Exploitable Weaknesses

by Brian Keller

  Loryn had killed the man at the door while he’d been attempting to stand. She’d been the one closest to the hinges as they’d pushed against the door, so she’d been the last to enter. She shook some of the water from her cloak and glared at Naro in an accusing manner. Kinsman looked from one to the other, waiting to hear about whatever had made Loryn angry. Naro mumbled, “Sorry.” Loryn huffed, then saw Kinsman’s inquiring look and explained, “He pushed me. I was trying to get up and into the room, and he pushed me back.” Naro’s voice was almost a whine, “I was trying to push against the door – so I could get in quick. But it was Loryn that I ended up pushing.” He faced Loryn again and spoke earnestly, “Sorry.” Then he pointed at the body of the man nearest the door and blurted, “But that guy was starting to come away from the wall and I pulled the chair out from under him as I passed him – to give you more time. Doesn’t that count for something?” Kinsman was already turning away. This was not something he needed to get involved with. He told Spen, “Nice work. Good knife placement. Slicing the lung and piercing the heart. Mister Skran’s teaching? Or Utsef’s?” Spen thought for just a moment and replied, “Both, I suppose. Mister Skran taught it, Utsef taught me ‘why’.” Kinsman glanced around the bigger room and pointed Loryn back to the door, “Let everyone outside know that we’re done in here.” Then he told Spen and Naro, “No more than a few minutes. Look around. Dump any drugs. Save the glassware, chemicals and components. We’ll come back for it later. Miss Camilla can decide what she wants to keep.” He looked around near him and added, “Oh! And save any papers. We’ll collect them later as well.” It took longer to identify the drugs and dump them out than it did to separate the glassware but in less than ten minutes, they were back outside in the rain and walking north, their bows over their shoulders.

  They paused before reaching the Bridges, just long enough to report to the Wharfsiders posted there. Rukle shouted to one of them, “We’re done south of the river. Move your people north. We’re going to the warehouses now, starting from the west and working our way east. Just like Kinsman explained it.” The Wharfsider nodded vigorously, “I’ll get word to the boats so they know to move.” The man paused and added, “Does it seem to be getting worse out here?” Rain was streaming down the man’s hood. The windblown water obscuring the man’s features even more than the darkness could have. Rukle raised his hands in an exaggerated shrug and answered, “Doesn’t matter. We’re not stopping now.”

  As they stepped onto the North Bridge, three men of the City Watch positioned themselves as if to block their passage. The Guild members fanned out as Kinsman stepped forward. One of the guards shouted, “We’re not supposed to let you people pass. In fact, we’ve got standing orders to arrest you, or kill you if you resist.” Cooper glanced behind him to verify how everyone was positioned then slowly reached across to his left hip to draw a pouch from his belt. He displayed the pouch and stepped forward to take the hand of the guard who’d spoken, placed the pouch in the man's hand and closed his fingers around it. Kinsman leaned closer to speak, but called out loud enough for the other two to hear him, “Believe it or not, we’re working for the city tonight, with the Prince’s blessing. There’s more than thirty silver coins in that pouch. There’ll also be a dozens of bodies on the ground and in the bay by morning. You’ll either accept my word and the coin, or we’ll dump you off the bridge. I'd imagine it's nearly impossible to swim in all that armor. We’re crossing this bridge.” Kinsman stepped away to give the men time to consider. Rukle took a step forward, clenching and relaxing his fists. The guards stepped aside.

  The closest warehouse was well south of the Ruins, on the Waterfront side of the boundary with Batter’s Field. This warehouse was leased recently and would’ve likely been overlooked had it not been for some information provided by several neighborhood House kids. Locals help each other put their houses back together every time a storm blows through. With that kind of neighborly bond, newcomers to an area get scrutinized closely. This warehouse was evidence of the futile intent to expand the drug trade westward. Folks in Batter’s Field didn’t have the coin to spend on Apex. They barely had coin enough for food or booze. Despite the tendency for many of them to purchase the latter rather than the former, there still was no coin remaining afterward. There had been rumors of Apex actually being given away near this warehouse, in an attempt to create customers. It had been these rumors, along with the location of the warehouse, that had been passed along to the Guild. Apparently they hadn’t been the only ones to hear the rumors. Several addicts had migrated from the Waterfront boardwalk in search of Apex.

