by Justin Wayne
***
The hobbit raced past the sea of legs, ducking under crates being carried and weapons slung on belts, as he ditched the guards pursuing him. His large feet padded noiselessly on the cobblestone among the roar of the crowd, his breathing still steady and grip firm on his latest treasure. He couldn’t believe his luck.
“Who would’ve thought that, Thomulus, a meager pickpocket, would find such a wonder?” He laughed aloud as he turned suddenly into an alley and ducked inside a small apothecary on a street parallel to the one he had just come from, the alley connecting the two like the middle of an H. Thomulus stood against the door and watched from the window for any guards to pass by.
“Can I help you?” A woman asked from behind the counter. Thomulus jumped in surprise and darted out the door before she could get a good look at him, bumping into someone he didn’t even glance at before taking off again. This time he heard footsteps behind him and looked over his shoulder.
A single guard was fast approaching with his sword drawn, the steel glinting in the early morning light. The hobbit knew he couldn’t outrun him for long, and his nimble mind began to search for a way out. Up ahead was another street that curved around in a bend that lead back to the first street that ended with the marketplace he had robbed.
He couldn’t go back that way.
“Just give it up, thief! You’re found out!” the guard cried from behind, closer now. Thomulus began to panic. He couldn’t go to prison again. Too many people would be able to find him there. Those he had wronged in the past that could add on charges or just pay his bail to kill him themselves. He shuddered at the thought. He spun around the curve and began to swerve in and out of groups of people, gaining ground away from the full sized man giving chase.
At last he broke line of sight and dove headfirst into a hay bale, praying the guard wouldn’t notice his left foot poking out. Luck was on the halfling’s side yet again however and he remained unnoticed for several minutes until he deemed the area safe. He cautiously slipped out and brushed away the strands of hay and dust from his clothes.
“Ah, Thom, you old genius. You’ve done it again!” he applauded himself as he strode through town with a bounce in his step; a bounce that was quickly cut short as he saw the detail of guards on post at every alleyway entrance and conjoining streets. The thief’s mind quickly sought an alternate route to his fence. He turned on his heel and hurried through the crowds until the part of town still under construction surrounded him. He clambered up the wooden boards that made up the frame of a soon-to-be house until he was even with the shop beside it, and leaped onto it. His thick feet absorbed the impact and caught great traction on the thatched rooftops as he made his way from building to building.
His fence’s hideout was in sight; a small hut constructed between three chimneys that were less than a man’s height apart in the shape of a triangle, often hidden by smoke, when a voice called out his name from behind.
He turned slowly and faced a hooded figure who wore such a cloak as to conceal his face and whether or not he was armed. But by the man’s steady gait as he leaped from house to house with ease and without a sound convinced Thomulus that he was no man to be trifled with regardless of weapon.
“I’m here for you, Thomulus of Cain Sander, son of Thomein, on charges of larceny, burglary, grand theft, minor assault, and trespassing. Will you come quietly?” the confident voice announced smoothly. He was well versed and obviously had done this before. Thomulus tried to get a look at his face but only saw darkness with the sun at his back. He eyed the man’s clothing instead, noting the studded leather armor and leggings tanned a dark gray like smoke. Even the stranger’s cloak was like night and seemed to absorb the light around him, concealing his form in shadow.
“How did you find me?” the hobbit asked as he tried to gain the advantage of knowing his enemy.
“You ran into me outside the apothecary shop in your haste.” the man said with a touch of humor. “I didn’t even get an apology.”
Thomulus noted the man was constantly edging closer, step by step, now on the same rooftop. Thom drew his small blade and waved it about threateningly. “Stay back, stranger, unless you’d like a new mouth where your throat is!” The concealed man continued his approach without hesitation.
“Put that away before you get hurt.” the voice said, a hard edge grown into it.
This is a cold man, the thief realized. No more than twenty feet separated them now, and Thomulus was running out of ideas. This man was something new. He had dealt with guards, angry shop keeps, and irate husbands, but this foe was something new.
“Who are you stranger? And why are you after me?”
The man stopped and with a flourish, bowed low. “Allow me to introduce myself.” He stood straight again. “The name is Outsider, and I am here to bring you in to the law of Cain Sander to receive my reward for your imprisonment.”
“You’re a bounty hunter!”
The man nodded once. “Indeed, and I aim to claim that bounty one way or the other. You should keep in mind; the price on your head is the same with or without the aforementioned head.”
Cornered, and out of options, the small thief turned and took a single step when he was thrown off his feet and down below. His scream only lasted a second before he hit.
