Thief

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Thief Page 5

by Kris Kramer


  Chapter 3

  The blow to my head didn’t entirely knock me out, but it did leave me woozy, and much of what happened after that faded into a blur. I remember being lifted off the ground and carried by two large men, and happily seeing Riose dragged along a few paces behind me, unconscious. I think I tried to say something at the time, only to be smacked across the face, but the strange part is that I have no memory of actually getting hit. I saw the hand come at me, but there’s nothing after that moment. Not until we reached the camp.

  A short burst of strange whistles announced our arrival, and a half-dozen men emerged from the forest to watch us being dragged into camp. I tried to stay alert and take in as much as possible before my captors threw me into a tent, or worse, a hole. I needed to know how to get out when I escaped. Because I would. But it was still dark, my head throbbed, and I couldn't focus on anything besides my insatiable desire for revenge on everyone who had conspired to bring me to this state.

  Riose had been telling the truth about Hagrim, and I had no doubt we’d been taken to him. His camp was a built into a clearing in the woods - well, a clearing for this part of the woods. The Anahal Forest was essentially the southernmost tip of the Great Forest, the maddeningly thick and maze-like home of the elves, only without the protective magic and the traps that could kill you if you didn’t know what to look for. So any patch of woods where trees and brush weren’t suffocating you was considered a clearing. Not many men were up and around this early, but the ones that were watched us carefully. About thirty or forty tents were scattered about, but that count wasn't completely trustworthy at the time because I may have been seeing double.

  You can’t spend any amount of time in Raven’s Crest without hearing about Jon Hagrim, the man who’d raided its border towns for nearly thirty years now. Not consistently, of course, and not always as the bandit-king he was now. There were enough rumors about the man to make one crazy trying to reconcile them all, but some of them told the same stories, so those were the ones we chose to believe as true. According to legend, he started off as a lieutenant under the previous bandit-king in these woods, a man named Sladek. Sladek either died or retired - no one knows for sure - leaving a brutish man named Connel in charge. Connel nearly ruined the entire bandit army with his brutality and lack of cunning, so Hagrim challenged him for leadership and won. They fought using only weapons fashioned from the woods around them, and according to the story, while Connel fashioned a spear, Hagrim was much more creative. He used dirt and mud to blind Connel, vines to trip him up, and rocks to beat the man senseless. The rumors also say that Hagrim didn't want Connel dead, at least not by his hands, and instead sent him off to the nearby town of Sowhagen, where he was imprisoned for his crimes and then hung.

  However he came to have control of this army, Hagrim made effective use of them. Once he raided a town, or a village, or a convoy, he moved as far away from the crime as he could. He had no regular base, he never used the same camp twice, and when he did leave a camp, he left no trace that he'd ever been there. Once, some men from Raven's Crest boasted that they'd found the remnants of a Hagrim camp, looking to claim a reward, but when soldiers followed them back out, they said the clearing was so meticulously cleaned that they couldn't discern any difference from the rest of the woods surrounding it. The men received no reward, and from that day on, everyone in Raven's Crest referred to the reward as the ‘Fools Gold’.

  He rarely left behind any witnesses to his crimes, but that didn't mean he killed them. The best stories had him bathing in his victim's blood after a successful raid, but according to those who knew a little more about him, he rarely killed his captives, preferring instead to sell them off as slaves to faraway lands. It was an excellent strategy. Selling his captives not only made him money, but the lack of survivors from his raids made people assume the worst, building up his reputation and people's fear of him. And sending the slaves across the world meant that even if they did escape, they likely wouldn’t make it back anyway.

  Riose and I were taken to a corner of the camp and dropped unceremoniously onto the ground. We were each tied to the trunk of a tree, about two paces from each other, with our hands behind our backs. They’d already removed our weapons, armor and gear, most of which Riose already had, and they took off our boots, probably to discourage running away. After tying us up, the guards left us alone briefly, and I suspected it was to see if we would immediately try to escape. I would have liked nothing better, but the ropes were tight, and we weren't going anywhere without a knife. A few men watched us sporadically the rest of the night, but for the most part we were left alone in the dark.

  “Well, at least you got both of us killed," I said, still woozy.

  Riose frowned, and glared at me. “You’re the reason we’re here. I told you to shut up.”