  By the time the small group from Guild closed in around the long, single-story structure, four addicts were left behind them, whimpering, bleeding out, as they lay in the dark recesses where they’d been deposited.

  The building was wide enough to allow two wagons side by side within it, but only if there weren’t any boxes or crates lining the walls. Rukle waved Kinsman to him and asked, “Where’s Spen?” He turned and looked for him. Loryn had been close enough to hear and she pointed to the roof of a nearby building. In the rain, it was nearly impossible to see the young man. He gave a brief wave, then climbed down to join them.

  Spen reported, “It’s difficult to tell, but it doesn’t look like there's any roof access. Just the normal doors on the north and south ends, and the main cargo door on the east side.” Naro shook his head, “I don’t like it. The moment we open a door, everyone inside is gonna know it. It’s probably a wide open space in there, filled with crates, or carts, or who-knows-what.” Balat added, “How many do we think might be in there?” Rukle answered, “The kids said there’s usually six or seven. Never fewer than four and no reports of ever being more than ten.” Balat rolled his eyes, “Assuming these kids can actually count.”

  Spen had heard enough, “That isn’t helpful.” He turned to Kinsman, “May I?” Kinsman swept his open hand, palm up, “Please do.” Spen leaned forward so his hood would better shed the rain and spoke, “Two or three of us rush in through either the north or south door, with two archers behind. The two or three fighters defend the archers and we either pick them off, or force them to the other end. A few minutes later, the rest of you burst in from the other end. From that point on, archers pick their shots even more carefully. Our own people could be behind your targets.” He looked to Kinsman for approval. The Assassin’s mouth tightened as he considered, then replied, “It should work. Sounds like you’ve already got people in mind, too.” Spen ducked his head, “Well, yes. You me, and Balat go in from the north. We cover Loryn and Gaff. Naro and Rukle bring the rest of them in through the south door four minutes or so after we split up.” The wind shifted and Kinsman gathered his hood under his chin. He called out to be heard, “Everyone ready?” The five going north stepped to huddle together and the others tucked their heads as they turned. Rukle held up an open hand with fingers spread. At first glance it looked like a wave, then Kinsman realized he was signaling the start of his four minute count.

  Spen took the lead around the corner of the building, then stepped aside while Gaff checked the door. It appeared to have no lock, just a latch. Gaff took his bow off his shoulder, then grasped the latch handle with an exaggerated movement. He then raised the handle and stepped away, pulling the door with him.

  Kinsman, Spen and Naro stepped inside quickly, blades in hand before crossing the threshold. Loryn followed with an arrow nocked, turning sharp left as she entered. Gaff was close behind and turned right before side-stepping to stand behind Naro. There were several crates and boxes along the west wall and a few short rows of stacked crates between the five of them and the center of the building. There were two carts parked just inside the cargo door, and several empty crates lying scattered alongside them. Beside the cart were six very surprised men unloading the last of the crates. They all turned to see who had come in through the door and seemed to reach the same decision. The crate they were unloading fell from the back of
the cart as everyone scrambled to get to the other side, going either around it or over it. They disappeared from sight.

