by C. Greenwood
“I see you also come to return the Thief’s Blade you stole from me,” he continued.
At a nod from him, a pair of burly men emerged from the crowd on either side of me. I stopped still and didn’t protest as they disarmed me, taking the black sword, my belt knife, and my magic bow.
“The Thief’s Blade is no longer yours,” I said to the thief king, even as the men stood by holding it. “It has found a worthier master. As has this guild.”
At that statement, a murmur rose from the crowd. I didn’t look to see whether it was the sound of approval or condemnation. My focus remained fixed on my rival. I continued toward him, and no one barred my way.
The thief king’s eyebrows rose in mockery, but I saw the glint of controlled anger in his eye. “You surprise me,” he said. “I knew you for a traitor but didn’t realize your arrogance extended quite so far. Do you truly think to wrest control of my own band away from me? Do you imagine any of my guild brothers here would stand for that?”
He swept an arm toward the gathering, exciting some cries of support. The buzz of the onlookers was growing louder.
“You may call them brothers and friends, but you don’t treat them as such,” I said. “They do not share in your power, and they benefit very little from your wealth, the same wealth they have built for you. Why else do you think so many have been swayed against you. If they want their portion of the goods, they must risk death to steal it from the treasure hoard you guard so greedily.”
“You say a great number have been swayed against me?” my enemy asked. Although he feigned surprise, I suspected he already guessed at how I had infiltrated the guild. “Who are these many supporters you claim to have? Javen? The magicker girl? I see Kinsley at your side. Is this your circle of rebels?” He sneered. “If there are more loyal to you than these, let them name themselves. Let them speak for all to hear.”
He tossed his challenge toward the crowd, his expression daring them to respond. Although I saw the faces of many who had joined in my secret circle, none of them spoke up now.
“They can’t make themselves known. Not while you deal ruthlessly with those who speak truths you don’t like,” I said, more for the benefit of the gathering than for the thief king. Like him, I knew winning the audience was what this confrontation was really about. Whoever won the thieves won the guild.
“Things would be different under my leadership,” I continued. “My guild brothers and sisters would have more of a say and a greater share in the spoils they brought in.”
The thief king interrupted with a harsh laugh. “I’ve heard enough of your traitorous talk, youngling. I’ve let you speak, and I’ve given your supposed ‘supporters’ time to add their voices to your argument,” he said. “But now my patience is exhausted. It is time for the guild to make its will known.”
He tossed his sword to a large shaven-headed man nearby. “Kill him,” the thief king ordered the big man.
The fellow hefted the sword but hesitated. He was Thorben, the thief king’s right-hand man and one of the earliest thieves to mentor me when I first joined the band.
A hush fell over the gathering as Thorben and I locked eyes. I could see the indecision in the big man’s face.
I was vaguely aware of Kinsley and Ada edging toward the front of the crowd, as if to protect me. I made a small motion with my hand, willing them to stay out of the way. There was nothing they could do.
“What are you waiting for?” the thief king demanded, angered at the delay. “This betrayer is a threat to the guild! Bring me his head! Or would you rather be ruled by a half-grown boy who’s never drawn blood, never been fit for anything but picking pockets in the street?”
His temper, barely held in check up to now, finally snapped. “Tain! Rorrick!” he shouted at two other thieves in the crowd. “You do it! Rid us of this rebel menace!”
The men he named exchanged glances, but neither drew the daggers at their belts. The surrounding crowd of thieves stirred in confusion. Groups of them began to argue with one another. But nobody moved to follow the thief king’s order against me. My circle of secret followers had done a good job of spreading doubt and quietly sowing rebellion.
“It seems our friends are not as happy with your rule as you believe,” I observed to their leader.
