by Jake Kerr
The Burning City
Jake Kerr
Contents
1. Flames & Smoke
2. Under the Tower
3. A Good Omen
4. Glorious Flames
5. A Council of Thieves
6. Dragon Road
7. The Failed Mission
8. Flames Along the Throughway
9. A Dagger Thrown
10. Prisoners & Plans
11. A Walk Through the City
12. A Slap
13. Messengers
14. Magic
15. “Ready to Die?”
16. Our Broken, Burning City
17. A Three-Pronged Challenge
18. A Clear First Step
19. At What Cost?
20. Simple as That
21. A Message in the Streets
22. The Woodlands
23. A Familiar Ranger
24. Greeting the Refugees
25. Pietro’s Books
26. The Apprentice
27. A Guard Discovered
28. New Colors
29. The Deputy and the Blade
30. The Assassin
31. A Surprising and Important Development
32. A History Revealed
33. A Plan Revealed
34. Executioners Hollow
35. Family Matters
36. Ten Families
37. Down the Path
38. A New Mission
39. The Guildmaster Ranger
40. The Guildmaster Magic
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Copyright © 2016 by Jake Kerr
All rights reserved.
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No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
an imprint of Shirtsleeve Press
Dallas, Texas
For Edgar Rice Burroughs
1
Flames & Smoke
As if things couldn't get more complicated for Rogers in his new position as the Captain of the Flats, another klaxon rang out in the distance. "Good gods, that's coming from the Lower Triangle!" Rogers turned to Maas, his Deputy Captain. "How many fires in the Flats now?"
"Four major ones. Grell House is destroyed, two blocks near the Great River are burning but under control, and--" He nodded to the flames burning a short distance away. "--It doesn't look good for Ironside estate."
"How many minor ones?"
"I don't know. A lot."
Rogers wiped his face with his sleeve. He was covered in soot, sweat, and burns after doing whatever he could to help battle the fires. He could see the tendrils of the flames from the Ironside estate reaching far into the sky in the distance, lighting the city in a devilish orange glow. Four fires in one night was unprecedented, but more fires than that? And now fires in the Lower Triangle? Rogers knew it wasn't random.
"Maas, this is important, tell me what you know about the blocks burning near the river."
Maas shrugged. He, too, was covered in soot. The Thieves did what they could to fight the flames, in their role as secret protectors of the downtrodden of Ness. "Well, the one near the gate destroyed one of our safe houses." He shrugged. "They both were green, if that matters."
They were both green. That meant that the blocks were dominated by Harvest Guild members. "This is not good," Rogers muttered. He turned to Maas. "The fire in the Lower Triangle. Have your fastest thief run there and and find out where it burns. Then have him meet me at Ironsides with his report."
Starting toward the Ironside estate, Rogers yelled back. "Maas, have as many of our men meet me at Ironsides as you can."
As he strode through the midst of a burning city, Rogers tried to understand what was going on. The fires were all in Harvest Guild homes. The Grell family lived in a mishmash of wooden townhomes that had expanded over the decades as the Grell family grew. They eventually took over nearly an entire block. But, more importantly, the Grell family was one of the most influential Harvest Guild families in Ness, and their crooked estate in the Flats was a landmark. The fire had destroyed everything.
The only family more important in the Flats than the Grells in the Harvest Guild was the Ironside family. They were synonymous with the mines far in the mountains. They had a home inside the mines, where they were known for their brilliance at finding iron ore veins, but their family seat was a large building that looked like it would have been more at home in the Upper Triangle than the Flats.
The Ironsides were wealthy, important, and dominated the Flats. Even the Merchant and Knight guild members who lived in the Flats understood the special role the Ironsides played.
And now their estate was burning to the ground.
He didn't know what he was looking for, but he knew something was amiss. The fires were clearly set on purpose, and he was certain that the Harvest Guild was a target. There was no other possibility that made sense. But why? He walked up to the Ironside mansion just as a section of wall crashed, throwing sparks into the air. The smell of smoke was overwhelming.
The Ironside family was large, and a number of them were crowded together watching the flames consume their home. Neighbors and friends came up, hugged them, patted them on the back, and did whatever they could to express sympathy. The crowds were thick, but the road was empty as Fire Protectors and wagons were coming and going, fighting a fire that Rogers saw was a lost cause.
Several Thief guild members arrived and stealthily stood by, waiting for the word from their Captain. Rogers just watched. Something isn't right, he thought. But what?
A few Merchant wagons arrived, and Rogers watched as some Merchant guild guards wrapped Ironside family members in blankets and escorted them to the wagons, presumably to take them to shelter for the night. As they started to pull away, Rogers turned to one of his men and barked, "You, follow that wagon. Let me know where they take them." A young man sprinted three steps and then melted into the crowd.
The tendrils of flames from the buildings rose high into the air, giving the entire area an unholy glow. The Fire Protectors did a good job containing the fire, but it was too strong for them to do more than watch its hunger at consuming the mansion.
