"That is what it was supposed to do," Elaine said, her voice stern.
"True," Ambrose allowed. "It is just a shame, that is all. Give it another couple of weeks, perhaps another raid, and we'll likely start bringing the independents back into the fold, wanting a piece of the action."
"Getting the franchises up and running will also have a similar effect," Wendric said. "Everyone knows the value of getting in at the start of a new franchise, and we will effectively be wiping the slate clean. Anyone with a bit of nous will be able to set themselves up for life."
"Competition will be fierce, then," Ambrose said.
"That is no bad thing," Elaine replied. "With competition comes better franchises and a healthier guild."
"So, you all set to conduct another raid against Vos' silver train?" Wendric asked Lucius.
"I would like to," Lucius replied slowly, thinking his plan through as he went. "We should have more support from the other thieves this time around, which is just as well, as this battle will be ten times harder. We'll have to pick a new battleground, and Vos will be prepared this time."
"What is the worst they could do?" Ambrose asked. "They had that armoured wagon last time, and a wizard and we - well, you - took care of them both."
"If I were a Vos commander responsible for the safety of the silver train after an attack like ours, I would escort it with an entire legion," Lucius said.
They fell silent again for a few moments, each considering that possibility.
"So... how would we attack a formation like that?" Ambrose asked.
"I am not sure we can," Lucius admitted. "That said, I'll give it some thought. This is what we need in the guild right now, a real bonanza that shows both Vos and the people of the city that we are not dead and buried. It will bring the thieves crawling out of the woodwork, make us a real power to be respected. From there, we can see if we can bring the Empire around to their old way of thinking - tolerate the presence of the thieves, knowing the alternative is worse."
"Sounds like a plan," Wendric said, evidently glad to have some clear direction to the meeting.
"No," Elaine said, causing Lucius to glance up at her. For the first time since she had been taken by Adrianna, their eyes met. Her glare was cold and empty, and determined. There was little left of the woman he had known before.
"We cannot rely on Lucius' plan," she said with some finality, and Lucius wondered if the reference to his plan was not a slight intended to let the other council members know that his position was no longer as privileged as it had been. "We have to, finally, acknowledge that we are once again at war, this time with a far more powerful enemy than a rival thieves' guild. The simple choice before us is whether to surrender and quit or fight on."
"I'm your man, Elaine," Ambrose said. "Where you lead, I'll follow."
"I think you'll be taking on an enemy that can destroy us all," Wendric said. "But I would never let you do that without me at your side.
Lucius opened his mouth to speak, but Elaine spoke first, not bothering to hear what he had to say.
"Then war it is."
Ambrose whistled quietly, and Wendric cleared his throat.
"So, how do we assemble our forces, and what are our targets?" he asked.
"We continue with our current aims, but on a larger scale," Elaine said. "And we aim them directly into the heart of the Vos presence in the city. In running Turnitia, Vos depends on two things; a continuing flow of silver, and order. We cut off the first, and disrupt the second."
"Agreed," Wendric said. "How far do we go?"
Elaine fixed him with a cool and level gaze. "This is war, Wendric. We hit as hard as we can, as often as we can. Mobilise the cells. Rob the soldiers of their pay, raid the Cathedral, and put the word out that any trader, craftsman or merchant who openly supports Vos is our enemy. Steal their tools, drive their customers away, and burn down their shops, warehouses and homes. Conversely, those willing to help us by providing supplies or safe houses will be rewarded. Let them know that we will look favourably on their support after the war is won too - their neighbours will be paying protection money, but they won't. And if they do not agree, lean on them."
"Done right, we could turn whole districts of the city against the Empire," Ambrose reflected.
"And let it be known that anyone wearing the uniform of a Vos officer is an open target. I'll personally pay a bounty of one hundred silver for a sergeant, and five hundred for anyone of higher rank."
Wendric glanced up at her. "Is that just for thieves, or an open offer to anyone?"
Elaine opened her mouth to answer, then hesitated as she reconsidered.
"That is a good idea, Wendric," she finally said with a grim smile. "Open it to anyone. I don't fancy the chances of an untrained thug trying to claim a sergeant's head, but it will cause a great deal of chaos if mobs start attacking patrols."
"And then we keep up the pressure," Wendric said. "Keep hitting these targets, and the whole will begin to fail."
"That is what you need to arrange. However, if this is going to be successful, then the people giving orders to the soldiers will have to fear us too. It is easy enough to send a patrol of soldiers out into the city to protect the holdings of some rich merchant or break down the door of a suspected safe house, but if we can ensure that the men and women giving those orders can expect reprisals as well, then they might start thinking twice about doing it. Which will lead to more chaos as the Vos military becomes paralysed."
"That is where your assassins will come into play, I am guessing," Ambrose said.
"Of course," Elaine said simply. "And, like the thieves on the streets, we will do it in a way that will not be missed. A massacre of those in command, a message that we can reach anyone, anywhere. And that message will be clear to the successors of those we kill too."
"The only way you will do that," Lucius said, speaking at last, "is to enter the Citadel."
