Thief: A Fantasy Hardboiled (Ratcatchers Book 2)

by Matthew Colville

  She scowled at the man dressed all in rags sucking smoke before them. “I’m fine,” she said.

  Heden was relieved. Garth was not involved. He straightened up. “What did you tell him?” he tilted his head toward the castellan.

  Vanora shrugged. “What I knew.”

  Heden nodded. “That’s fine,” he said, immensely relieved she was alive. He put a hand around her.

  “I’m sorry I ran,” she said, clinging to his arm.

  Heden nodded. “I’m sorry I asked you to stay.” Expecting her to stay, the same girl who opened his inn to pass the time while she waited for him, was—he realized—absurd.

  “She can go,” the castellan said. “Don’t reckon she’s got anything to do with this. But you two may spend the rest of your lives here.”

  “This man just saved your ass,” Aimsley said to the castellan. “Count and Garth doing their dirty work right here, and you too stupid to see it.

  The castellan didn’t ignore him, but directed his response to Heden. “You should have come to me,” he said. “You come to me, your man here,” he nudged Domnal’s body with the toe of his boot, “would still be alive.”

  Heden frowned, released Vanora who took a step back. “He’s your man,” he scowled. “Your watch captain. And he came down here with us knowing he might not make it out alive. Stood up to Garth. To Garth.” Heden put his hand on Solaris. “You will give him the respect he earned,” and the castellan took a step away from Dom’s corpse, “or I will run you through. King’s man or not.”

  The castellan respected Heden’s anger, but did not acknowledge it. Took a drag from his nail, sending smoke curling to the ceiling.

  “Count’s dead,” he said. “Garth free. You think all this,” he glanced at Dom’s corpse, “would have happened, you come and talk to me?”

  “You want to pin this on me?” Heden growled. “You think that’s a good idea? I lost the abbot. Dom. All because you couldn’t see what was happening under your own nose!”

  The ragman considered this.

  “What happens when I go to the king and tell him?” Heden demanded. “What happens when Richard finds out all those people died, a war of thieves, all because you couldn’t keep your house in order? What happens to you?”

  The castellan looked from Heden to the thief.

  “We’re on the same side,” the castellan said to Heden.

  “That’s debatable,” Heden spat. “I stand with the king. With Cavall. Whose council do you keep?”

  The ragman thought some more. He blew smoke out from his nose. Sniffed.

  “Someone goes down for what happened,” he said, but it was tentative. An offer.

  “Might as well be you, from where I stand,” Heden challenged. “The count made the dust here! His whole campaign! It only worked because you were protecting him!”

  “You know how many men I lost to the dust?” the castellan said, getting angry. “You want to trade corpses, see who comes out ahead?”

  “Because you gave Garth the opening!”

  “And you come down here and do my job for me? That’s not justice. That’s you goin’ back to being a ratcatcher. Someone gets sent up for this!” the castellan said.

  “Me,” the polder said.

  Heden turned sharply to look at the polder.

  Aimsley looked up at him. “You said it. I killed the abbot.” The little man shrugged, remembering something Hapax Legomenon told him. “Killed a lot of people. I’ll pay for what I did.”

  Heden considered this. He could not see any other way. Could see no good reason to argue for Aimsley Pinwhistle to walk out of here.

  “You’ll never leave here alive,” Heden said. “You might hang.”

  “I don’t mind,” Aimsley said. He walked over to the cot Vanora had slept on for days. “I’ll sleep at night at least. Be able to live with myself maybe.”

  Heden was impressed at the polder’s decision. Freed of the drink, at least for now, he seemed a different person.

  Heden turned to the castellan. “Justice,” he said.

  “Says you,” the ragman said, peering at the polder, but talking to Heden.

  Heden extended his arm. Vanora ducked under it.

  “We’re leaving,” he said.

  “This ain’t over,” the castellan said as Heden walked out. “Figure I know where you live. But you got a lot to answer for, breaking in here. You had help.”

  Heden and Vanora were already gone.

