Starwatch

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Starwatch Page 10

by Ian Blackport


  “I read fine, thank you,” she rebuked. “How accurate is this?”

  “You’ll discover for yourself soon enough, I’d wager. I can’t vouch for its veracity. Only that it seems to be from a reliable source. There may be discrepancies, though you can take comfort knowing these only relate to the minor details. We know precisely what is contained on each of Starwatch Tower’s nine floors for instance, along with primary security precautions.”

  “It’ll have to be good enough for now. Though our first priority will be getting someone inside the tower to confirm this layout.”

  “You’re willing to take such a gambit this early?”

  “I’ve little choice. I can’t conjure a convoluted heist if I don’t know pertinent details. That’s just asking for complications. Not knowing exactly which doors are routinely locked can cause a hindrance in the best scenario and capture in the worst. Despite what you might think, no detail is minor on a job like this. One unknown sentry or misplaced expectation spoils the entire plot. I won’t commit the sin of assuming. Honestly, I’d be taking a greater gamble if I chose to not send someone in.”

  “You have time to ponder at any rate. I’ve arranged accommodations for you here, three rooms as requested. I took the liberty of booking those bedchambers for the upcoming week, though we can extend our residency however long you deem necessary.”

  “We won’t be staying longer than two nights. The Widowed Moon is nothing more than a temporary stop for us.”

  “That seems unnecessary, given this inn’s ideal location.” Rope nudged a dusky thumb toward the lone window. “Starwatch is a pleasant walk or carriage ride distant and we stand at the confluence of several avenues.”

  “Which is why I hate it. We need an isolated location, away from prying eyes who might notice our activities and start asking questions. Beginning tomorrow morning, we’ll search for a more appealing place and relocate the moment we’re able. I’d like to maintain a single room here apart from your own though. We’ll use it for occasional observations and whenever we need a nearby refuge on short notice.”

  “I’ll trust your judgment, Cyriana.”

  “I like the sound of that. Now let’s talk about silver and gold. Specifically how I get my greedy hands on the goods.”

  “I’ve opened an account at Vinaldor’s, a reputable banking and lending house here in Arroyo. There are ample funds for this venture waiting to be withdrawn. You and only you can access my account and the assets stored within. While my master has been generous, I’d advise you to pace yourself. If you drain our modest treasury entirely, and you’d better have a damned good reason for doing so, there won’t be additional resources for a considerable time.”

  “Unless we help ourselves to a loan.”

  “I’d prefer not to, owing to their exorbitant lending rate. But we do have that option in an emergency, yes. Plus most businesses in the city will accept a bank note from Vinaldor’s in a pinch if you’re low on coins.”

  “To make sure there aren’t any misunderstandings,” Cyriana inquired, “exactly how much do I have at my disposal?”

  “The equivalent of eighty gold suns, divided evenly into silver stars and bronze folles. Vinaldor’s will convert any denomination into gold should you ever need to flash around such an unobtainable currency. They will likewise exchange Asdori coins for Imperial ones by request. I understand the Empire is keen on formally outlawing local currency in the coming years. A means of standardizing the economy presumably. You might come across folks who refuse to accept Asdori money.”

  “Eighty suns is a hefty sum. I’d love to believe we won’t go through that much, but no promises.”

  “I’ve come to learn you don’t deal in promises.”

  “Only fools do, Hemp.”

  “Speaking of fools, when will I have the pleasure of meeting your compatriots?”

  “Never. I’m keeping distance between you and them. You’ll deal exclusively with me as necessary.”

  “That seems unusually paranoid, even for you.”

  “Hardly. This is my team and my job, as agreed. I won’t tolerate interference or have you coercing someone into a task I’ve deemed ill-advised. If you start brokering deals with my comrades, even seemingly innocuous ones, I swear I’ll walk away. I’d have enough time to clean out your vault at Vinaldor’s beforehand, too. You’d be left with plenty of money squandered and nothing to show for it. I suppose the crucial question is how forgiving your master might be. You’d know better than I.”

  A slight wrinkling seized Rope’s brow. “I’m unsure whether to agree with your explanation or feel marginally insulted.”

  “Makes no difference to me so long as you do my bidding. You found me and elected to put your trust in me. Time to prove all those words.”

  “It seems you’re leaving me once again with no choice but to consent. I will, though you’d be wise not to continue lecturing me with these requests.”

  “Don’t get high and mighty and pretend to feel slighted. You’re here specifically to cater to my requests. Now are you going to act pissed all day or can we start our work?”

  Rope’s compassionless eyes stared into hers until he rolled the creased map. “I’ll deliver details for the account at Vinaldor’s before you move elsewhere, along with requisite features regarding the Bharali document. Afterward you may bring any inquiries directly to me or have a sealed note delivered to my room for the duration of this job. I’ll respond at my earliest convenience.”

  She accepted the parchment from him and tucked it under an arm. “I’ll be in touch, Thread.”

  Chapter 7

  Heists never fail during a moment of stupidity once the game is underway. A theft is assured or ruined long before I step into any manor, during the days or months prior. Botched planning and halfhearted rehearsals are the bane of my profession, not locked entrances or alert sentries. Of course given my current predicament, one might not want to ascribe literal truth to all I say.

