Child of the Night Guild (Queen of Thieves Book 1)
Page 6
“Silence.” Master Velvet glared at Three. “You have two days. Two days to show me what you can do with that thing.”
“Yes, Master Velvet.”
“If, at the end of those two days, you perform better than you did today, you can keep it. If not…”
Three’s eyes shone with delight. “Thank you, Master Velvet!”
“Don’t let me down, tyro.” Master Velvet’s face turned ugly. “You don’t want to find out what happens to those who waste my time.”
Chapter Nine
Thwack! Thwack! Straw exploded beneath the impact of Three’s hurled stones.
“Well done, tyro!” Master Velvet applauded. “That’s impressive work. I see you’ve spent the last two days in a productive manner.”
Three ducked his head but couldn’t hide his smile. “Yes, Master Velvet. Every spare moment, sir.”
“It shows, lad. You may be hopeless at lifting valuables, but that little trick of yours will serve you well on the streets.”
“Thank you, Master Velvet.”
Master Velvet raised an eyebrow. “Though I worry what will happen should your opponent close the distance before you can let fly.”
Three’s face fell. “I hadn’t thought of that, sir.”
“No, you hadn’t. Get over to that table and fetch a dagger. Ask Ten to teach you a few tricks. He’s done well with Seven. With any luck, you’ll make half as much progress as she has.”
Seven stifled a grin. High praise, coming from Master Velvet.
“Yes, sir.” Three tucked the sling into his belt and hurried to the table. He returned with a dagger matching Seven’s.
“Ten. Lend the little’un a hand, will you?”
“Yes, Master Velvet.” Ten beckoned Three to join him.
“Back to work, tyros!”
For the next hour, Seven thrust, cut, and sliced at the straw dummy, practicing the strikes Ten had taught her. Master Velvet watched with a wary eye. He only spoke to correct her form or offer pointers before moving on to the other tyros. Seven allowed her mind to wander as her body went through the motions of the knife work.
Master Velvet’s voice signaled the end of training. “Enough, drudges. Weapons away!”
Groans of relief echoed around the Menagerie. Seven slumped to the floor beside Three, gasping for breath. She leaned her head against the wall and closed her eyes. Her hands and wrists ached from the repeated strikes.
“No time for dawdling, tyros. On your feet and form up!”
Seven obeyed, though her body protested the movement. She hustled into the line facing Master Velvet.
“Cloaks on! Time to show me your nimble little fingers at work. Or would you prefer to test your skills on my vest?”
Seven scanned the crowd for Three and found him talking to Ten. The two boys paired off, leaving her to work with Four. The lank-haired, sunken-cheeked boy thrust the cloak at her. “You first.”
Seven donned the cloak. “The purse is here in the inner pocket.”
Four grunted and nodded. He performed the snatch with jerky movements and cursed at his repeated failures.
“Here, try this.” She showed him how to position his hand properly. “That way, you’ll catch the purse as the cloak flares out.”
He tried again and managed to snatch the purse without tugging on the cloak.
She beamed. “Well done!”
The corner of Four’s mouth twitched and he nodded. “Let’s do the bump.”
He obliged, with surprising skill. “Damn, Four! That was amazing. I didn’t feel a thing! How do you do that?”
Four’s face split into a smile and he shrugged. “Comes naturally, I guess.”
“Can you show me how you do it? I can’t get it right no matter how many times I try.” She held up her hands. Blood trickled from a freshly-opened wound. Master Velvet’s vest showed less pity than the man himself.
“It’s easy, really. Just position your hand above the pocket, dip with your two fingers, and use your wrist to pull it free. Try not to use your arm.”
Seven threw the cloak at him. “Here. Let me try it.” She tried the bump the way he showed her, her movements deliberate, cautious.
Four nodded. “Good, just like that. Faster this time.”
When she came away with the purse, she knew she’d done it correctly.
“A few more times and you’ll have it down pat.”
Seven performed the bump again, and Four corrected her mistakes. She repeated it until she had it just right.
