Chapter 7
The Pickpockets
Gave a hefty tip to the stable hand you say. All cloak and dagger, hmmm. Well in which case, follow them. Travellers may carry money on them for expenses and this and that.
“What to do, what to do?” pondered ‘Old Shifty’, the head of the self-proclaimed pickpockets’ guild. In front of him stood a couple of dirty and scrawny looking urchins. He smiled showing his black rotted teeth.
“Alright given there are two women, take three of you little scallywags. I suggest a little distraction ploy. Keep an eye on them; next time they are eating, they’ll likely throw their bags over a chair or on the floor.
“One of you take up a position behind their table, the others can start a scrap. The well intentioned though misguided ‘marks’ will step in to break up the fight.
“By the time you scarper and they return to their seats, we’ll have pinched the lot!
“Also, I don’t need to remind you that all the spoils are mine, and mine to share equally amongst you little weasels. I house you, feed you sometimes, and put the rags on your backs. So don’t you go pilfering anything or I’ll clip you both behind the ear.”
He clipped the two boys behind their heads anyway for good measure. “Now bugger off out of here and don’t come back until you have something for me.”
*
The mayor of Everstead, Mayor Mayer sat on a bulky chair with his huge bottom on a rather plump pillow. He wore a bright ostentatious purple tunic and a number of gaudy gold medallions of office. Though, if you were so minded to study them closely, the largest one simply said ‘Mayor of Everstead’ and he’d presented that to himself the last time he rigged the election.
Not that he really needed to rig one. Nobody would stand against him as his last two opponents suffered rather nasty accidents. The first, Mr Farmer, was smothered by his cow while he was milking it; the second, Mr Blacksmith, had an anvil crush his head while he was shoeing a horse. The appointed investigator of these cases, the mayor himself, decreed in each case that ‘it was just rotten luck’ and got to hold his position for another term.
The chief of his militia, Chief Savage, was currently kicking a poor peasant who was curled up on the floor. “So, let me just get this straight, you are not going to pay your rent this month because I burnt down your shop last month.
“Let’s be very clear here, you pay me rent for the land. I can’t be held responsible for what happens to your property on that land. Umm, even if as in this case I am in fact responsible, you were lucky that I just burnt your shop down.
“If I happen to grace your bakery for a tart or a cupcake, I certainly don’t expect to be charged for it. After all, do I not keep everyone in this town safe and sound?” he said, emphasising safe and sound with a last couple of wellies into the baker’s midriff.
The landlord of the Pied Piper Inn scuttled into the mayor’s office. Out of breath he paused for a moment. “Mayor Sir, Chief Savage, err is that …?” he paused.
The chief took his foot off Mr Baker the baker’s head. “Oh it’s you Mr Baker.”
“Nice to see you Mr Innman,” the baker said to the innkeeper.
Mr Innman the innkeeper continued, “Mayor I just thought you would like to know, in the interest of public interest, that I believe an Amphean knight just checked into the Pied Piper Inn.”
“You say a knight from Ampheus, a spy more like. Checking up on us. You know how it is, not everyone is as enlightened in their approach to keeping of the peace as I am. He’ll be straight back to King Armanar with tales of persecution and ill treatment of the townspeople. Mr Baker, Mr Innman, would that be fair, I ask you?”
“No mayor,” said Mr Innman the innkeeper. Though Mr Baker the baker could only mumble as Chief Savage still had his foot on Mr Baker the baker’s head.
Mayor Mayer addressed his chief of militia, “Chief Savage, I need you to find this knight, and teach him some manners, coming to my town unannounced, skulking around. I won’t have it I tell you, I won’t!”
*
Prince Aron and his companions had made good progress in their journey down from the Misty Mountains. They were able to skirt north past the Nyle Ice Fields and circle round to Everstead through an old pilgrims’ pass.
“I’m looking forward to a pint of ale and a hedgehog pie,” said Daylon.
