him tomorrow, by the statue of the fish.”

  The thief shook the money back, grinning at the ringing of the coins inside. “Aye,” he said. “I’ll tell ‘im. Can't promise what ‘ell say.”

  “‘Yes’ would be my guess. Now pick up your friend and piss off!”

  One of the thieves helped the fellow was struck too his feet. That man shot Fenn a look of venomous hate before all three took to their heels, headed down the alleyway and disappearing around a corner.

  Fenn turned to the cart, looking down on the moneybags piled inside. “Shame,” he said, “those fellows went through such trouble at their pilfering...and now it goes back to the biggest thief of them all.”

  “Terrible thing,” Kalin said, staring at the money with undisguised longing.

  Fenn tuned to ALyana. “Where is your apple cart?”

  Alyana tucked her pistols back into her belt. “Not far,” she said. “Be back in a moment.”

  Alyana went up the alley, and returned a moment later with her familiar-hand cart. She and Kalin swiftly emptied out the apples, while the others on the roof kept watch. Moneybags were taken from the chest and piled inside, then covered with a layer of apples to hide them from sight.

  One bag remained in the chest at Fenn’s insistence. “Got to give the General something,” he said at their puzzled looks. “Now, get that coin of of si
ght. And don’t spend it! First thing Mora’s men will be looking for.”

  “You’ll be the one he sends to look, I reckon,” Kalin said with a grin.

  “Hope for the best, plan for all to turn to shit. I’ll be around soon as I can.”

  Alyana and Kalen turned the now-laden apple cart around and pushed it down the alleyway, both grunted at the extra weight. The Red Shadows on the rooftops retreated, one of them giving Fenn a salute as he left.

  “Idiot!”

  Mora glared at Oleyvac. The captain took the insult stoically, though this had as much to do with the herbal compress he was holding against the back of his head and the headache ringing in his skull. The blow he’d taken hadn't broken bone, but it left him dazed for the better part of a day.

  Still, he was lucky...Fenn had known men who’d taken hits like that and spent the rest of their lives drooling like a child while pissing their pants. The worst Oleyvac came away with was a ringing in his ears that would fade in day, he still had his wits...though for the moment he’d probably wished otherwise.

  “I told you, the gold had to be watched! Now Tamelan’s money - my money! - is lining the pockets of every gutterscum thief within the walls! Well done Captain, your plan was brilliant!”

  Oleyvac’s mouth twisted, and there were any number of replies that might have come out. Instead he here lowered his eyes “I accept full responsibility,” he mumbled. “Though in my defense, the other three payments made it back safely.”

  “Which is why the bastards hit the last! They knew you’d be short on men. You should have seen that coming!”

  Fenn thought that unfair...he didn’t see something like that in cards, even in hindsight. The General was merely exhausting his wrath, and there was naught to do but wait until the fires burned themselves out.

  Fortunately it didn't take long. Mora called down curses on the head of every thief in Kirondaal and beyond, swearing on a multitude of saints and the holy name of the Godhead (as well as several pagan gods of Ruaadian origin for good measure) that he would visit a brutal vengeance upon th street scum of the city once his business was done.

  Then he calmed himself. “Still,” he said in a more measured tone, “there was no permanent harm done. The money from the other schools is more than enough for our needs.Rest your head Captain, I’ll need you whole for what comes next, so take this time to reflect on your failures.”

  “Yes, my lord.” Oleyvac’s tone was flat.

  Mora turned to Fenn. “At least you brought back something, even if was only a bag. I wonder why they left that behind?”

  “We were hard on their trail,” Fenn responded.

  ‘Which gang was it? There are so many in this turd of a city...though not as bad as Galadorn, I wager!”

  Fenn forced himself to smile. “Galadorn is in its own class, that is certain. But I cannot say which gang was involved...they don’t wear signs around their neck on a lay. But judging from their numbers, I’d say it was more than one, teaming up for a quick taking. I spiked a few with my blade, but none were taken prisoners by our men. If we keep an eye on the surgeons, particularly those with an aversion to asking questions, we might find more.”

  “Or we keep an eye on the market and the money being spent,” Oleyvac added. “If a large number of Galadornian aurins shows up in strongboxes, we can track down who’s doing the spending.”

  Fenn uttered a silent prayer that Kalin and others were heeding his instructions not to spend the money.

  “We can deal with that later,” Mora said firmly. “Things are moving faster than I expected. Fenndar, you have done well in my eyes. And Lady Kiala speaks highly of you as well.”

  I’ll bet she does, Fenn thought silently, tensing himself for what was coming next...Serrana’s counterstroke.

  “Things are about to become...chaotic in this city, and those who would strike at me will strike at her.” MOra shook his head. “That I will not allow, so until the plan is complete, you will be her bodyguard.”

  Fenn swallow back his bile. This was a death sentence...placing him in Serrana’s reach. She’d only have to decide which weapon to use at her convenience…

  The General was still speaking blathering on about the plan. “Pardon me,” Fenn asked. “What is this plan?” He had an idea of what it was, but wanted to hear it spoken aloud.