  “No one tells me to shut up.”

  “Obviously.”

  We sat in silence for a while, a long while. My thoughts drifted about - partially because it was still hard to focus - and only some of them were about what my fate would be. I didn't mind being sold as a slave. As long as I could survive, I could escape, and once I escaped, my fury would rain vengeance down upon everyone who'd crossed me this night, no matter where in this world I ended up. I just had to hope Hagrim really was a reasonable man in search of profit, and not a bloodthirsty savage.

  Of course, that only led to more frustration for being tied up in his camp, completely at his mercy. I’d come so close to getting away, only for fate to decide otherwise. Twice. Riose was right, my carelessness led to my capture by both Riose and Hagrim, and I needed to make sure that never happened again. I had plenty of pressing issues to deal with, but it couldn’t hurt to find out how Riose had caught me so easily. And now was as good a time as any to find out, no matter how much I wanted to avoid talking to him. So I asked.

  Riose perked up and raised his eyebrow. “Why do you care how I found you?”

  “I care because we have nothing better to do out here. And because you’re going to help me make sense of this.”

  He grunted, and took his time before uttering a response. “Luck.”

  “Luck? You just happened to have a trap set for me, on the road I was traveling, in the middle of the night?”

  “Yep.”

  “Look around you. Now is not the time to protect your tricks of the trade.”

  “No tricks. Word got out that you were back, and a few of us guessed right that you were on your way to Raven’s Crest. I didn’t have the manpower to try and stop you at Harfort, not with someone like Arnum after you, so I did the next best thing. I assumed you were smart enough to know he was coming and capable enough to get away. And I covered the escape routes.”

  “There were two paths out of town. How did you know which one I was taking?”

  “Luck.” He smiled. It was infuriating.

  I sighed. “So that’s it? You just picked one and got it right?” He nodded, and I shook my head. Now I had the gods of fate helping this man of all people.

  "You know," he said, "some people say that if you prepare well enough for it, then fortune will find you.”

  I leaned my head back, annoyed. “Well, I choose not to learn my life lessons from jabbering old women and innkeepers.”

  “Seems like a fairly valid suggestion from my vantage point. I caught myself a thief tonight. Right up until you threw yourself off a hill and into the arms of Hagrim’s men.”

  “Why do you keep saying that? Why were you after me only for theft?” I asked. “I’m wanted in Pontas for theft and murder. Not that I’m guilty of either,” I added.

  Riose shrugged. “The man who hired me said he only wanted you brought back for stealing something. He never told me why, and he never mentioned the murder charges, even though I’d heard about them.”

  “Who hired you?”

  A skeptical frown crept across his face. He was probably unsure about revealing his employer, a code amongst bounty hunters. A glanc
e at his new surroundings, however, seemed to remind him that he had nothing left to protect. “His name is Garrick.”

  The name meant nothing to me, which meant he was probably some low level watch captain or clerk looking to flip me and turn me in himself. That was a common practice. Bring in someone on something mundane and pay little, then turn them in for the real bounty and collect ten times as much. Nice try Garrick, whoever you are. I decided once I got out of this I’d kill him too, just for involving me in his greedy schemes. “Sounds like your friend Garrick is playing dirty."

  "Why?"

  "He's going to flip me."

  "No he's not."

  "Sure he is,” I explained. “That’s how things work. People need to make money, and they’ll do anything they can to get it. We’re all living in the Pelorin Empire, the greatest empire in history. But no one will admit that it’s not anywhere near what it used to be. Everyone is either starving, poor, greedy, or living in the past. Garrick saw a chance to make some extra money by playing you for a fool. He’ll die for that one day, but you can’t blame him for playing the game.”

  “He’s not the type.”

  “Right. You just happened to make a deal with one of the few honest people in your business."

  That’s when Riose betrayed his thoughts. He kept a cool exterior, but I saw in his face the slightest hint of worry that I might be right. Not that he’d admit it. "Garrick isn't a bounty hunter."

  "Uh huh," I said. Neither of us spoke for several moments. I was too busy fuming, and Riose just stared at the ground, shifting his shoulders and arms over and over again, trying to get comfortable. A torch nearby provided the only light, but it sat between me and the rest of the camp, and the glare made it hard to see anything except for this little corner. Finally, Riose broke the silence.