“A warm bath,” said Aland.
“A comfy bed without too many bed bugs,” said Ailin.
“One thing at a time,” said Aron. “We need to find a hotel that can cater for all of us. Also, I need to visit the local Mayor and find out if there is any news on Ampheus and the rest of the realms.”
In the end they found rooms in the ‘Rose and Crown Hotel’, just off an alley to the north of the town square. “Right,” said the Prince, “let’s freshen up and then Daylon and I will pay the mayor a visit.”
*
The bandits had their plan. Once Sumnar and the ladies had left their quarters they entered the Pied Piper Inn. The plan was to ambush the knight and his companions when they returned to their room.
Oddly the innkeeper was not around so they simply checked the Inn’s register and made their way up to the Amphean’s room. They had a couple of crossbows and their swords.
The plan was that while the bandits with the crossbows distracted Sumnar, a third bandit hiding behind the door would bash him over the head before he could mutter even the simplest of spells. They would tie him up, give him a good kicking, and then steal his valuables and head back to Windfell Woods with their pride intact. It was the perfect plan.
“Nobody messes with the Windfell Bandits,” said Pud. So, presently two bandits crouched by the bed, one hid behind the door with a cudgel and two concealed themselves in the cupboard for good measure.
*
The Janshai entered the Pied Piper Inn and checked the register. They left a man at the reception to handle any busybodies. The absence of the innkeeper was a bonus as the less people involved the better. The Janshai marched up the stairs, paused for a moment, and kicked the door with such force that it swung violently open. It smashed into the face of the bandit behind the door who cried out in pain.
Such was the shock that one of the bandits loosed his crossbow, firing a bolt straight into the eye of the first Janshai, who pitched forward dead before he hit the floor. The other bandit yelped and fired into the chest of the second Janshai who fell backwards into the staircase. Despite the blood running in his eyes, the bandit ducked out from behind the door to cosh whoever was standing there, only to be run through by the third Janshai who charged the room.
Two others sidestepped round him and engaged the two bandits with the crossbows. One was carved in two instantly, the other ducked and hid under the bed and rolled from side to side as the remaining Janshai stabbed his sword through the bed covers to the floor.
It was at this point the two surviving bandits on hearing this commotion burst out of the cupboard.
The first slashed a Janshai who appeared to be attacking the bed; the second attacked the Janshai who was wiping his blade on the tunic of the bandit who he had just run through. The remainder was a melee of cuts and thrusts, screams and thuds until silence filled the room. The bandit eventually stuck his head up from under the bed only to have it cleaved off by the remaining Janshai, who himself was mortally wounded and drew his last breath before collapsing on the floor.
In all nine bodies were piled on top of each other and one lay on the landing. This was the scene presented to the last Janshai as he entered the room. He’d popped upstairs to see how things were going, muttering under his breath, “What the hell is taking them so long? Sometimes if you need something doing right, you need to do it yourself!”
In this case, however, on reflection he concluded this was not something he could do himself. Perhaps he needed to regroup with the rest of his me
n. He turned, stumbled down the stairs, grabbed his horse and galloped to the Janshai camp.
*
“What the hell? Ambushed you say. All five men dead. And you have no idea who did it.” The Janshai commander wrapped it up for good measure with another, “What the hell?”
His horseman just shrugged, “What the hell indeed!”
“Alright,” said the commander. “We’ll pull back the patrols; take a couple of units back into town. You see anyone holding a sword, a crossbow, a spear, even a pointy quill anywhere near that Inn, I want you to cut them down. Make it clear there is a price to pay if you mess with the Janshai.
“Find those three strangers; I want to know who they are and what they are doing here.”
*
Chief Savage stomped towards his militia headquarters. He turned a corner and his momentum carried him straight into Sumnar and the ladies knocking Fayette clean off her feet. “Out of my way peasants,” he said, and was out of earshot by the time Sumnar had helped Fayette up.
