by J. J. Newman
The council was made up of Watch Commander Bryce, the head of The City Watch, Master Henning of the Merchants Guild, Admiral Cunak of The Navy, and Sir Godfreid, Paladin Commander for the Church of the Light.
None of them had any real power, save Master Henning. The City was truly run by the guilds. Trade was controlled by the merchant guilds. To hire a laborer one would have to commission the Laborer’s guild. There was a guild for nearly everything, and their strict rules and policies might as well have been considered law. No council member would dare anger the guilds, for they had the power to shut down the entire city, which in turn would cripple all of Arindine.
Tsaeris finished his breakfast, and headed out into the streets. It was morning, and the streets were crowded. The people looked hopeless, most of them having resigned to their lot in life years ago. They walked without ever seeing the world around them, which made them easy prey for the many street kids working the morning crowd.
Tsaeris took a moment to cut another purse, and was excited to feel a silver penny hit his palm. The luck was with him today after all, it seemed, even if it wasn't in the gold-giving mood. Tsaeris was feeling good. The morning wasn't even over yet, and he was already done his work for the day. He wondered how he should spend the rest of it.
A commotion broke out on the other side of the cobblestone street. It seemed a street kid had been caught in the act of purse cutting, and the large, angry victim had the boy tightly by the wrist. The street kid tried desperately to get away, but the man held him tight. A few words were shouted by the man, but Tsaeris could not make them out amidst the noise of the street crowds. The kid’s eyes widened in fear. The large man took the boy’s arm in both hands, and deliberately broke his wrist. Tsaeris could hear the boy scream. The people walking by barely took notice as the large man tossed the screaming boy into a nearby alley, and walked away. Street kids were considered pests, as reviled as the common rat.
Tsaeris watched the large man leave, and looked back at the crying boy in the alley. The boy noticed Tsaeris watching, and the two made eye contact. The boy mouthed the word help. Tsaeris shrugged, and then walked away. There was nothing he could do for the boy, so why even bother? An injury like that usually meant death in the streets. That kid’s life was over, and Tsaeris had himself to worry about. Survival. That's all that mattered.
***
Tsaeris walked into the tavern in the late afternoon. He took a quick survey of the common room and saw a familiar face sitting at one of the tables. He ordered a tankard of ale, then walked to the table and took a seat.
“Jason,” Tsaeris said.
“Hey, Tsaeris. We both took enough for a drink or two, it seems.” Jason was another Street kid, about the same age as Tsaeris. He was smaller than Tsaeris, which was a rare thing, and he had sandy blond hair. He looked much younger than he was.
“Yeah. The luck saw fit to drop a silver penny my way.” Tsaeris took a long pull of the ale.
“Well then, looks like you're buying me an ale or two.” Jason grinned.
Tsaeris considered it for a moment. He hated sharing. It was bad habit to share when you had next to nothing, but Tsaeris liked Jason enough, he supposed, and he wouldn't mind the boys company while he drank. A silver penny could go a long way for two boys, at least for a single night.
“Alright Jason. I'll buy for the night, but I want one of your knives.” Tsaeris smirked as Jason considered. Jason had two knives. It seemed a fair trade to him, and he hated paying and getting nothing in return.
“I don't know Tsaeris,” Jason said doubtfully.
“Oh, come on, Jason. You don't know? You want free drink all night for nothing? Tell me, when was the last time you had to use both knives at the exact same time? “
Jason frowned. “Tell you what. Throw in a bit of food, and I'll do it.”
“No. It's not like those knives are daggers. They're just crummy little blades. And besides, buying you food means I drink less. That's not going to happen.”
Jason sighed. “But you already have a knife,” he complained.
Tsaeris shrugged. “This isn’t about the knife, Jason. It’s business. You want something for nothing, go cut another purse.”
Jason gave a heavy sigh. “Alright, Tsaeris. You buy for the night, and you can have one of my knives.”
Tsaeris smiled. “Good. Hand it over.” Tsaeris looked at the tiny rusty knife Jason handed to him. It wasn't much bigger than the blade Tsaeris used to cut purses.