"Did anyone see the fires in the early stages?" Rogers asked.
"I did, sir." It was a young apprentice. He looked about Ralan's age, and Rogers had to force himself from frowning. He still could not believe that a child delinquent was his new guildmaster.
"Which fire and how did it spread so fast? Weren't the Fire Protectors effective?" The Fire Protectors were part of the Knight Guild, and their job was to fight and control fires. They seemed to be doing a good job of the latter but not so much of the former.
"The Fire Protectors arrived too late to stop the flames, sir."
"Which fire," Rogers snapped.
"The one near the Four Triangles."
"More oddness," Rogers whispered to himself. Any fire near the Four Triangles would have been near both the river, River Road, and the Knight Guild. The Fire Protectors should have been there quickly, if not immediately.
There was a scuffle in the distance, and Rogers watched as two Ironside family members were struggling with two Merchant guardsmen. "Stay here and keep an eye out. Let me know if you see anything strange," Rogers said, as he moved toward the disturbance.
A crowd was
forming, and Rogers could hear a young woman, her voice a mixture of distraught pain and fearful anger. "Unhand me! I will not leave my home!"
Luckily, Rogers' disguise this night was the blue of the Merchant Guild, so he approached the two guards and said, "What is going on?" with a tone of camaraderie, as if he could perhaps help the guards.
One of them looked up from his hold on the woman's arm. "Nothing, guildmate. We are to take the poor family to a safe location while the fire is raging." The man's tone made it clear that no more questions were welcome.
"Where are their Harvest guildmates?" Rogers looked up and down the street, and that's when he realized that the access to the area was blocked by Knight Protectors. In fact, as he looked around he realized that the entire area was swarming with knights. Not Fire Protectors, Knights.
"Yes! I am waiting for my guildmates!" the woman screamed, which led to the Merchant Guard giving Rogers a withering stare. A second guard covered her mouth with his hand and roughly dragged her to the wagon.
"She is distraught," the guard who had been speaking said. "Now go!" He said the command to Rogers, but it was clearly meant for everyone. The crowd dispersed as the last of the Ironside family was led away in a Merchant Guild wagon.
Making his way back to the other thieves, Rogers took stock of the night. Harvest Guild members were being targeted with fires. The Fire Protectors were slow to help. In fact, they apparently didn't help at all other than make sure nothing else burned. The Merchant Guild was forcibly taking the top Harvest Guild families somewhere, presumably to safety but possibly something more nefarious.
"Okay, everyone." Rogers looked over his fellow Thieves, all dressed in the white, green, and yellow of the other guilds that they used for cover. "You three, go to the fire near the Four Triangles. Ask around about Merchant wagons and citizens who were displaced. If they are still there, ask them what happened. If they are gone find out where they went." He turned to another group. "Same for you three, only go to the other fire. And you two, go to Grell House. See if any of the family is there. Ask them about the Fire Protector response. We would expect it to be aggressive for a landmark like Grell House." They all stared at Rogers. "Something is happening, and we need to find out what."
As the guildmembers ran to fulfill their missions, Rogers focused on the alarms coming from the Lower Triangle. He had been captain of the Lower Triangle for a long time, and that was his home. He wondered what was happening there. The Flats was his new assignment, with Maela off on her mission as the Blade of the Guildmaster. He hoped that none of his friends were hurt or lost homes.
An hour later, a young man, breathing heavily, nearly stumbled into Rogers as he approached. Gasping for breath, the young man leaned over, his palms on his knees. "Captain..." Rogers waited patiently. "The Green Belt burns!"
Rogers closed his eyes. The Green Belt was a three block stretch in the Lower Triangle where Harvest Guild families lived. It didn't house all of the Harvest Guild members, but the most important families lived on one of the blocks, their homes a centerpiece of the Harvest Guild outside of the Harvest District itself.
Rogers looked around at the slowly fading orange glow diffused across the night sky. "Maas!"
"Yes, sir."
"I don't care how you do it, but I want you to find out who set these fires. These were not an accident. I also want a report on where all the displaced families are."
"Yes, sir. We already have people in the field."
"Good." Rogers sighed. Someone was targeting the Harvest Guild, and with the appearance of blue wagons, he had a good idea who. The more important question was why?
2
Under the Tower
The screech of the iron door wasn't loud, yet it pierced Vesper's skull enough to give him a sudden headache. The silence in the Thief dungeon had been absolute. There were no drips of water. No scurrying animals. No creaking wood. Not even the moans of other prisoners. Just terrifying silence.
Standing up, Vesper prepared to meet Alard and the Guildmaster Thief. Could Ralan actually be the Guildmaster of this mysterious guild? Vesper thought. He doubted it. He'd seen the guards, the invisible and potent defenses near the Great Bridge, and the work being done at the edge of the Ash Fields. Who in their right mind would trust that to the miscreant boy Ralan?