At my taunt, the last of the thief king’s control slipped away. With a roar of rage, he hurled himself at me. Before I had time to react, the guild leader closed the distance between us and grabbed me by the throat. Squeezing as if he would kill me with his bare hands, he closed off my airway until I was choking and gasping for breath. I clawed at his hands. But the thief king was larger than me, despite his lean build, and his grip was deceptively strong. There was a rushing sound in my ears as I fought to escape his hold, struggled to draw breath. I could feel my hammering pulse and the blood rushing to my head.
Slowly my enemy dragged me backward, my feet scrabbling across the stone floor. A blur of orange light moved before my bulging eyes, and I had a sensation of approaching heat. My foe was about to shove my head into one of the fiery braziers. The hot flames leapt up, inches from my face.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
At the last instant, I threw my hand out and caught hold of the side of the brazier. Pain seared through my skin as my hand closed around scorching metal. I managed to shove the brazier away from me. It fell over on its side, fire, sparks, and red coals spilling across the floor.
The thief king was startled by the sudden move, and I took advantage of his distraction. I gave up prying his hands off me and fumbled beneath my cloak. My desperate fingers found the hilt of a small hidden dagger, little more than a potato knife, that my enemy’s men had failed to detect when they disarmed me. I seized the weapon and drew on the last of my strength to thrust it up into the thief king’s belly.
Instantly I felt his grip loosen. I barely had time to stumble out of his way as his legs buckled and he collapsed to the floor. Drawing ragged breaths and feeling the room spin around me, I watched a pool of crimson swiftly form around the lifeless body at my feet.
Vaguely I was aware of the surrounding group of thieves looking on, motionless.
But their stillness didn’t last. As my dizziness passed and the roaring noise in my ears subsided, the gathering erupted into shouting and brawling. The guild was divided. Kinsley, gripping a cudgel in one hand and a dagger in another, plunged into the thick of it. I caught a glimpse of Ada throwing something that looked like magic lightning into the crowd. Someone rushed to unbind Javen. I realized it was Dradac, the forest thief I had brought to Selbius and introduced to the guild. After he set Javen free, both young men joined in the struggle. The rebels were finally emboldened to fight, battling against the thief king’s loyal remnant. Infuriated by their leader’s death, the king’s followers fought viciously. But my friends had the greater number and defended themselves well.
I had no sooner regained my strength than Thorben appeared at my elbow, presenting me with the Thief’s Blade. How he had wrested it away from the thieves who had been holding it, I could only guess. I accepted the offering and plunged into the fray.
It was a brief fight but a bloody one. When it was over, many thieves lay dead on the temple floor or sprawled across the outer steps. But our side prevailed and drove out the other half of the guild.
In the aftermath, I stood among the dead and watched the disappearing backs of our enemies fleeing into the night. The Thief’s Blade, never used by me before, was now stained red with the blood of many who had been my friends. But they had taken the part of their slain king and been willing to destroy me, so I didn’t mourn their deaths.
I looked around and counted my remaining companions. To my relief, I saw Ada, Kinsley, Dradac, and Javen looked dirty and exhausted but unharmed. Dozens of others were uninjured as well. My followers were occupied with nursing their wounds and catching their breaths. A few were picking over the bodies of the dead. With the end of the fighting, an unnatural stillness had
descended over us all. I knew I had to seize this moment to make an impression on my followers while our victory was still fresh in their minds.
I walked through the shadowed temple, my boots ringing hollowly in the silence. My friends paused in whatever they did, and I felt their eyes on my back. I stood before the body of my fallen enemy and looked down on the thief king. He appeared less threatening in death, an ordinary man whose power had fled him.
I drew back my black sword and chopped off the corpse’s head in a single, swift motion. The severed head rolled across the tiles like one of the glass marbles my brother used to play with. I shoved aside the mental image, unwilling to let that other part of my life meet this darker one.
Kinsley approached, his blood-spattered face looking weary and uneasy. Perhaps he thought I’d lost my mind.
“What are you doing, Rideon? He was already dead,” he pointed out.
I ignored the question. “Fasten his head to the temple wall,” I said. “The thief king liked grisly decorations. It is time he became one.”
