Starwatch

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Starwatch Page 2

by Ian Blackport


  “I may yet.” Cyriana drank her ale and reluctantly admitted Rope had a refined palate for alcohol. “For now consider me intrigued. At least enough to resist damaging your smug face. Tell me about this chore.”

  “The artifact my master wishes you to acquire is a scroll written more than twenty centuries ago. It is among the oldest surviving relics in Encrin.”

  “What culture authored it?”

  “The People of Bharal, during their uncontested glory days soon after trouncing the Grynn Hegemony.”

  “When people want Bharali relics they usually have their eyes on Bloodrinker blades rather than parchment.”

  “That depends on what one finds valuable,” Rope responded. “And my master is not most people.”

  “So I’d gathered. Fine, you want me to pilfer a moldy scroll from one collection so it can be heaped into another. Sounds like a dull errand. Care to offer me enough incentive to make the effort worthwhile?”

  “Two hundred gold coins each for you and any others you choose to hire. Enough for an enterprising thief in your band to purchase a minor title and estate.”

  “Is this some perverse joke? No one offers such a ludicrous amount for a little burglary.”

  “This is no jest. The risks warrant a high fee.”

  “Ah, I reckoned there was something you weren’t telling me. Guess I was wrong about it being a dull errand. The time to start being honest with me is now. What godsforsaken pit do we need to climb into to find your precious parchment? If you believe I’m stupid enough to travel into the desolate Bharali heartland, then allow me to set you straight. No amount of gold will convince me to trek through the haunted ruins of Aviish. Quaff what’s left in your mug and leave me to my seclusion if that’s your notion.”

  “Nothing so dramatic. I’m only asking you to infiltrate walls that have never before been breached, though the reasons have nothing to do with marauding ghosts.”

  Cyriana barked a laugh and wrapped clammy fingers around a pewter handle. “You’re insane. There’s only one place ancient Bharali parchment is housed beyond their ravaged homeland, and no one has ever stolen even a scrap of leather from Starwatch. Plenty have put in a doomed effort though.”

  “Everything worth doing is considered hopeless until some insane fool achieves the impossible. My master believes you’re that fool. I happen to concur with his assessment.”

  “Sweet of you to say, but compliments aren’t your best choice for swaying me. Besides, enough fools have tried and failed in Starwatch. I’ve even known some over the years. You might think all galens are frail old fogeys dispensing advice and smearing poultices, but they have the funds to hire a private army. Not to mention hundreds of young students in the prime of their life residing there who are molded into literati fanatics in no time.”

  “I see you’ve conditioned yourself to believe the job is impossible, though pessimism ill suits you. What thief shrivels when facing adversity? Perhaps I’ve broached this topic with the wrong woman.”

  “Nice tactic, wounding my pride like that. But another failed ploy. Look, what this requires is no small amount of arrogance and brilliance. I have enough of the former. Still not truly convinced I’m a shining beacon of the latter though.”

  “Take it from those who have followed your exploits, my friend. You have both traits in ample measure. And what a conceited virtuoso needs foremost is a way to exercise their mind.”

  “Planning to lure me with thoughts of reaching my full potential, are you?”

  “Think of the challenge, Cyriana. You’re a thieving artist, a prodigy at plundering. Imagine the thrill that would come from accomplishing what no other person has done before. I’d call you a liar if you told me the thought wasn’t appealing.”

  “I can admit some truth to what you say.”

  “I’m offering you money, security from those who wish you harm and a challenge unlike any you’ve faced before. What more could a woman in your boots ever want from life?”

  Cyriana rubbed an aching jaw and studied the haughty visage returning her stare. “If I’m going to do this for you, then it needs to be on my terms. No interference from you or your rich master. All aspects of this job belong entirely to me. The crew selection, the timeline, all of it. If you can’t agree to that right now then I walk.”

  “Given your expertise, these terms are agreeable.”

  “String, we have an accord. But understand, this doesn’t constitute a guarantee. If I deem the chance for success is too slim, I may still decide to abandon you. I won’t be coerced into a job I don’t believe can be done. And it doesn’t matter what payment is promised, I don’t willingly risk my life when death is a likely result.”