“Your turn.” She reached for the cloak. “Let me help you with the snatch.”
When Master Velvet called an end to the practice, Seven couldn’t contain her excitement. Her hand shot up the moment he called for a volunteer.
“All right, Seven,” he said, raising an eyebrow. “Let’s see what you can do.”
I have to do it! Time to stand tall.
Heart pounding, Seven walked toward Master Velvet. She kept her pace slow and her breathing measured. Feigning a misstep, she stumbled into Master Velvet, dipped her fingers into the pocket, and tugged. With a grin, she held up the purse.
“Well done, tyro.” Master Velvet nodded and jerked his head toward the table. “You’ve earned your meal.”
Her smile refused to leave as she took her place on the bench. For the first time, she had her pick of the food. There was no one to shove her aside or knock her to the floor. Master Velvet was right.
I earned this!
* * *
“That was amazing, Seven! I don’t know how you did it…”
“Four helped me.” She nodded to the blue-eyed tyro. “And I helped him with the snatch.”
“If only there was someone who could help me.”
“At least you’re not as bad as Twelve.” She glanced over at the heavy boy, who hugged his bloodied hands to his chest.
“Yeah, but that’s not saying much. Look at me.” Three groaned and held up his lacerated hands. Gokulah unguent glistened in the torchlight, the smell permeating the room.
“Tomorrow. I’ll show you how to do it right.”
“Thanks, Seven. It’s tough to use the sling with my fingers all stiff and aching.”
“Where did you learn to use that thing?”
Three scrunched up his face. “My father, I think. I have a memory of a man, though it’s pretty vague. I remember hurling stones at birds. But that’s it.”
Seven’s memories hadn’t returned either, though the haze in her head had cleared. “Well, it’s a good thing he did. You’re terrible with the other weapons…”
Three punched her, forgetting the pain in his hands. He groaned and they laughed together.
“Don’t worry, Three. You’ll get better at lifting, even if we have to spend every waking hour practicing.”
* * *
“Damn it, Seven! We’ve been at it for hours and I’m not getting any better!”
“Yes you are, Three.”
It was a lie. Three managed the snatch five times out of ten, but failed every attempt at the bump. He lacked the dexterity.
“Come on. Try again.”
Three growled in frustration when, predictably, he failed. “It’s no good! I’m hopeless at this.”
“You have to keep trying. I doubt Master Velvet will go easy on you. At least you’re not as bad as Twelve.”
Twelve fumbled at the inner pocket of the cloak hanging from Eleven’s shoulders. Sweat coated the heavy boy’s face, and Seven read failure in his expression. Face red, Twelve snarled at Eleven. The smaller boy shied away, eliciting a bark of laughter from Twelve.
“Yeah, there’s that, at least.” Three’s face brightened. “Let’s try it again.”
Seven adjusted the cloak so the outer pocket hung within easy reach. “Now, when you go in for the bump, hold your fingers like this.” She showed him how to position his hand, as Four had taught her. “Take it slow, but concentrate on holding your hand just so.”
Three did as instructed
and managed to pull off the bump with only a slight tug at her robe.
“You’re getting it! A few more tries and you’ll—”
“Grub’s up, tyros.” Master Velvet’s voice echoed loud in the cavernous Menagerie. “Drop those cloaks and get some food in your bellies.”
Seven shrugged out of the heavy garment and followed the others toward the table.
“Of course, if you want to eat, you’ll need to earn it.”
With a groan, the children turned back to Master Velvet, who grinned like a cat standing over a mouse. “Who’s first?”
Four’s hand shot up just ahead of hers, and he lifted the purse on the first try.
“Good for you, Four. You’re almost ready.”
Seven’s mind raced. For what?
Master Velvet, however, seemed disinclined to offer more. Seven volunteered to go next and pulled off the bump with a minor scratch.
Master Velvet nodded. “Off with you, Seven.”