  Kinsman called out, “Archers keep near the walls. Everyone watch for crossbows.” He began creeping forward, shuffling quickly from one stack of crates to the next. Sounds of crates being thrown or shifted could be heard to the south but there were no raised voices shouting orders. Spen must have noticed the same thing, since he called out, “We surprised them, but they’re not acting surprised.” Gaff had climbed up on top of a crate and was trying to peer through the darkness, past the cart, “I don’t see anyone, but no one has gone near either of the other doors.” Kinsman wondered if the men were trying to make a fortress from crates, and expected to feel or hear crossbow bolts flying at them from across the building. He began to move more quickly from one protected position to another. He called out, “If they’re trying to build a barricade out of crates, we need to force them to stay behind it. He drew his bow from his shoulder and nocked an arrow. Spen and Balat did the same. They spread out as they reached the cart and everyone stopped to look and listen. There was a cluster of crates, mostly two layers but stacked three crates high in some places. The crates nearly reached the rafters in those spots, but no one had climbed any of them, he was almost sure of it. Kinsman was waving Loryn around one of the sides and was sneaking around her side of the cart when the door to the south burst open. Kinsman called out, “Watch the piles of crates in the center!” Knowing the sudden rush of people from the south would cause a distraction, Kinsman sprinted around the cart and ducked behind the nearest of the crates. Spen had done the same, but from the other side of the cart. They were listening intently when Rukle’s voice almost caused them to jump. He was standing just on the other side of the pile! Rukle shouted, “What were you shouting about the crates? There’s nobody here!” Kinsman stepped back and kicked the nearest crate, thinking there might be someone concealed inside, poised to attack. He called out, “Watch the crates. There are at least six men in here. They’re hiding somewhere.” Rukle peered around the side of one of the stacks, “You’d have to be one’a those caravan entertainer bendy people to fit into some of these boxes.” Two of the men rescued from the quarry chuckled out loud in response to Rukle’s observation. Spen called out, “I’m not the only one who heard them shifting crates and boxes, right?” Gaff answered, “Nope. I heard it, too.” Loryn added, “Me too.” Naro and Kinsman only nodded their agreement. The assembled group split into two’s and three’s and began inspecting crates large enough to conceal a man. After shifting several of them Loryn hissed and everyone stopped and looked at her. She stepped back from the huge crate she was inspecting and spoke in a powerfully forced whisper, “Not in. Under.” Kinsman stepped around the crates between them to stand beside her. She had knelt down beside the crate but she pointed to the top edge. There were hinges connecting the side of the crate to the top. Balat pointed a fully drawn bow at the space next to her as she lifted the side to reveal a trapdoor in the floor. Rukle leaned around to look past her and scratched his head, “If that’s a tunnel, they’re looong gone.” Kinsman held a finger to his lips and backed away, waving for everyone nearby to join him. He whispered, loudly enough to be heard over the wind whipping in through both doors, “That can’t be a tunnel.” He said it with more conviction than he felt. He continued, “A cellar of some kind, that’s gotta be all it is.” Rukle raised an eyebrow, “You’re probably right, but who’s gonna lift the door and check? If it’s a cellar, something tells me they’re not down there throwing dice.”

  Kinsman looked around and decided, “First we pull that crate apart. Then we can open the trapdoor without being exposed. Once we know for sure what we’re faced with, we’ll know what needs to be done.” Under their combined efforts, the crate was dismantled in seconds. Naro and Gaff stood to each side and slowly lifted the door. Once it was open far enough for a sliver of lantern light to find its way through the aperture, a single resounding thunk was heard from the underside of the door. Both Gaff and Naro let go and the door fell shut. Gaff commented, “Someone down there has a crossbow.” Kinsman nodded, “Raise it again, but this time slide a piece of the busted crate under the lip, to hold it open just a little.” Naro squinted, “Are you sure about that?” Kinsman nodded, “Yep. I’m sure.” As they raised the lid, a voice could be heard from the darkness below, “We’ve got a crate full of quarrels down here. Care to take a look?” Kinsman glanced around the warehouse and smiled, “We’ve got a barrel of lamp fuel and two barrels of pitch up here. I’ll send them down to you once we’ve got the lids off… We’ll toss down a lit torch afterward. I know it’s got to be dark down there.” This was followed by several shouts of outrage and disbelief. The voice of the original speaker could be heard above the others, “Alright, alright. Promise to spare us an’ we’ll come up.” Rukle was already smacking the pommel of his dagger against the lid of a barrel labeled “pitch”. He stopped long enough to pass a confused look at Kinsman, “Why should we?” he asked, “We can just burn ‘em and be done. We’ve still got a long night ahead. What are we gonna do with prisoners?” The men from the quarry looked stunned, but no less surprised than Gaff, especially when Kinsman shrugged and replied matter-of-factly, “You’re right. Crack open that barrel of lamp fuel. Once we light it, we’ll put the other barrel of pitch over the door to hold it closed.” Loryn spoke, “But won’t that barrel of pitch fall through once the door catches fire? The whole building could burn.” Rukle and Naro were struggling with the barrel, trying to maneuver it closer to the hatch, two men from the quarry recovered enough from their shock to lend a hand. Kinsman considered Loryn’s concerns and then shook his head, “Even if it does, the fire certainly won’t spread in this weather.” Even though they couldn’t hear the conversation, fear had evidently taken hold of the men concealed below ground. At least one of them could be heard clambering up the ladder. Kinsman quickly drew his bow and took aim at the ledge. The door began to lift and a hand was visible from underneath. The door raised higher and a face appeared from below. Kinsman released the arrow, striking the man’s face just below his left eye. The man fell backward. From the noises below, the body landed on more than one person and likely knocked another from the ladder on its way down. Kinsman nocked a second arrow, “Dump those barrels. We’ve already spent too much time here.” The pitch and kerosene mixed as they flowed down through the hole. The occupants below began to shout. The yelling turned to panicked screams once the lit torch was thrown down. Closing the door muffled the agonizing screams but only those nearest Kinsman heard him mutter at the door, to the men below, “You helped Jarell. The Guild house burned. No one knows how many burned inside with it. You can burn, too.” The men from the quarry looked on with a mix of disbelief and horror. Rukle clapped one of them on his shoulder, startling the man, and asked, “You didn’t think we were simply dropping in to ask them all to just leave town, did you?” Gaff looked troubled but he didn’t speak, though it was obvious he wanted to.