  “Your most recent choices beg to differ.”

  “I said willingly. Not all choices are ours to make.”

  “I can likewise accept these stipulations on behalf of my employer. Believe me when I say he doesn’t wish you or any others to die performing this job. How would he acquire the scroll if you perish while filching it?”

  “I don’t care what his reasons are for toasting my good health, so long as he does. Selfish desires can still help keep me alive.”

  “How unfair,” purred Rope. “He yearns for nothing more than your survival.”

  “One more proviso before I make my final decision. I’ll need access to plentiful gold and silver, and I don’t mean as my promised compensation. From what your master’s willing to shill out for paper, I know he must have a fortune squirreled away. I’ll expect you not to get miserly with me when I hold up a sack and ask for more gold. We’re not poaching a gem from some noble’s bedchambers. A heist of this nature costs more than most others earn as a payout from their jobs. Transportation, purchasing materials, boarding in a discreet inn, greasing palms. Especially that last one. I can’t afford to be stingy with bribes.”

  “You won’t need to be.”

  “I’d better not. For all their willingness to take dirty money and turn a blind eye, most folks act insulted and play the morality card if I offer low. It’s an occupational hazard and these uppity chaps can throw a wrinkle in even a masterful plan unless they’re well paid for their indiscretion.”

  “I’ll be in Arroyo for the duration of your stay. You need only make a request and I’ll do what I can to fulfill it.”

  “Then for now these conditions are satisfactory.” Cyriana swallowed a final mouthful and licked her lips. “Though it seems to me it’s in your best interest if I leave this city a free woman. Can your little lackeys keep my bounty hunters distracted until I do?”

  “How much time do you require?”

  “Two days at the most. I have acquaintances in mind to recruit and then I plan to be gone from this place.”

  “I can arrange the details.”

  “You’re most cooperative.” Cyriana clunked empty pewter onto wood and waggled a finger at the kitchen. “I’m hungry. Fleeing from blokes who want to kill you will do that to a stomach. Buy me a bowl of that delicious smelling stew with some cheese and a buttered loaf. Plus another mug of ale, since I’m still thirsty. We can hammer out more details while I recover my strength.”

  *

  Cyriana lifted her head from resting in a palm and glanced at the entry. A jangling key cranked the lock while she fidgeted to sit upright in her chair. Maylene entered the darkened chamber and shut the door, touching an inquisitive finger to its frame. She slung a satchel off one shoulder, walked to a crooked stool and tossed the pouch atop. A soft hum echoed from the petite woman and Cyriana started to wonder if perhaps Maylene had lost some semblance of her renowned talent. Even a noiseless intruder should have spurred a response from the thief.

  In the span most needed to blink, Maylene’s arm jerked upward gripping a loaded hand crossbow. Wooden prods snapped into place and one narrowed eye sighted along a stock aimed flawlessly for Cyriana. With enthusiasm she withdrew a mental accusation that Maylene had lost her touch. Bathed in faint moonlight, Cyriana lifted
one hand resting on a table and waved.

  “A fine evening,” she said. “Wouldn’t you agree?”

  “Gods be good,” Maylene exhaled, lowering her weapon. “I almost put a bolt through your eye. And you would’ve deserved it, slinking into my home.”

  “You have an unusual number of traps that needed disarming.”

  “Some of us are actually cautious. Not that you’d know anything about the sentiment.” Maylene slid an iron bolt across the door and padded closer on creaking floorboards. “How long have you been back?”

  “Not even the better part of a day.” She pointed at the hand crossbow. “Fancy toy. I don’t think I’ve ever seen the like. Is it Asdori?”

  Maylene collapsed tapering prods and removed the stubby quarrel. “Shodii made. I bought it from some codger peddling mechanisms. Nothing else caught my eye.” She placed the folded crossbow onto a table and glowered across the chamber. “Now for the more pressing question. Are you out of your godsdamned mind? Do you have any idea what Destiran will do if he gets his hands on you?”