  “You had help!” the ragman shouted after them.

  Aimsley lay back on the cot, looked at the stone ceiling, and said nothing.

  Chapter Seventy-eight

  Customers waited, most of them patient, when the entire staff flooded around Vanora, surrounded her. The low roar rose and fell as she described what happened and they described what she missed. Heden could tell when they got to the point where the count burned down the Rose, stranding them all here, when Vanora’s hands flew to her face.

  The sound of the girls nattering, relating to each other, being together, was soothing. Heden didn’t mind it.

  Until it stopped.

  The girls were all looking behind Heden. What now? He thought and turned to look.

  Teagan.

  “You got a lot of balls coming in here,” Heden said, no desire to restrain himself.

  The watchman’s face looked red and raw. “I heard what happened,” he said, no inflection in his voice.

  “Did you?” Heden asked. “Did you hear that Dom went down there with us, stood by us, even though he was pissing himself with fear?”

  Teagan said nothing.

  “Bravest man there,” Heden said. “Surrounded by killers and thieves and him the only law. And he didn’t run. Stood up to Garth. Garth. Did you hear that?” Heden barked.

  “I heard,” Teagan said.

  “Would Garth have gotten past you?”

  “I don’t….”

  “Would Garth have gotten past YOU?!” Heden bellowed. The muscles and tendons in his neck and arms, straining. Everyone in the inn, the girls, the customers were silent. Enjoying the show. Better than a bard.

  Teagan looked down. “No.”

  “No he would not! You shit,” he spat. “I asked you for help, you said no.”

  Teagan decided to defend himself. “I thought I should ask…he’s my captain!”

  “He was your captain, now he’s dead. Another one of my friends dead. I was trying to stop that from happening! That’s why I asked you!”

  “What?” Teagan looked at Heden sharply.

  “How long have you been a watchman? An hour? Two? Because if it’s longer than that you’re the stupidest fucking copper I ever met. If you go to your master, he has to deal with it!”

  “He could have given it to…”

  “It’s his fucking job!!” Heden shouted. “He can’t give it to you! It was too important and you should have known that!”

  Teagan stood there, saying nothing, swaying a little.

  “You’re no kind of watchman,” Heden cursed. “You’re a hired thug who hangs around the jail waiting for someone to tell him what to do.”

  Teagan looked back at Heden, hands held loosely at his sides, a worried, pleading look on his face.

  “Get the fuck out of here,” Heden said.

  Without waiting to see what Teagan did, Heden went to the cellar door, opened it, stamped down the stairs, and slammed it behind him

  Chapter Seventy-nine

  Vanora came down a few moments later with a lantern. She’d noticed Heden had gone down without any light. Was just sitting down here in the dark.

  “I’m sorry about your friend,” she said.

  “Which one?” Heden asked, so flatly Vanora couldn’t tell if he was being sorry for himself, or genuinely asking.

  “All of them,” she said.

  “Well you’re alive,” Heden said. “Safe. That worked.”

  “He’s your friend, too,” she said.

  Heden looked
at her. “What, the watchman? He’s an idiot.”

  “And he’s your friend,” she said. “You don’t think he knew what you’d do, when he came to see you? But he came anyway.”

  How long was she with the abbot? Heden wondered.

  “You’re angry,” she said. “So you’re taking it out on him.” On the other hand, the abbot would never have been that direct.

  “No harder on him than I’d have been on me. Dom is dead because of him.”

  “How can you say that?” Vanora asked. “Everything that happened? Garth, the count, the…the elf? You can’t just pick up one piece and replace him with another. Who knows what would have happened if you’d taken the watchman?”

  Heden thought about what she was saying. Probably the same things he’d be saying if the roles were reversed.

  “How’d you get so smart?” Heden asked.

  Vanora looked at the glass dome under which her tutor lay in a pile, awaiting the need. “Mostly it’s the harlequin,” she said.

  Heden nodded. “That worked at least.”

  Vanora walked up to him.