“What a nasty man,” said Sister Hulda, “someone should give him a bit of a slap.”
Chief Savage strode into the headquarters. To say he caught his men off guard was a literal understatement.
Four were sleeping in the cells, three were playing cards with a local convict who should have been in his cell but was not, and three staggered back in after him after a long boozy lunch at the pub next door, walking directly into the chief’s back.
“Right you horrible lot, trousers on,” though it was not clear why most had their trousers off, “belts buckled, shirts tucked in, swords sheathed. Outside, two minutes.”
The men assembled outside. “Right,” said the chief, “there is an Amphean knight in town and we are going to teach him a lesson.”
“Yes Sir!” shouted some of the men, not all mind you. Some yelled, “Yes Chief Savage,” and one cried, “Pint of your finest, landlord please!”
Sumnar and the ladies were walking across the square and decided to grab some lunch at the Seven Stars Tavern.
They watched as the militia marched through the town and halted outside the Pied Piper Inn. Chief Savage stepped inside with his senior deputy. Two minutes later they both emerged shrugging and shaking their heads.
*
“Looks like we dodged an arrow there,” said Sumnar.
Maruq, who happened to be sitting at the table next to him, looked at him questioningly.
“We just bumped into him a while back. Nasty piece of work if you ask me.”
“You are right,” acknowledged Maruq. “The mayor runs this place like his own, and the militia are his enforcers. Mind you best not cross them. There are many that have, and they are all lying in the church graveyard now!”
All of a sudden from the east, a column of Janshai warriors hurtled on horseback into the square. Seeing the armed militia outside the Pied Piper Inn they galloped straight towards them and mowed them down, carving two or three down on the spot. They turned, leapt from their horses and engaged the militia.
People ran for cover as the two groups fought it out. The militia was matched evenly in numbers, but hopelessly short of conditioning and fighting skills against the seasoned Janshai.
Sumnar went to stand, but Sister Hulda held his hand to the table and shook her head.
It was over in a minute or two. Chief Savage’s men were lying dead or dying on the cobblestones. Perhaps a couple of the Janshai received minor wounds. Chief Savage himself was on his knees. The Janshai stood in front of him but addressed those in the town square that could hear.
“Let it be known, this town is now under Janshai control. Anyone who feels fit to challenge the Janshai will share the same fate.” With which he swung his sword and scythed off Chief Savage’s head, held it aloft and tossed it into the middle of the square.
“I am looking for three people who checked into the Pied Piper Inn, a man and two women. Someone will lose their head every day until they are handed over to us.” They mounted and headed back to the Janshai camp.
“What was all that about?” asked Sumnar.
“I have no idea,” said Maruq.
“I thought the mayor had come to some sort of arrangement with the Janshai to maintain their distance from the town and maintain the peace, but I assume that that is no longer the case.”
Sister Hulda shook her head, “How come all of a sudden we are Everstead’s most wanted? I thought we slipped into this town relatively unnoticed.”
“Maybe I can offer our services. We are no friends of the Janshai, perhaps it is best if you stay with us,” said Maruq. “At least you won’t stand out as much in comparison to being on your own.”
What was not readily evident was that Charlie Dobbs had taken the opportunity to snag Princess Fayette and Sumnar’s bags. He was currently scampering down a back alley with their few personal items, including Earth Totem. Old Shifty would be pleased with this haul he thought to himself. And nobody had to earn a black eye in the process. Genius. The Princess realised the bags were missing and though there was an initial panic, Sumnar calmed them down.
“I think if the Janshai had taken them, they would be long gone by now. I think it is more likely that some pickpocket probably thieved them. We need to find who the likely culprits are and track them down.”
Maruq said, “I know a gentlemen who handles the pickpockets, and perhaps he could help.” He got up to leave.
“I suggest the three of you take cover at the Seven Stars Inn until I return.”