“I don't get it, Tsaeris. With all the luck you have, why you don't just save up and buy a better knife or dagger yourself.”
Tsaeris made a motion, and the knife seemed to disappear into thin air. “Where am I going to buy a dagger, Jason? There are no weapon smiths in Darson, and weapons are probably more expensive than you think they are. Besides, I don't need a fancy expensive weapon. Odds are if I'm in a situation where I need one, I'm screwed anyway.”
Jason snorted. “Didn’t you used to own a dagger?”
“Yes. But I didn’t buy it!” Tsaeris replied, incredulously.
“If you don’t need it for a weapon, why even take my knife?”
“I don't know. Seemed wrong not to get something for my money, and I could use the knife as a tool to cut things.”
“Cut what things?”
“I don't know. Things. Forget about the knife, Jason.” Tsaeris finished his ale, and signaled to the barmaid to bring them both another tankard.
“Have you ever left the District, Tsaeris?” Jason asked suddenly.
Tsaeris shook his head. “Nah. Why bother?”
“Well, there is a lot more money to be made in other districts. Merchants and other rich assholes, just waiting to have their purses cut.”
“Don't be an idiot, Jason. You think it would be that easy? Just walk into one of the rich districts, and we'll be rich ourselves within a day or so? There's a reason kids like us stay right where we are.” Tsaeris stared into his tankard of ale, tiring of Jason’s company already.
“It might not be as bad as you think. It might be easy.”
“Easy?” Tsaeris was getting irritated. “Forget that the Watch is walking the rich districts in full force. The rich districts are where all the thieves’ guilds are. If we started working in those areas, one of three things would happen. We would be arrested, killed for working without permission, or forced to work for one of the guilds. To hell with that that. I'll keep my slim pickings and my freedom, thank you.”
“I'm not saying relocate, Tsaeris. What if we went just for a few days? Find a big score, do it and get out. Come back to Darson, and live for months or even a year off of the spoils. If we were quick and quiet, nobody would know who we were.”
“If it were that easy, there wouldn’t be any street kids.” Tsaeris took another pull of his ale.
“I don’t know about that. I bet a lot of the other kids are just happy to survive another day. And besides, who’s to say that it never happens? There are street kids in every district. I’m sure a few have pulled this off, and probably got away with it.”
Tsaeris was about to shoot the idea down again, but a thought struck him. Why not? The two of them were nobodies. If they got in, and out, who would come after them? Their lack of status or connections made them as good as invisible, at least for a short time. He shook his head suddenly.
“Why are you even talking about this with me, Jason?”
“Been thinking about doing this for a while. Decided I was going to do it, but I need one more to come with me. And who better than you, Tsaeris? Of all the other street kids, you're the one least likely to just stab me in the back after we're done.”
“Why do you need another kid? Somebody to leave behind to take the fall, if you get caught?” Tsaeris asked, suspiciously.
“No. The truth? I want the luck, and that only comes with you. I promise I won’t screw you over. And we both know that if we get caught, it’s every man for himself. Does having the other there give one of
us a better chance to escape? Sure. But there’s no way of telling which one of us it will be, right?”
“Jason...”
“Look, don't decide now. I leave in three days. Think about it. If you're in, meet me here on the third night.” Jason seemed so sure of himself.
“Which district?” Tsaeris asked, but he was afraid he already knew the answer.
“Market.” His eyes locked on Tsaeris.
Tsaeris sighed. Market district. Of course it was.
***
The Market district was the trading center of the entire city. The harbor was attached to the district, as were the main city gates, and the district offered the only exit to the royal highway. Market, as the people called it, had never been ruled by a noble. It was always considered neutral territory. Anyone was welcome in Market.
Gold flowed through Market like the lifeblood of the city, and it was there that men made their fortunes. Market was more than just stalls, shops, inns and brothels. People lived in Market, and to live there was a sign of success. Even the homeless people were said to seem somehow more dignified than in other districts.