"Naturally. We have done it before."
Lucius shook his head. "The Citadel is better defended than it has ever been. They have far more soldiers, and-"
Elaine interrupted him. "And our assassins have become much better at what they do."
He continued, undaunted. "And they have much better magical support than before."
"You have beaten their wizards already," Ambrose said, frowning. "They do not seem all that much to me."
"All we have met so far are court practitioners and battle mages," Lucius said. "Whom, incidentally, you should not underestimate, Ambrose. However, there is a new force in the city, a cabal of wizards that are skilled at working together, somehow. They are extremely powerful, and capable of pretty much anything."
"How do you know this?" Ambrose asked.
"Oh, Lucius lies in many beds when it comes to magic," Elaine said, and he gave her a sour look in return. "Though for all his skill, it seems there are some mages he cannot best."
Ambrose and Wendric frowned in confusion, wondering at the animosity between the other two.
"That may be true, Elaine," Lucius said, his patience ebbing, "but I can tell you a bunch of assassins, no matter how well-trained, are going to be annihilated if they try to take on this cabal."
"We don't need you."
"He's right," Wendric said. "This is the Citadel we are talking about, not some lonely outpost in the wilds. Even if this cabal is not there, it would be folly to go in without Lucius. I don't pretend to understand what he does or how he does it, but the only time we have ever broken into the Citadel - and out again - was alongside him."
She glared at Wendric. "I would remind you that I am in command of this guild. I decide who does what, and when."
"And I would remind you that, as your lieutenant, it is my role to balance those decisions," Wendric said. "I don't give a damn what is going on between you and Lucius, but it seems to me that he is willing to work with you, and I have worked too hard getting this guild back together to squander anything on a disagreement, whatever its ca
use. If we lose our guildmistress now, that will be the end. The guild will fold, and you do not have the authority to make that decision."
"He's right," Ambrose said, adding his support.
Elaine glanced briefly at the floor, fuming.
"Fine," she said.
The meeting developed into a series of discussions covering the technical details of what they had decided, much to the relief of Wendric and Ambrose. Names were drawn up for specific missions, meeting places agreed and targets decided. It was resolved that decoys would be needed for many of the tasks they hoped to accomplish, in order that the thieves would be able to work without interference from Vos patrols. Ambrose's children would once again have gainful employment.
Finally, Elaine called an end to the meeting and, buoyed with the thought of definite action, Wendric and Ambrose left in high spirits to begin their part in the coming war against Vos. Elaine had been content to watch them leave, but when she saw Lucius had hung back, she stood up abruptly and started for the door. Lucius put a firm hand on the door, holding it closed, and she glared at him.
"Elaine, we need to speak," he said.
"I have nothing to say to you," she spat back. "I sent you out to get us new allies, and instead one of them attacks me - me! - directly."
"I had no idea she would do that! I tried to convince her to join us, but she-"
"Oh, I know well how hard you tried to convince her," Elaine interrupted him. "A difficult and exhausting task, I am sure."
Lucius tried another course.
"Alright, Elaine, have it your way. I know I made mistakes, and I doubt you'll ever appreciate how much I regret what has happened. Either way, you and I can't give a damn about it while we are fighting against the Empire. The consequences of us falling out could hurt too many others."
"Why do you think you are still here in the council?" she asked. "This guild is the most precious thing to me, and I won't let you or anyone else destroy it. So, for now, you stay. And you do as you are told."
She stepped to one side of him and put her hand on the door's handle. Sighing in defeat, he moved away to let her past, but Elaine stayed for a moment longer.
"When this is over, I want you out," she said. "Out of the council, out of the guild, and out of the city. I never want to so much as hear of you again, and you know I have my own ways to make sure that happens."
Elaine opened the door and turned back to him with an expression of disgust.
"I will never trust you again."
Chapter Fifteen
The events of the past few days had come as something of a shock to Elouise. Her affiliation to the thieves' guild had been born out of disaffection with the society into which her family had tried to propel her. Endless lessons in etiquette with alternative Vos and Pontaine influences - whichever her family happened to be trying to impress at the time - watching her tongue against unguarded comments, the fashionable balls, ridiculous clothes, the petty politicking that was all the more vicious because there was no real penalty for failure... the list went on.
So she had become a thief, stealing away when her family was not watching, or when she was supposed to be with some man of "quality" that her parents wanted her to court. Thieves did not ask questions, and were interested only in her abilities which, over time, had grown to some measure of competence.
Elouise had no illusions about becoming some criminal master, but the occasional raids and burglaries she attended under the leadership of senior thieves gave her life some substance, and not a little excitement. It had turned out to be quite profitable, too.
That part of her life had turned on its head when Vos had cracked down on the guild, tearing apart its headquarters and beheading those it caught. All of a sudden, being a thief was not as much fun as it used to be, and she had fled into the arms of her family and the society in which they moved. The irony that she had sought sanctuary among the same Vos nobles that had hounded her thievish comrades was not lost on her.