And time I sent a message to his followers and mine.
I didn’t speak the thought aloud, but Kinsley must have guessed what was in my mind, because he obeyed without further questions.
As soon as the thief king’s head was secured to the wall at the front of the temple, I leapt atop the throne-like chair that had been his.
“Hence forward, I am the captain of this band of thieves,” I declared to my friends gathered around.
My words were met with applause and sounds of approval from my loyal followers.
I continued. “I will be a more generous ruler than the last. But make no mistake, anyone who betrays me will find his head fastened up alongside that of our last leader.”
I caught a glimpse of Ada’s face in the crowd. I was unsurprised at the worried way her brows drew together. They were hard words I spoke, but I had no intention of being overthrown in the same way I had just defeated my predecessor.
If the magicker girl didn’t like my apparent eagerness for more blood, everyone else cheered their approval.
But there was no time to glory in my victory. The moment was cut short when a boy, one of our own, burst into the temple. I supposed he must have been acting as a lookout outside.
“The city guard are coming!” he cried.
“They must have been drawn by the noise of the fighting,” I realized.
I ordered everyone to scatter. In minutes, we had cleared out of the temple and fled into the night.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
After that night at the temple, my existence in the city became even more dangerous than before. The city guard couldn’t ignore the violence that had occurred right there in the heart of Selbius. They became more vigilant. We soon received a tip they were watching the Ravenous Wolf tavern and other known criminal hideouts. Fearing the house where I had been laying low since the assassination might be one of those, I realized the time had come for me to leave the city. I had accomplished all I meant to by overthrowing the thief king, splintering the guild, and stashing away as much of the treasure as possible. It was frustrating to leave behind what remained of the wealth. But that was already in the hands of the city guard by now. Anyway, my object had been to gain a band of followers and enough treasure to start us out. I had that now. It was time to escape to Dimmingwood. I would bring a few of my thief friends with me and make preparations to welcome more of them later.
I used the messenger pigeons and my network of thieves to spread word of my plans. The part of the guild who had fought for me were to await my further instructions. The one person I didn’t inform of my leaving was Tarius, up at the castle. I still owed him a favor, and I knew he would try to press me into completing it before I left. But I didn’t have time to deal with him now.
I hastily packed away my things to depart for Dimmingwood. It occurred to me that I spent so much time moving these days I hardly bothered to unpack my traveling bag anymore. I said a brief goodbye to Ada, who had chosen not to join me in my flight from town. She said she stayed to be near Habon, but I suspected it was more than that. We had been friends ever since that day she had rescued Ferran and me from our cruel pursuers back in Camdon. But lately I had felt her distancing herself from me. Since the night of the thief king’s death, she looked at me strangely, as if she didn’t know me. I couldn’t blame her. I hardly knew myself anymore. All that remained of that long ago boy called Luka was the jasper-and-silver ring belonging to my father. That and the little leather-bound book containing the story of my life. All else was swept away, both by the amulet still stowed in my pack and by the death of Ferran. That last seemed to have killed something inside me, destroying my final link to a happier, more innocent time.
And so, Ada and I stood outside the back door of the little house and wished each other well, before parting ways.
“I don’t expect we’ll meet again,” I said to her.
“I imagine we won’t,” she agreed, tucking a strand of silvery hair behind one ear.
Her dress flapped in the morning breeze. It was just after dawn, a fine time for new beginnings but a strange one for goodbyes. The grayness of the sky was just fading into pale blue, and the grass in the yard was still wet with dew. Behind us, the messenger pigeons cooed inside their pens.
“Well, take care of yourself, Ada,” I said briskly. “I hope life is good to you.”
“You too, Rideon.” She looked as if she meant it.
I gave a stiff smile. “It’s too late for that, I think. But I’m glad you wish it for me.”