*
Old Shifty studied the contents of the two bags and shrugged, “Not much here. A few knick-knacks and a stone carving. I can hardly retire yet. You know these knights are poorer than I am. Someone needs to start paying them more money so it’s worth robbing them.
“The thing that still bothers me is why all the interest in these three by the militia and the Janshai.”
He turned to Charlie, “The Janshai killed the militia, beheaded Chief Savage and then said they will cut off the head of somebody else every day until the strangers are handed over. Did I hear that right?
“That’s quite a lot of effort to go to for someone who is carrying this rubbish.
“Well, I ain’t dealing with the Janshai scum, but the mayor may be interested in this lot for the right price. We’ll strike while the iron is hot; let’s go and pay our mayor a visit.”
When Old Shifty arrived, the mayor was in a terrible state. Blubbering to no one in particular. He had a couple of men left guarding the entrance of his office, but that was it. One of them held a pitchfork and poked it at Old Shifty.
“For goodness sake Shorty, let me through.”
“No one, especially not Janshai, is to pass through this door.”
Old Shifty shook his head, “Clearly I am not Janshai,” and clipped Shorty over the ear.
“Honestly, Shorty, you were one of the worst pickpockets I ever had.” He pushed the pitchfork aside and stepped in with Charlie Dobbs.
There was no one in the room. “Mayor? Mayor?”
“Don’t kill me, I never did no wrong, I’m as honest as the day is long!”
“Mayor!” repeated Old Shifty.
The mayor peeked up from under his desk. “Oh, it is you, Old Shifty,” the mayor sighed.
“The Janshai cut them all down in cold blood, in the town square, even Chief Savage.”
“Well,” said Old Shifty. “What do you expect? You pay chicken feed you get turkeys. They were hardly a well-oiled fighting machine!
“Ummm, no questions asked by the way. We seem to have come across the bags of the Amphean knight that checked into the Pied Piper Inn.”
“Really?” said the mayor. “And?”
“What’s it worth?” said Old Shifty. The mayor sighed. “What do you want?” Old Shifty smiled.
“Done!” wit
h which Old Shifty emptied the contents of the bags on the mayor’s desk.
“Is this it?” The mayor asked. Old Shifty shrugged. There was another knock on the door and Shorty stuck his head round.
“Umm your mayorship sir, there’s a couple of gents out here. One of them says he’s Prince Aron of Terramis and wants a word with you.”
The Mayor gave Old Shifty a look perhaps to say ‘could this day get any worse’ just as the door opened and the Prince and Daylon stepped in. It was getting a little stuffy in the mayor’s office.
Prince Aron started to introduce himself but trailed off as he saw the two artefacts sitting on the Mayor’s desk.
“Pardon me for being abrupt, but where the hell did you find those?” Old Shifty shifted uneasily from side to side. “Begging your pardon Your Highness, I sort of purloined it off a knight and his two lady companions.”
“Describe the knight for me,” demanded Aron.
“Tall, older, bald, grey beard; dressed like a monk.”
“Sounds like Sumnar,” said Daylon. “What the hell is he doing here?”
“Likely he’s trying to meet up with us!” said the Prince. “He must be going cross-eyed if he’s lost these,” and Aron chuckled.
“Mayor, have you heard any updates from Ampheus?”
The mayor shook his head, “Very little, I believe the siege continues. There is a sizeable group of Janshai camped and operating out of the east of town. They just killed all my men, and it seems they’ll behead someone everyday if we don’t hand over your friend Sumnar.”
“Well,” said the Prince, “he can rub people up the wrong way but this is quite an effort even for him. Do you know where we can find him?”
“He was last seen at the Pied Piper Inn,” said Old Shifty, who was enjoying being in the company of royalty and performing his civic duty.
“Well in which case,” said the Prince, “let me find him, we’ll regroup and see if we can’t find our way out of this mess. Please don’t tell anyone, especially the Janshai, we are here.” He gathered up the bags and turned to leave, when there was a knock on the door.
Dryw Henge Page 9