  “What did you steal?”

  I turned and stared at him like he’d just vomited up a dwarf. “What did I steal?” I repeated the words, slowly. “You went to all this trouble and you don’t even know?”

  He shrugged. “Details.”

  “Details. You don’t like details?” I began to raise my voice, but the guards nearby started paying more attention to me than I wanted, so I tried to stay calm. At least on the outside. “Sounds like the details would have helped in this case.”

  “You’re either a thief, or you aren’t. You either killed someone, or you didn’t. The only thing the details do is blur the line. They’re tools used by thieves and murderers to create excuses for why they did what they did. Details complicate things that should be simple.”

  “Hmpf. I would have pegged you as more concerned about justice than the strict rule of law.” He gave me a look that made it clear I’d hit home about something. Had I pushed on, I may have found out what it was, but I didn’t care. “It’s a gem,” I began, “that might have some magical properties. And I didn’t steal it. I retrieved it from someone who stole it from me. I may have left a few bodies behind in the process, but they deserved it for being employed by a criminal, and killing in self-defense is not murder.”

  “No, it’s not. But it sounds to me like you broke into someone’s house, killed some guards, and took an item you now claim to be your own.”

  I didn’t have much to say to that, other than “No one steals from me. No one.”

  Riose grinned. “So, a magical gem? Don’t see many of those around.”

  He was mocking me, which roused my anger, but it wasn’t all directed at him. “It could be a piece of hardened cow droppings for all I care. I don’t even want the thing.” He looked at me curiously, and I knew what he was thinking so I didn’t even wait for him to ask. “But no one steals from me. Even if I hate lugging the damn thing around, I don’t let someone take what’s rightfully mine, not without repercussions. Not without sending a message. The people I killed, those were the real thieves and murderers. They’re the dangerous ones. They should be locked up, or hanged, or executed. All I did was save people like you the trouble of doing it later. Someone should be paying me a bounty right now.”

  “If you say so.”

  “It’s been more trouble than it’s worth," I continued, venting more to myself than to him, "ever since I found it. The problem is everyone believes in the stories, so they all want it, and they’re all willing to go to extreme lengths to get it. And these are powerful people, too. Lords. Generals. Dralasians. People you don’t want on your bad side. If anyone else had that gem in their possession, they’d be dead by now.”

  “So you’re its protector?” he asked, eliciting a depressed sigh from me. I don't think he was serious, but that's because he didn't understand what I'd been through. I was the gem’s protector. I had been ever since that time in Therabad, whether I liked it or not. Of course, I didn’t fully understand what I was getting into when I let myself be conned into this job, seeing only the potential payday, but I knew very well what it entailed by now.

  I’d had the gem for years, and I’d even spent some time roaming about the world in an effort to escape those who wanted it back. It took a while for anyone to figure out exactly where it was and who had it, but once they did, I faced trial after trial trying to keep it in my own hands. I passed them all… all except the latest one. That time, one of them got smart and used my weakness for women against me. She showed up out of nowhere, seduced me, and stole the gem before I even knew what happened. It was masterful work… except for the part where they didn’t kill me. They all paid for that mistake.

  This game had become tiresome, though, and the stakes were starting to outweigh the gem’s worth to me. Had any one of them tried to negotiate with me, I might have just sold it to them. All I really cared about was the gem’s value. Powerful people were falling over themselves trying to take it, which meant it was obviously valuable, but no one thought to offer me a bag of gold for it, at least not a real one. Instead, they disrespected me and my reputation by thinking they could just kill me and get it back for free. Well, their violence begat my retribution. Over and over again.

  But I was done now. I’d retrieved the gem, and I was on my way to Raven’s Crest to finally give it to someone who could handle the responsibility better than I. I’d get nothing for it, but by now I didn’t care. I was half a day away from ridding myself of this burden, and then this lucky bastard of a bounty hunter had to guess right and capture me – and he didn’t even know why. And then we both end up falling into Jon Hagrim’s lap. I had to escape, and I had to escape with the gem. As much as I hated it, it was mine to give away. No one else’s.

  No one steals from me.

  “Yes,” I said, feeling the weight of pride, ego, and responsibility on my shoulders, “I am its protector. For now.”

 

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