The words "here is the Blade, Guildmaster" preceded an approaching glow. Vesper stood at attention, his hands clasped behind his back, as two figures appeared. Alard waved a hand toward Vesper. Walking next to him was Ralan, wearing typical Guildmaster garb with the stark exception of it being jet black.
Stopping in front of the bars, Ralan nodded at Vesper. "What's your name?"
"Vesper." Not knowing how this conversation could go and well aware that Alard could kill him in an instant at the word of his Guildmaster, Vesper decided to take great care in his responses.
"You are the Blade of the Guildmaster Craft."
It was a statement not a question, but Vesper answered anyway. He had already admitted as much to Alard, and starting with an obvious and yet difficult truth would go a long way toward eventually slipping past a subtle lie. "I am."
Ralan nodded. "Why did you cross the river?"
Vesper thought long and hard. He had told Alard he wouldn't answer any more questions without assurance of him coming to no harm. Could he make the same demand of Ralan? Alard seemed curious, whereas Ralan was inscrutable, standing there staring at him. He decided to share another dangerous truth for the simple reason that practically everything that would follow would be a lie.
"I was on a mission to assassinate you."
Ralan's only response was to nod his head slightly. Alard stood still, his hood covering his face and hiding his response. "You do realize that admitting this has sealed your death warrant?"
"I am more valuable alive than dead," Vesper replied, keeping his voice calm despite the threat he just heard.
"Doubtful. But I'm listening." Ralan smiled, and Vesper saw worlds in that smile. It was the smile of someone who was utterly confident in his position, who knew his power and where he stood, and the smile of someone who would not be easily intimidated.
"I will tell no more unless you guarantee my safety."
"Ah, now this is interesting, is it not, Deputy?" Ralan turned to Alard, ignoring Vesper's presence. "The prisoner has information to save his life and yet to give us this information we must promise to spare his life. I daresay that's a dubious claim."
"Indeed, Guildmaster."
Vesper, who had spent his life with an extraordinary mastery over his nerves and a focus that allowed him to do both amazing and unspeakable things, stammered, "I misspoke."
Ralan turned to Vesper. "Go on."
I will embrace a new plan, Vesper decided. "I will tell you everything, and will demand nothing in return but some questions answered, for you are correct--I am in no position to demand anything. But I hope that you will hear the truth in my words, and the sincerity in my heart as I conclude my comments." Ralan said nothing. "Will you at least promise to be open to what I offer."
"That I can do. Ask your questions, and I promise whatever offer or ideas that you present to me I will consider with an open mind."
Vesper then outlined everything. From his belief that the Merchant Blade killed Guildmaster Pietro, that Orion was working with Larsen to create an emperor of Ness, and that Orion was playing Larsen for the fool that he was.
"Wait, are you telling me that Orion has been pretending to be dim-witted and oblivious this whole time, and that his goal is to assassinate Larsen at some point and to take over as leader of Ness?"
"It is so."
"You expect me to believe that? Orion is a lovable oaf!"
"Orion is the most dangerous man in Ness," Vesper said.
"But if he was waiting for Larsen, why were you here trying to assassinate me?" Ralan seemed utterly transfixed by Vesper's story.
"Orion feels Larsen is ineffective and inept. I was to make Lar
sen's job easier by killing you and dumping your body on the banks of the Great River."
Ralan laughed. "You say that with such a straight face! How can I not trust your words when you speak them directly to me?" Turning to Alard, he asked, "What do you think, Deputy?"
"I never considered Orion as stupid as others have, but these words still surprise me. That said, I believe him."
Turning back to Vesper, Ralan said, "So there you go. We believe you, Blade. So what are your questions and what is this offer you have? It must truly be miraculous after hearing you are on a mission to kill me!"
"What is the Thieves Guild? What is your mission?" Vesper didn't have to fake the sincerity in his voice.
Ralan paused, as if considering his words, and then replied, "We are the largest guild in Ness. We stand alone and yet are part of every other guild. We live behind the scenes to provide shelter and food for those that are overlooked by their own guilds, even as we are hunted and killed for doing so." After a short pause, Ralan stated, an almost regal confidence in his voice, "We take so we can give."
"I don't understand," Vesper replied.
Ralan looked at Alard, who spoke up, his deep voice seemingly penetrating the rock itself with its resonance. "Every guild has its lowest members. We take care of them because their own guilds do not."
Vesper did not believe this. He had never heard of a guild turning its back on its own members. "That is false. Guilds take care of their own."
"Blade, your own guild includes those that repair the sewers under Ness. Correct?"
Vesper did not know this, but repairs of buildings and equipment were the Craft Guild responsibility. "I assume so."
"Do you know where those that clean the sewers live?"
He was going to answer the Flats, but he knew the answer was the Wretched Quarter. While most of those that crossed the Great Bridge to work were dirty Harvest Guild members, he knew that some of his own guild members lived in the Wretched Quarter, as well. "Across the bridge," Vesper replied.