  “Everything worked,” she said quietly. “You saved me, you stopped the count. You saved the polder. Can’t that be enough?”

  She hugged him and put the lantern down so he’d have light.

  “It has to be enough,” she said, and then went back upstairs.

  Chapter Eighty

  Heden closed the place early, nursed a drink in the middle of the common room while the fire burned in the hearth. The girls were upstairs. He could hear them playing around. Reverting to being youngsters again at the end of the day. He had no idea how they did it.

  The door opened and in the dark outside, it wasn’t clear to Heden who was standing in it. It could have been Garth. He tensed, but without need.

  Teagan walked in.

  “Get out,” Heden said automatically.

  The watchman ignored him. Walked up to the fire. Stood there in profile while they both watched the flame dance.

  Heden took a drink.

  The tall, thin watchmen pulled something out of a vest pocket, looked at it in his hand. It glinted in the firelight.

  It was the king’s coin. The copper coin all watchmen carried. The copper that gave them their nickname.

  “Ratcatcher for seven years,” the watchmen said. “Never gave a shit. Was easy. Then I met someone and…and found out I wanted more than just crawling around underground. Trying to get rich.”

  Heden once found quite a lot of meaning as an itinerant campaigner, but said nothing.

  “Became a copper. I liked that,” he said nodding. “Felt useful. Some of the boys…they talk like…like we don’t matter. Always be more thieves, more murderers. That’s why I liked it. A never ending supply of meaning, every man locked up.”

  He stopped looking at the coin, and gazed into the fire. After a few silent moments, he threw the king’s coin onto the fire.

  “You come back here, asking for forgiveness,” Heden said. “I’ve got none to give. Not now. Not for a while. Too many dead friends.”

  “Time to make new friends,” the watchman said, without much feeling. Watched the coin as the fire heated it.

  “My friend wouldn’t have dropped the job on Dom,” Heden said. “A job he knew Dom couldn’t do. You’re not my friend. I don’t know what you are.”

  “I’m a thug,” Teagan said dully. “Waiting for someone to tell me what to do.”

  Heden stared at him as the former watchman looked at the fire. Heden looked at the fire. Thought about what throwing away the king’s coin meant.

  “You want to stay angry, that’s fine.” Teagan said. “Stay angry. At Garth. And let’s find him.”

  “You and me?” Heden said, his voice dripping with disgust.

  “What, the polder’s good enough for you, but I’m not?” Teagan asked.

  He thought about what Vanora said. About what the abbot would have said.

  Heden stood up and looked at the watchman. Thought about what it took to come back here a second time, knowing the mood Heden was in.

  “You remember what I said to you, back at the Rose? When the count’s men first took Vanora back?”

  Teagan nodded. “In for a copper,” he said, staring at his badge of station melting in the fire.

  “In for a crown,” Heden said. Maybe there was some forgiveness left in him. Maybe a man really was better than the worst thing he’d ever done.

  “First thing, we go back to the citadel,” Heden said.

  “Alright,” Teagan said dully. “Why?”

  “We need help against Garth. Garth has friends, we need friends. We’re going to spring the thief.”

  “You just put him away,” Teagan said.

  “Well,” Heden said, “maybe I’ll talk to the castellan first. Borrow him for a while, instead of steal him.”

  “Alright,” Teagan said

  “Then we find Garth,” Heden said.

  “And then what?” Teagan asked. “Bring him back to the ragman? Stick him in the citadel? Stand him before the magistrate?”

  “No,” Heden said. “No we’re not going to arrest him. You’re not a copper anymore.”

  “Good,” Teagan said. He could no longer see the coin. It had melted away.

  “I’m sorry about Dom,” Heden said. “He was your captain, but he was my friend.”

  Teagan shook his head. “You don’t understand,” he said. “I went to Dom because I wanted him to approve. Of me. He was my friend, too. He didn’t care about…,” he shook his head, “anything. Just wanted to look out for us. Make sure everyone got home at the end of the day, after running down murderers and thieves and spending all day locked up with them.