When she heard the thieves' guild was not only still alive but was beginning to fight back, Elouise had been dubious. Being chased by the guard, even caught and fined, might shame her family, but she could shrug it off. She could not dismiss the executioner's axe so easily. However, she had been sympathetic to the plight of her old friends, and stayed in touch. When they returned and said they were planning a massive strike against the Empire, and that there was a role for her, something perhaps closer to her ideals of personal safety, she had accepted the challenge.
So it was she found herself in the Five Markets, clothed in the tight fitting leather tunic and trews that she adopted when engaged in her thievish duties. Trailed at some distance by a group of seven teenage boys, Elouise inspected the vendors and stalls she passed with some care.
Already briefed on which stalls to concentrate on, she carefully gauged each, looking for telltales that would reveal the trader's allegiance. Whenever she came across a trader who spoke with a heavy Vos accent or whose wares were of obvious Imperial origin, Elouise would lean forward and rest a hand on the side of the stall, hunched as if inspecting the goods closely. If her suspicions were confirmed, she would tap her fingers, three times.
Across the other side of the pathway between the lines of stalls, a group of boys gossiped, the breadth of their conversation ranging between girls of their own age, and those perhaps a little older, and who among them would win a free-for-all brawl. They were ignored by traders and passers-by alike, just a typical group of kids wasting time in the markets.
Anyone watching more closely might have noticed that the tallest of the group, a reedy boy called Mattais, spent little time engaged in the debates of his friends, his attention fixed firmly on a young woman as she moved from trader to trader. Every now and then, he would lean across to one of his friends and whisper something, perhaps a simple observation, perhaps an instruction.
Watching all of this, Jake stood with his back to a pile of stacked crates. Arms crossed, he hopped from foot to foot absent-mindedly with impatience, waiting for the fun to start.
Turning away from the older boys for a moment, he sought out Michelle and Emma from amongst the crowd, two girls he had never worked with before. They were easy to spot, as both wore bright tunics, of red and of green, guaranteed to attract attention.
Both were about eight or nine, a little younger than him, but he had been suspicious of them, instead wanting to rejoin his old team. However, when Ambrose had visited with news that the pickpockets were going back into business, the old thief had insisted this was a special team, with each member selected for one primary reason - all three were exceptionally good runners, and knew the alleys of the Five Markets better than anyone.
This reasoning, the creation of an "elite" team as Jake liked to think of it, had put him in high spirits and he could not wait to get started. He caught Michelle's eye, trying to hurry her on. She shrugged and cast her head about, inspecting those closest to her, and inclined her head, surreptitiously indicating a family that pushed through the crowd past her.
Assessing the mark, Jake smiled. The family was obviously from a humble background, the father probably a craftsman who worked hard for every silver he earned. He also looked fit, and should not drop out of a chase too soon. Jake nodded to Michelle, who grabbed Emma's attention, and then he looked back to see if Elouise was ready.
She was. Jake uncrossed his arms, letting her know that his team was in place and ready to strike. In answer, she reached up and, with great deliberation, tied back her long hair.
The signal was given.
Sidling up to the craftsman, Michelle reached for his belt pouch and, using a tiny blade, sliced the leather straps that held it in place. It dropped neatly into her hand, but instead of turning away with her stolen money, Michelle tripped and brushed against the man.
He looked down at her, frowning, then his hand went instinctively to his belt as he realised that he had been robbed. Giving a cheeky grin, Michelle turned and ran into t
he crowd, the craftsman just a few feet behind her, giving pursuit.
As the craftsman's family raised the cry of "Thief!" soldiers began to move into the crowd, closing in on Michelle from several angles. Her bright red tunic made it impossible to escape their attention.
Squeezing through the crowd, dodging the grasping hands of citizens quick enough to spot what was happening, Michelle was joined by Emma, and the two girls ran side by side for a few paces as the pouch switched hands. Then, they split, both running as fast as they could in separate directions.
"No, it is that one, the one in green!" the craftsman shouted to the nearest soldiers, pointing at Emma as she sped away.
Confused, the soldiers split up, trying to chase both girls now, but their carefully constructed ring, designed to hem in a pickpocket, had been shattered. People were thrown to the side as the soldiers barrelled past them, sweating hard in their armour as they tried to keep up with the children.
Seeing the soldiers occupied with the pickpockets, Mattais whistled to his friends, and they immediately halted their conversations. As one, they charged the first stall that Elouise had picked out for them, kicking the table over onto the terrified vendor. Goods were crushed underfoot or thrown out into the crowd, where people scrabbled for them, causing more obstacles for the soldiers.
Smiling at the chaos that reigned through the market, Jake trotted over to the drop-off point near a textiles trader. A minute later, Emma came pounding past him, soldiers hot on her heels. She flashed a smile at him as he held out a hand, keeping it low near his waist.
Brushing past him like a feather, Emma kept on running, jinking suddenly as she headed for one of the alleys that ran out of the market. Jake had to jump out of the way of the soldiers who, in their frustration, were beginning to flatten anyone who did not move quickly enough.
Seeing them disappear after Emma, Jake walked away casually, feeling the weight of the stolen pouch within his own tunic.
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