  “I already know all the grisly details. His puppets were kind enough to shed light on the subject. My jaw still hurts from their zealous explanation.”

  “And yet you’re here, sitting in my bloody house of all places?”

  “We’re safe for the moment. You’ll have to trust me on that one.”

  “There’s a bounty on your head worth more than poor folks see in a lifetime. More than some well-to-do folks even see, now that I think on it. Maybe I should reconsider shooting you. It’d dislodge a future headache and I can retire off your misery.”

  Cyriana lifted a bottle in one palm and sloshed the liquid around. “Is this all the booze you’ve got on hand?”

  “I don’t entertain often. Took me three nights’ work to purloin a crate of that stuff, I’ll have you know.”

  “You need more imagination in your life. Time to set your sights higher than hoarding crushed grapes.”

  “Each bottle earned me ten silvers.”

  Cyriana peered at the wine with a raised brow. “Truly?”

  “I only saved the one, for myself.”

  “Consider this your first taste of entertaining then. But let no one say I’m not a gracious guest. I’ll even pour you a glass, too.”

  “You’re the definition of civil.” Maylene peeled off her tanned gloves and slapped them onto a chair while Cyriana fetched two mugs. “Why did you return to Asdor City? Your little stunt the last time you were in town hasn’t been forgotten, as you might’ve noticed. Word may not have spread yet that you’re here, but you’ve pissed off more than only Destiran.”

  “I’m not overly worried about the others. Destiran is the one who insists on holding grudges for an inexplicably long period.”

  “In his defense, you did burn down his estate.”

  “Maybe I did a little bit, sure. I didn’t mean to. Besides, I heard through the grapevine that he’s rebuilt the place. Fancier than before, to boot.”

  “Regardless, if you plan on staying you’ll need to watch your back.”

  She handed the woman a drink and clinked Maylene’s mug with her own. “That’s why I have caring friends to watch it for me.”

  “Ah, but what if I don’t want you anywhere near me? A girl has to think of her own safety. You’re nice enough company when you’re not being chased by bounty hunters. It’s the days you are that concern me.”

  “You’ll be delighted to hear I’ve no intention of staying to be snatched. I’m leaving here for a city where I’m a little less well known. And I want you coming with me.”

  “A job proposition, huh? Since you’re already here, you might as well tell me what you have in mind before I boot you out.”

  “So little faith in what I have planned.”

  “You’ve earned wary distrust, and don’t pretend otherwise.”

  “Half the jobs that went south weren’t my fault and you know it,” Cyriana alleged.

  “True enough. But Rhenis seems to have decided yours is an amusing mind to screw with. And I don’t like when the god of chance turns his eye on me. Face it, Cyriana. You’re bad luck.”

  “Means I need to compensate in other ways. Plus I think Rhenis found a more entertaining plaything. My fortunes have changed of late.”

  “Is that so? You’ll have to pardon me for not leaping to believe you.”

  “Since I returned I’ve eluded bounty hunters—”

  “They found you after a couple hours. Hardly what I’d call an inspiring reversal in your luck.”

  “It’s rude to interrupt. I was about to explain a fortuitous encounter with an associate of some exceedingly wealthy fellow who’s adopted an unhealthy fixation on an old scroll. Out of every thief and grifter he set his eyes on little old me. It goes without saying he has exquisite taste.”

  “And this mystery man is backing your new venture?” Maylene claimed one chair and propped her boots on a low table. “Why trust him or his stooge?”

  “He’s already started funding our heist. I have enough gold on me to live comfortably for years, with a promise far more is waiting. Plus he’s keeping my pursuers busy elsewhere while I natter with dear friends. I strolled the streets on my way here and wasn’t even accosted by a beggar. He’s a professional, this one.”

  “I don’t have much choice but to trust your judgment, I suppose. For the sake of argument, let’s say I’m a little intrigued about this scheme. Wealthy financiers lurking in the shadows tickles my fancy. Are you in a charitable enough mood to offer me some juicy details?”

  “I can do better than that. I’ll give you my target. A quaint tower housing the most valuable collection of artifacts and relics on the entire continent. I’ve been hired to burgle Starwatch.”