  And the General did not disappoint. “Why, the only thing worth having...power! I intend to overthrow the Four School and take Kirondaal for myself!”

  Chapter Thirteen

  “He wants to take the city?”

  “That’s what he said.”

  “Ambitious, I’ll give him that.”

  “And obvious. Anyone even half awake would have seen this coming, the moment they let Mora and his thugs take the place of the city militia.”

  “Anyone...except a pack of Arcanists and scholars with their eyes on the clouds and their heads firmly up their backsides.”

  “That doesn't make sense. How can you see the clouds when you head is shoved up your…”

  “It’s a figure of speech. It means they’re idiots.”

  “Still, it doesn't make sense.”

  “I’d be offended if I didn't l know all too well that you were just winding me up, and so I’ll accept your apparent confusion as honest and leave matters as they stand... and here we are.”

  They stood by the statue of the fish. it was early in the morning, and the docks were only now coming to life. A group of fishermen went past, yawning and grumbling as they set about the days business, clambering into their boats and pushing off from the docks. A gang of longshoremen gathered around a nearby pier, waiting for the master of a docked lakeboat to give permission to come aboard and start unloading his cargo.

  The area around the statue was calm by contrast. Only Fenn and Kalin stood there, though they were hardly alone...various other Red Shadows were scattered about, doing their best to blend in and keeping a sharp eye out.

  Kalin nudged him. “Here they come,” he said, jutting his chin down the harborfront. A group of men walked towards them, clustered about a tall, slender fell who ambled along with his hands clasped behind his back. He had a carefully trimmed goatee and graying hair tied back in a tail than hung down his back. Perched on the bridge of his nose were a pair of spectacles.

  “There’s our man,” Fenn said. To his eye the fellow resembled a bookseller rather than a gang leader.

  More men spread out across the dock, taking positions around them, keeping a sharp watch on the Red Shadows, who watched back with equal vigilance. Weapons were loosened in various sheaths, Fenn fancied he heard the sound of a hammer being cocked back on a gun.

  “Hope your tongue is silver this day,” Kalin muttered. “Gods and demons, this could go wrong so very fast.”

  No argument from Fenn. He waited as the man came to a halt before the statue, unclasping his hands from behind his back, and crossing them over his belly. Fenn glance down for a moment and saw fingers and thumbs no more or less in size than his own.

  “It ain’t the hands that are long,” said Longhand Luuk with a laugh. “It speaks to...my other qualities.”

  “Right. Spare me the details.” Fenn looked at the gang leader. He was dressed plainly, and he spoke with the voice and accent of someone who had spent time in a school room. “Longhand Luuk.”

  “Fenn Aquila. You have a reputation. And a big price on your head back in Galadorn.”

  Kalin tensed, and Fenn felt a twinge of fear at the base of his throat. “Have you come to collect?” he asked calmly, wondering if this was a mistake.

  But Longhand Luuk shook his head. “Not today. Not ever, truth be told. You may not have heard, but Ogeron the Brick is not well liked Kirondaal. Some years back he was involved in a deal that went sour in a bad way, and among the bodies that fell under those fists of his was a man near and dear to my heart, who taught me how to survive on the shady side. A good friend, and not just to me. I hear that you tried to put a blade in that
overgrown bastards back. That makes you alright by my lights...at least for the moment. That may change, if you don't give me and mine a good reason why you kept a fortune in gold out of our hands.” And here a hunt of menace entered his voice, the kindly bookseller baring sharp teeth.

  Fenn wondered if he should call on the Old Oath, then thought better of it. There was no hard rule on it, but it was generally understood that the Old Oath was best invoked among those whom the invoker had at least passing familiarity with, as in they knew each other’s names and reputations and the conquestions of besmirching one or the other. Longhand Luuk might respect the words...or might take it as an insult.

  Ah well. Life is risk. “Right, then straight to business. That load was the last of three enormous bribes paid to Lord Mora by the Four Schools. Each School paid it out on the assumption that they alone had the General in their pocket, no knowing he was taking money from all.”

  Longhand Luuk raised an eyebrow. “Clever of him,” he said. “Though the scholars of the Schools aren’t known for their common sense, else they’d have seen this coming a mile away.”

  “The General thinks the same. Which is why he plans on using the money the Schoolmen have paid him to overthrow the Council and take the city for himself.”

  Again, Luuk did not seem that surprised. “Well,” he said after a moment’s thought, “that was going to happen sooner or later. Mercenaries are not known for their restraint, and Avexiner scum less than most.”

  ‘You don’t see bothered by it,” Kalin observed.

  “And why would I care?” And here anger entered Longhand Luuk’s voice. “Hellfire take the Schools. I wouldn't stop t piss on a spellslinger if he was on fire and offering to pay!” He reached under his shirt and pulled out a tarnished brass medallion hanging on a string.

  “See this?” he said thrusting it out.

  Fenn leaned in for a look. On it was embossed the image of a cauldron over a fire, with a Smiling Sun face above it. “What about it?”