  The entire group remained silent as they left the first warehouse and walked northeast to the next one. For some of them moving silently was just how they were trained, for others their silence was more subdued. In either case, the rain masked the sound of any missteps.

  The second warehouse was handled much more quickly. By the time the Guild members swept through, only two of the eight men from Lukasi had even awakened and they died on their cots with a look of surprise still on their faces.

  *****

  Bennet huddled under an overhang bundled up in some discarded sailcloth. It had been discarded for a reason and it did little to keep him dry but it did manage to shield him considerably from the wind. With the weather, most of the street vendors had closed up early and pushed their carts home. The clients and paying customers had sought shelter as well, either spending their coin inside the shops of permanent storefronts or they’d gone home as well. The result for Bennet was that there were few people on the streets wit
h dangling purses, and next to nothing that would pass for marketable information in lieu of daily House dues. He thought he’d rather spend the night huddled in the rain than accept the obligatory beating that often followed a missed dues payment. He wondered now whether he’d made the right decision.

  He’d spent much of the night awake and shivering, sleeping seldom, and fitfully when he did nod off. He couldn’t be sure what time it was when he was jolted awake by someone passing near him, “People, plural.” He corrected himself once he’d more fully awakened. He watched them as they passed. They were either unaware of him, or simply ignored him. He’d counted five of them before he realized that he recognized at least three of them. The unmistakable red-haired young man was among them. Bennet recognized him first. “Rukle. That’s his name.” Immediately afterward he recognized the quiet one that sometimes accompanied the red-haired one. A few seconds later he saw the one who had killed his former House father, the same one he’d seen on the Waterfront boardwalk, speaking to a Watch patrol. On that occasion, the Watch captured and arrested three men for selling Apex. Now, there was a whole group of them preparing to enter the warehouse across the walkway where he’d attempted to find shelter. Their posture told him that these Guild people weren’t making a social call. He changed his position and worked circulation back into his legs and gradually shifted the sailcloth so he could cast it off in a single motion and not get tangled in it. He waited until everyone was looking at the warehouse and flung the sailcloth from his shoulders as he bolted away. He didn’t turn around and didn’t even take a breath until he’d rounded a corner. He’d ran the length of three buildings before he even took a glance behind him. There was no one there. He ran for two more buildings and turned west, slowing his pace enough to catch his breath. Less than a minute ago he’d been sleeping and now he was at a full run. He wondered whether what he’d just witnessed might be information valuable enough to cover today’s House dues, then he chastised himself as he realized that the information the House kids provided was passed along to the Guild. They’d hardly need to be kept apprised of their own movements. He slowed his pace and began looking for a new spot where he might find shelter from the weather.