With a smile for Four, Seven took her place on the bench. She munched on a handful of dried fruits and watched the other tyros. Eight and Two performed the bump with ease, and even Three managed it on the third try. Tears shone in his eyes and he clutched his lacerated fingers as he hurried toward the table, but he wore a smile. Nine’s blood added to the deep crimson of Master Velvet’s vest. Only after a dozen tries and a dozen deep wounds did he succeed.
Only Twelve remained.
“Well, well.” Master Velvet stroked his chin and stared down at the boy. “Here we are again, Twelve. Don’t tell me you’re still failing miserably.”
Twelve hung his head and held his peace.
Master Velvet sighed. “Well then, let’s get this out of the way.”
Twelve yelped as the razor lining sliced his fingers.
“Hopeless. Dumber’n your father, and that’s saying a lot. If you weren’t such a vicious cunt with your fists, I’d despair of ever finding use for you.” He rubbed his eyes. “Thank the Watcher we have use for the thick lads like you.”
“Yes, Master Velvet,” Twelve mumbled, his face burning.
“Off with you.” Master Velvet made a shooing gesture. “Soon enough, it won’t matter that you’re the worst lifter I’ve ever seen.”
Twelve hurried toward the table, his face burning, a storm brewing behind his eyes. His path led him straight at Seven.
She hustled out of the bigger boy’s way. Better avoid him when he’s like this. No telling what he’ll do.
Two, however, ignored Twelve. He remained seated, content to munch at the food spread out before him.
Twelve snarled. “Move.”
A memory flitted through Seven’s head: a man sat at a table, growling at her to work. She couldn’t remember the face, but would never forget the anger.
Two didn’t move. He reached for an apple, turned to face Twelve, and took a noisy bite from the fruit. He leaned back against the table, arms folded across his chest.
Twelve’s face burned and his fists clenched at his side. “Get out of my way, Two!”
“No.” Two returned the angry glare. “You’re just another one of us. You don’t give commands here.”
Twelve swung, a blow aimed at Two’s jaw. The taller boy blocked the punch and slammed the apple into Twelve’s mouth. Blood mixed with crushed apple pulp and Twelve fell back.
“Go away, Twelve.” Two crossed his arms again. “Leave us—”
With a roar, Twelve launched himself at Two’s midsection. The taller boy twisted aside, but Twelve’s heavy arms wrapped around his waist. Snarling, Twelve heaved Two from his feet and slammed him onto the table.
The impact knocked the breath from Two’s lungs and his head struck a cup. He lay there, dazed, as Twelve leapt onto the table. The big boy’s boot slammed into Two’s ribs. Seven winced at the crack.
Twelve dropped atop Two, his elbow plowing into the boy’s face. Blood spurted from Two’s nose and lip. He tried to protect his face as Twelve rained down blow after blow. The heavier boy’s face twisted into a mask of insane rage, his lips curled back, and spittle flew from his mouth.
“Enough!” Master Velvet seized Twelve by the scruff of his collar and yanked the boy off Two. He threw the heavy tyro to the floor, knelt on his chest, and slapped him hard. “I told you I would not abide any sort of fighting.”
Twelve had lost his mind. His eyes were glazed, unfocused, his face red, his fists striking at Master Velvet.
Master Velvet slapped Twelve hard again, twice, three times. The blows cracked across his cheek and rocked the big boy’s head. “Lie still, boy, or by the Watcher, I’ll beat you so bad the Long Keeper himself won’t be able to tell you from a pile of shite!”
Master Velvet’s words penetrated the boy’s anger-fueled daze. Twelve’s fists stopped pumping in the air and his arms dropped. He lay on his back, gasping for air, his teeth still bared in a snarl.
Master Velvet looked over at Two. “You’ll live?”
Two wheezed, coughed blood, and mumbled something incoherent.
“Good. Three, Four, Eleven. Get him back to his bunk. I’ll be in shortly with something for the injuries.”
The three named tyros hurried to help the taller boy and, together, they stumbled from the room.
“Now what to do with you, Twelve?” Master Velvet looked down at the boy beneath him.
He yanked Twelve to his feet and dragged him toward the weapons table.