The tug of sadness I felt as I walked away was balanced by a sense of relief. I would always be grateful for the magicker girl’s early support. But I had plans for the future that I couldn’t carry out beneath her concerned and disapproving gaze. Besides, being with her always made me think of the adventures she, Ferran, and I had been through together. And any memories that brought up Ferran were still too raw to be poked at.
Ducking down a backstreet leading from the house, I tried not to worry about what lay ahead for Ada and Habon. I couldn’t protect them even if I was willing to risk Tarius’s wrath for their sake—and I wasn’t sure I was.
There was no hint of danger in the alleys I traveled. If there had been, the magic bow I had reclaimed after the fight at the temple would have glowed a warning. But the weapon remained as lifeless and cool to the touch as the Thief’s Blade I also carried. Still, I kept a sharp eye out and took care I wasn’t followed on my way.
I met Javen and Kinsley at a prearranged spot at the edge of the beggar’s quarter. They assured me our hastily made plans were all in order. We had struck an agreement with the landlord of the Ravenous Wolf to hide the bulk of our treasure, the wealth we had worked to steal from beneath the thief king’s nose. Anything we couldn’t easily carry with us today was now stashed in the basement below the tavern. Once, I hadn’t dared show my face in that place, dreading the anger of the thief king. But since the fracturing of the guild, the wind had shifted. The landlord was now eager to strike up the same mutually beneficial friendship with me he had enjoyed with the last thief leader. And so he would protect much of my goods until I was in a position to sell them off or send for them.
Javen, Kinsley, and I proceeded to the great sundial that stood at an intersection on the city’s main street. There we found a wagon waiting for us and, clustered around it, the other thieves who would make up the rest of our party. This included Dradac, Thorben, and a handful of others loyal to me. We numbered just over a dozen. There were many other supporters who wanted to join me, but I would summon them later. For now, I had selected only the men I trusted most. I needed to establish my new band and ensure my plans for the future were workable before I burdened myself with too many followers.
I climbed up into the front of the wagon, alongside Thorben. As we rolled slowly through the streets, it felt a lot like that other time we had smuggled stolen goods out of Selbius and into Dimmingwood. Thorben had
pulled the same trick today of hiding the cargo beneath a false wagon bed. It was as much of our treasure as we could carry at once. Over this was a scattering of loose straw and a heap of ordinary supplies and traveling packs that no one would question.
I knew a brief moment of tension as we passed between the city gates. After all, it wasn’t long ago the entire city had been in an uproar, looking for the mysterious assassin who had murdered the praetor of Camdon. But no description of me must have ever gotten out, because the gate guards didn’t give me a second glance. They looked over our wagon with equal disinterest and let us continue on our way. Out on the bridge spanning the lake, as the cooling lakeweed-scented breeze blew over me, I felt as if a weight had been lifted away. I hadn’t realized until now how oppressive the city had become. I was eager to escape to the sheltering shadows of Dimmingwood.
* * *
We reached the forest on our second day of travel. But we didn’t head immediately to the place I had in mind. We stopped instead at the first little woods settlement we passed. This was the tiny village of Shadow Haven. I was familiar with the place, having been here twice before. Once, I had taken refuge in the village after an attack by a vicious madman in the forest. Another time, I had come here on a guild errand to trade stolen property from the city with the locals.
It wasn’t by accident that we returned to Shadow Haven now. The thieves had been doing business with the villagers for years, and I planned on keeping up that relationship. I had goods to sell, and more importantly, my party needed more supplies. We had been forced to leave Selbius abruptly and weren’t equipped to exist for weeks in the forest. With any luck, we would acquire all the provisions we needed here.
The villagers greeted us with their usual coolness toward strangers, but we had no trouble interesting them in what we had to sell. Folk here were always glad of a chance to buy cheaply what they couldn’t otherwise afford. They must have guessed the illegal source of our cargo, but it didn’t appear to trouble them. We quickly sold or traded much of our stolen property and obtained the supplies we wanted in return.