  “He was my friend,” he said. “He looked out for me. Only thing I wanted was to impress him. And now he’s dead.”

  “And Garth killed him,” Heden said. “Garth may be the greatest swordsman alive.”

  “Tricks,” Teagan said, looking at Heden from the corners of his eyes. “Not the same as skill.”

  “That can’t be all there is,” Heden warned. “It can’t just be skill against skill.”

  “There is something more,” Teagan said, and turned away from the fire.

  “What?”

  Teagan drew his sword and looked at Heden, silhouetted by the fire behind him.

  “Revenge,” he said.

  …Ratcatchers continues in Volume Three…

  Fighter

  Epilogue

  “He what?”

  “He freed a star elf from the citadel.”

  “He freed a…,” the king was having a hard time putting these facts in order. He stopped pacing around the Godblind. Focused on first principles, like his father taught him.

  “Why was there a star elf in the castellan’s fortress?”

  “The count bound it there. Its blood provided the source of the night dust. The count found a way to operate inside the citadel without anyone detecting him. Heden cracked it.”

  Gwiddon felt it important to give credit where it was due, but the king’s mind had already leapt ahead. Past the castellan’s failing to the real issue.

  “How did the count get a hold of a star elf? How did he…there’s no way,” the king sped to the proper conclusion. Once again, Gwiddon felt relief that his master’s intellect matched his character. “There’s no possible way the count has access to that kind of power. Someone got it for him. Someone set him up.”

  Gwiddon remained silent.

  “So this whole operation, the count, the night dust, his attempt to become the Shadow King, all that was orchestrated by someone else.”

  Gwiddon’s silence stretched on. The king didn’t need his input anyway.

  King Richard looked at his Spymaster and Master of Assassins. “We pulled the Circle away from Ansalon.”

  Gwiddon nodded. “With the Hart looking for the count, recalling the Knights of the Mirror Circle was the right thing to do. Everyone agreed, your highne
ss.”

  “By Cavall,” The king said. His breath was taken away by the scope of the operation. “How long would it take to send them back?”

  “Ignis could contact them within the hour. It would take longer to compose the message than send it. But…three days for them to return to the tower on horse.”

  “Three days out, three days back.” The king took a deep breath.

  “We’ve lost the tower, haven’t we?” he asked.

  Gwiddon cut to the chase. It was difficult watching his king, the man he admired most in the world, deal with this series of blows. Better to get to the end.

  “My lord it’s possible this is all coincidence, but I consider it unlikely. I think Cathe and Ignis would agree. We must assume Baed was waiting for the Circle to be withdrawn. We must assume the Tower at Ansalon is fallen to Duke Baed, and Baed now controls the Oracle.”

  “He’s going to take Aendrim.”

  “Forgive me, my lord, but I feel compelled to tell you; your obsession with Aendrim is blinding you to the larger point.”

  “My obsession?” The king challenged. “Edmund was my cousin! We went to school together! Aendrim is mine by right.”

  “My lord it’s time we face the reality that Duke Baed is not acting alone. It could not have been he who gave the count a star elf, or the power to bind it. In my opinion there is only one man in all Orden with that power, now that the Church of Adun has fallen.”

  This brought the king up short. His spymaster was right. He had missed the larger point.

  “Conmonoc,” he said.

  “My lord, I don’t believe Duke Baed intends to install himself as King of Aendrim.”

  “No,” the king said, shaking his head but agreeing.

  “The duke was never an ambitious man.”

  “No,” the king agreed.

  “But pious,” Gwiddon said.

  “Yes.” The king locked eyes with Gwiddon.

  “Richard,” Gwiddon dared, “I believe Bishop Conmonoc gave Duke Baed the power to bind a star elf. He had the duke deliver the captured being into the count’s hands. I believe he did it to disrupt the balance of power in the city and force you to recall the Knights of the Mirror Circle, which you did, thereby affecting transfer of the Tower and the Oracle to Duke Baed, whom I now believe to be acting on the bishop’s behalf.”