  “You truly are out of your mind.” Maylene sipped her wine and settled the mug atop a surface. “It’s ballsy, I’ll give you that. How many would-be thieves have been trussed up and packaged off to suffer under the Draugans’ tender mercies? Most folks might even find the number discouraging.”

  “I find it all the more tantalizing.”

  “No one has ever stolen from Starwatch.”

  “Someone has to be the first. Why not us? Our hidden benefactor is willing to fund an outrageous amount to get what he wants. We’ve never had the capital to undertake a heist like this. Most wannabes who try to sack Starwatch are incompetent or playing way the hell above their skill level. They’ve skewed the numbers to look disparaging. No one with our experience and the resources at our disposal have attempted this.”

  Maylene groaned and leaned backward in the chair, arms folded atop her chest. “I have only myself to blame for encouraging you, but what’d you have in mind?”

  “A crew of six should do it. Beyond us I figure we’ll need a false-facer, muscle, forger and sleight of hand.”

  “Seems reasonable. You thinking Thorkell for the false-facer?”

  “I was.”

  “Maybe you aren’t wrong about fickle Rhenis, because you’re in luck. Last I’d heard Thorkell is a pleasant river barge trip down the Honeywater in Ercora. Haven’t got a clue to Eloran’s whereabouts if you’ve a mind to hire him, though from the gossip I’ve gleaned he’s still in the country.”

  “Have you stayed in touch with Voran?”

  “Scratch him off the list,” Maylene said. “He won’t be any help to us.”

  “He doesn’t worry me. The stubborn drunkard is no different from most men. I’ve charmed worse prospects in my time.”

  “You’re welcome to try. But I reckon it’ll likely be a one-sided conversation and you’ll attract some vile rumors in the aftermath. Voran was killed a month back in a duel.”

  “That dampens my mood,” Cyriana muttered. She placed her drink down and tapped the table with one fingernail. “You know anything about whoever killed him?”

  Maylene laughed and hoisted her mug in mock cheers. “Yeah, he’d make a good replacement. Don’t have a name for you, but I can m
ake some inquiries and discover what his passions are beyond ending lives.”

  “That only leaves sleight of hand. Is Aelina about?”

  “She headed north to try her luck in Tlaean, last I’d heard.”

  “Figures,” mumbled Cyriana. “We’ll need to find a spare in Ercora.”

  “What’s our timeline for this?”

  “Flexible enough to have breathing room. We’re meeting our contact person in Arroyo next month. I’ve chosen the Widowed Moon for our purpose. We’ll stay there for two nights until we’re settled into the city and then find an inn that better suits our needs. The kind with a proprietor who doesn’t ask stupid questions. After that this is entirely our show and the money bag understands that. We’ve been given enough time to do this right; it won’t be a rushed job.”

  “Damn you,” Maylene grumbled. She slapped her knees and stood with one outstretched hand. Clasping Cyriana’s palm, she said, “I’m in.”

  “Never doubted it.” Cyriana placed her empty mug on the table and surveyed the barren room housing a threadbare sleeping pallet. “You have any daggers tucked away in a drawer? I lost my favorite one to Arora. And I feel naked with only a solitary tool for stabbing.”

  “I’ll show you my collection later tonight. You can choose the nicest.”

  “Ah, a promised treat if I behave myself.”

  “Since only one of us has a bounty on her head, I’ll make inquiries about our lethal duelist. You stay here and try not to touch anything. You didn’t disable every trap.”

  “You’re joking.”

  “I might be. You’ll only know for certain if you get too curious.” Maylene ambled to the door and glanced over a shoulder. “There’d better still be wine when I get back.”

  Chapter 2

  The honorable duel is a peculiar Asdori concept with a tradition harkening back centuries. One must ever be mindful of jests and disputation while in Asdor, for one can never predict when an affronted patrician might issue a challenge over a trivial slight. Some believe the Asdori possess the most polite and well-bred aristocracy in Encrin, and it must be said this tendency perhaps stems from the fear of facing a duel should a noble do otherwise.

 

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