“It seems my first lesson didn’t penetrate your thick skull. Perhaps this will help you to remember!” Seizing the cosh, he laid into the boy, striking the tyro’s arms, shoulders, chest, abdomen, legs, and head. Twelve cried out and tried to protect himself. “You’re a vicious cunt, lad, but there’s a time and place for that!”
Master Velvet slammed his fist into the boy’s gut, doubling him over. He kicked the back of Twelve’s knees. Twelve fell to the floor, weeping and curling into a ball.
He knelt beside the boy, bent low, and whispered something into his ear.
“Yes, Master Velvet,” Twelve sobbed.
“I won’t be repeating myself, tyro. Unless you want to find out what happens to those who disobey, this is the end of it.”
Master Velvet stood, and Seven averted her eyes. She pushed away her bowl of gruel; her appetite had fled.
“Look at him, tyros. Look at him well.”
Seven obeyed, her stomach in knots.
Master Velvet stabbed a warning finger at the sobbing figure huddled on the floor. “Let this be a lesson. No fighting amongst each other. If I am forced to say it again, I will not stop at just a beating. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Master Velvet!”
“Good. Now off with you.” A look in Master Velvet’s eye promised Twelve’s suffering had just begun.
Seven hurried from the Menagerie, the other tyros close on her heels. She cast a glance over her shoulder and caught a glint of steel in Master Velvet’s hand. Rushing into the room, she climbed onto her bunk and buried her head in her pillow. The thick wool failed to block out Twelve’s screams.
Chapter Ten
The bunk room door banged open and Master Velvet strode in. “Today is the day, my drudges! Today, you prove yourselves worthy to join the Night Guild.”
Seven groaned and rolled to her feet, rubbing sleep from her eyes.
“You have learned much in these months of training. Some more than others.” Master Velvet threw a dark bundle into the center of the room. “Don these with pride, tyros, and prepare to be tested.”
Tested? Seven’s stomach churned as she pushed forward and pawed through the clothing on the floor. She managed to grab a pair of breeches and a tunic about her size before being shoved aside. What new torture has he dreamed up?
“These tests will not be easy. They will challenge your mind and your body. Pray to the Watcher to guide your thoughts and actions. You do not wish to discover the price of failure.”
Seven slipped out of the stiff brown tunic she had worn for…
“Form up!”
Seven scrambled into line with the other tyros.
Master Velvet paced, hands clasped behind his back. “These clothes mark you as belonging to the Night Guild. The moment you don these robes, you accept your role in the Guild. Today, my drudges, marks the beginning of your apprenticeship.”
Seven’s heart leapt. Could it be? No more hauling buckets. No more fear of Master Velvet’s razor-lined vest. It’s almost over!
Master Velvet rounded on them, eyes blazing. “But be warned, little ones! Do not let me down.” Torchlight glinted off the blade that appeared as if by magic. “You do not wish to suffer the…consequences.” He let the word hang in the air.
Seven shuddered. Her eyes followed the hypnotic dance of the knife.
Master Velvet’s expression softened and his feline grin returned. “But I have trained you well, my drudges. I know you will do me proud.”
She met his gaze and a chill ran down her spine. His eyes held no warmth or pity. He would not hesitate to carry out his word if she failed.
“Come now.” Master Velvet pulled the bunk room door open. “To the Menagerie.”
Seven stumbled into the tunnel, fear and apprehension twisting her stomach in knots. What awaited her in the Menagerie? What were these tests Master Velvet promised? She clenched her fists to stop her hands trembling.
It doesn’t matter. I will stand tall.
Master Velvet held up a hand. “Be patient, tyros. Soon enough, you will have your chance to prove yourselves. Remain here until I come for you.” He strode toward the Menagerie and disappeared into the massive room.
Eight whimpered at the head of the line. Seven didn’t envy him; he would face the test firsts. She craned her neck. Three stood in last place. His lip quivered, but he stood with a straight back and head held high. Seven smiled and he nodded to her.
He will pass. He has to!
Master Velvet appeared at the mouth of the tunnel. “Eight.” He beckoned. “Your time has come.”