Tsaeris had never been to Market, but he had heard many stories. From honest people, he heard tales of the extravagant shops selling exotic items, of bakeries with the finest breads, smiths with the finest weapons, and taverns with the finest ale. From the not so honest people, he heard tales of gangs, thieves’ guilds, and an even more mysterious organization that seemed to control it all. They also spoke of Gravelock, but that name was a city wide myth as far as Tsaeris could tell.
Gravelock. Some said he was the God of thieves, beggars and whores. Others said he was a gangster who secretly controlled everything that happened in the city. And still, some thought that he was a monster that lurked in the sewers, waiting to feed on helpless thieves who broke some fictional code of honor. Most people thought it was just a superstition, a name to explain the unexplained. Tsaeris considered himself a member of that camp.
No, it was the gangs and The City Watch that made Tsaeris nervous about a trip to Market, not some silly myth. The thieves’ guilds of Market did not tolerate freelance thieves and pickpockets. They would either kill or enlist anyone working in their territory. If you were enlisted, you were only allowed a very small cut of whatever you stole which meant working harder.
Darson district was poor, but safer. The night streets may be deathtraps to the unwary street kid, but he never had to worry about guilds or the Watch. The dangers he faced were worth his freedom, and he was used to it. It was a comfortable danger.
Tsaeris considered the journey. It would take two days to get there, and he would be completely out of his element. He didn't know the streets, the layout. He had only third party information about the dangers. The idea was intimidating. Was he up to the task?
He would only be in Market for one night. The two days travel should be fairly uneventful. There was a neutral road that ran through the city and connected each district to Market by passing between districts rather than through them. It was necessary to keep the fighting between nobles to a minimum, but it increased travel time greatly. It was heavily patrolled by the Watch, and was confusing to navigate. He saw a map of the Neutral Road once, and it looked like a spider’s web. It was wide and walled in on each side, with a roof making it more of a series of tunnels than an actual road. It was well lit by holes in the roof that let the sunlight in during the day, and by torches lining the walls never more than a foot apart at night. The road was maintained by its own guild, which had members numbering in the thousands. There were hostels at various intersections offering rooms as well as food and drink. He was told that walking the Neutral Road was like walking in a different world. A cold, grey world.
Five days. Two days in the Neutral Road, one day in market, two days back. If he could pull it off, that would mean five days’ work for months of lazy indulgence. Inn beds, ale, and good food. Maybe he could even afford a whore.
He debated with himself for hours, but deep down he knew he had already made his decision. It would be exciting, and the potential payoff was just too tempting.
“I'm in,” Tsaeris said to Jason on the third night.
Jason didn't look surprised. “Alright, good! We leave tomorrow.”
“Let me see the maps,” Tsaeris asked.
“Maps? I don't have any maps.”
Tsaeris stared at Jason, waiting for the boy to admit that he was joking. The admission never came. “You're shitting me. No maps?” Jason shook his head. “Do you know Market so well that you didn't even get a map? And the Neutral Road? Remembered the entire place without ever having been there?”
“Well, there would be signposts in the roads. Won't there?”
“I don't know. Do you want to be two hours in with no map only to find out that there aren't any?”
“Well...no,” Jason said weakly.
“And if we made it to market, where would we go? How would we find our way with no map?” Tsaeris was angry.
“I thought...”
“You thought? Really? Because this whole thing reeks of not thinking.” Tsaeris shook his head. “I just wanted to come along. But you're so stupid that your whole plan was to march into Market and just see what happens?”
Tsaeris was getting even angrier. It was clear that Jason had been posturing, and that this whole expedition would have to be planned and led by Tsaeris. He hadn't wanted to put that much effort into this.
He was committed, though. Now that he had imagined the possibilities, there was no turning back. “Leave tomorrow? That's a joke. We leave when I say we leave. When we have an actual plan. Now get the hell out of here.”
Jason, seeming to sense impending violence, rushed out of the tavern.
Tsaeris sighed. “Now, where the hell am I going to find some maps?”
***
After a day or so of planning and consideration, as well as acquiring some of the things they would need, Tsaeris went to the tavern to tell Jason that it was time to leave. Jason was not there, however, and Tsaeris returned several times that day, each time expecting to find the boy waiting.
When Jason failed to appear on the second day, Tsaeris began to wonder if the stupid boy had left without him. He felt a moment of intense anger at the thought of Jason leaving him behind, and left the tavern to see if he could locate his missing partner.
Tsaeris wandered around Darson, asking some of the beggars and street kids he knew if any had seen Jason. None had. Tsaeris checked the sleeping holes he knew Jason frequented as well as a few other taverns, but there was no sign of the boy.
As the sun began to lower in the sky, Tsaeris sighed heavily. There was one last place he would check before he would find a place to sleep for the night.
Tsaeris crossed the district to the sewage reservoir, where the sewers would empty into a large stinking pool of water. A drain sat at the bottom of the reservoir and the stagnant pool of filth would slowly empty into a larger network of sewers far below, and eventually find its way to the sea. Any buildings in this part of Darson were abandoned and dilapidated, and the smell from the waste in the pool was too much for even the homeless to bear.
Tsaeris stood at the rim of the reservoir, about twenty feet up from the water, and scanned the surface. The reservoir was the place of choice for murderers to dispose of their victims, and Tsaeris could see the remains of several bodies, decayed and bloated, floating in the water.
Tsaeris scanned the water for signs of Jason, but he could tell immediately that there were no fresh corpses visible from where he stood. It was possible that Jason was in there and had sunk to the bottom, but the water seemed shallow today, and he doubted that Jason was in there.
He cursed, frustrated at his lack of success in locating the missing boy. He decided he would just leave for Market by himself, and if he chanced upon Jason along the way, he would give the boy a proper beating.
Tsaeris was just about to leave when he heard a man whistling. Tsaer
is looked around desperately for a place to hide. There were only two buildings close by. One was too far to reach in time; the other was in the direction that the whistling was coming from.
He was just about to make a run for it and hope for the best, when a man appeared from beside the dilapidated wooden structure. He was carrying something over his shoulder. Tsaeris stiffened, ready to bolt at a moment’s notice, but feared that running before any sign of a threat could provoke a chase that might otherwise be avoided. The man didn’t seem interested in him. Nevertheless, Tsaeris had his knife in the palm of his hand, pressed against his wrist.
Tsaeris kept a distance of about fifteen feet between himself and the man, and he knew he could escape if he needed too. The man was large, with more fat than muscle, and Tsaeris was certain he could outrun him. His large round face was covered in a patchy black beard and his head was bald. He grinned at Tsaeris as he passed the boy.
The sun was still high enough in the sky that the area was well lit, though slightly dim, and Tsaeris finally got a good look at the burden on the man’s shoulder. His eyes went cold. It was Jason. His face and hair were covered in blood, and his naked body had been mutilated horribly. It was clear that Jason’s death had not been swift.
Tsaeris didn’t know why, but he felt a sudden rage at what had been done to Jason. Usually Tsaeris could detach himself from the horrors that befell his fellow street kids, but this was different. He knew Jason, and though Tsaeris considered him a tad on the stupid side, he had been a decent enough companion at times.
“Did you know him?” The man asked, grinning, as he lowered Jason’s body to the cobblestone at the rim of the reservoir.
“Yeah…” Tsaeris replied, gritting his teeth.
“I knew him in the end. Knew him better than anybody. He was a sweet kid.” The hideous grin never left the man’s face.
After taking a moment to catch his breath, the man dragged Jason to the edge of the reservoir and, with some effort, pushed the body over the side.
As Tsaeris watched Jason’s naked body slide down the grimy stone wall of the reservoir and into the foul pool, his rage exploded into a white hot fury. Before the man could recover from the effort of disposing of the body, Tsaeris ran at his back, drawing his second knife in his left hand, and began stabbing him over and over again. The man cried out, bleeding from half a dozen wounds in his back and neck. The man spun to face Tsaeris, but the boy’s fury had not yet played out, and the man could do nothing but beg as the flurry of slashes and stabs weakened him with pain and blood loss.