  From the Trial of Farien Taerlon, Day 2

  308 Black Ruin, Year of the Tangled Glade

  Cyriana eyed Thorkell while he wrenched the wooden stopper free from a wine bottle and filled awaiting mugs. Eloran accepted one and sipped ruby liquid smelling of spiced berries. “You’ve kept us chomping at the bit long enough, lass,” he declared. “What noble family needs their house cleaned out?”

  “Nothing so tame,” responded Cyriana. “If I had my eyes on sparkly jewels I’d do this alone. I might’ve brought Maylene along for company, but no one else. She’s more pleasant than you’d believe so far. Our ambitions on this venture are considerably grander.”

  Maylene unfurled the parchment map and spread it atop a table. “Our target is the galen academy. Starwatch houses the wealthiest collection of loot on the continent and we plan to pillage what might be the most fetching relic of all.”

  Silence greeted her pronouncement and Thorkell lifted his upper lip in a smirk. “Didn’t I tell you the idea was ludicrous?”

  “You did, yes,” remarked Cyriana. “I ignored you then, and I plan to do the same again.”

  “Gods man, you knew?” Eloran said. “Why didn’t you put an end to this madness when you first heard?”

  “Cyriana has a persuasive personality,” grumbled Thorkell.

  “Aye, that’s the truth.”

  “If anyone here doesn’t wish to be, don’t sulk on my account.” Cyriana jabbed a forefinger at the bedchamber’s locked entry and glowered at her companions. “By all means, slink downstairs and scamper away from the city. Enjoy paying for your own trip home.”

  Thorkell’s features perked at her words. “Me too?”

  “No, my threats for you still stand. I’m only giving the others a choice because I have less obvious means for compelling them to remain.”

  “We could always drag Eloran back to Talivin if he tries hobbling off,” suggested Maylene. “He’s in no shape to put up a fight. Tackling him is also something I’ve long desired.”<
br />
  “True enough, but I’d prefer it if at least a few people were here by choice. How about it, Eloran? Care to spit in my face?”

  “Difficult though it is to acknowledge,” he uttered, “I owe my current freedom to you. I’d rather forget that fact, but it seems you’ll never allow me to. In exchange, I won’t return the favor by abandoning this heist.”

  Cyriana cracked one forefinger with a jerk. “Hooray. I knew I could hammer through your stubborn shell. Zalla?”

  “You saved my life and I don’t need reminding like that prune. Plus I have nowhere else to go. I’m staying.”

  “This one I like,” Maylene affirmed.

  “I’m going to assume the person who faces death each day won’t object to more danger,” Cyriana said. “This is a regular evening for Baskaran, I’d imagine.”

  “An accurate enough assessment,” he conceded.

  Cyriana faced the lone man remaining and tried to read his expressionless features. “Desin, you have any complaints needing to be voiced?”

  “Were you really keen to frame me for theft?”

  “Hard to say, but it’s for the best you didn’t force us to make that choice. Unpleasantness avoided, and let’s keep it mum beyond that.”

  Desin shrugged and drained his cup. “Suppose I’ve got no choice. I don’t have nothing waiting for me elsewhere. And most days I pissed myself fearing legionaries might hack off my hands. I got no desires to go back. Might also learn a trick or two working with some professionals. It’ll be educating, you could say.”

  “Good, then we’re all committed to our caper,” she affirmed. “Time for Maylene and I to bring you into the diabolical loop. We aren’t prancing into this blind and deaf, if anyone was concerned.”

  “And we aren’t rushing this either,” asserted Maylene. “We take what time we need and play this smart like. If conspiring takes months, so be it.”

  “What might we be pinching?” Eloran inquired.

  “A Bharali scroll called the Codex Sceleratis Caedes,” responded Cyriana.

  Thorkell harrumphed and leaned back in his chair. “Doesn’t sound Bharali.”

  “Probably because it isn’t. Scholars in the My’shi Empire coined the phrase. The Bharali apparently had no name for it. Or at least not one that survived.”

  Eloran eyed her with a wary regard. “Are you aware of its meaning, by chance?”

  “It’s only a name. No need to feel spooked by intellectuals who fancied themselves clever.”

  “I’m interested in hearing what it means,” said Baskaran.

  “Loosely translated it can mean either ‘Unholy Slaughter’ or ‘Bloodshed of the Godless’.” Cyriana offered a shrug by way of explanation. “The My’shi didn’t mince words apparently.”

  “And that doesn’t sound the least bit discouraging to your ears?” Eloran questioned.

  “No, because it’s nothing more than a scroll. The My’shi were prone to poetic exaggeration. Not to mention the Bharali and their dark magics are long gone from this world.”

  “Why’s someone want us to steal it then?” asked Desin.

  “The codex is damn ancient. Older than every country on the continent. The Bharali were among the earliest civilized nations in Encrin, though I’m admittedly reticent to call their culture civilized. Collectors salivate over possessing antique artifacts. If you’re interested in a more fulfilling answer, then tough luck. I don’t make a habit of leveling needless inquiries toward my employers after they offer to toss coins at me. If the chastisement is finished, can we move along?”

  “Yes, fine lass,” Eloran uttered. “Please share with us what you know.”

  “Starwatch Tower is nine stories tall,” Cyriana declared, tapping a finger against parchment decorating the tabletop. “The first story is only devoted to making things pretty. Fountains, gardens, marble sculptures and busts, that sort of thing. Those arrogant blokes have even dredged artificial creeks and ponds if you can believe it. Stories two and three house lecture halls of variable sizes. Some are small and intimate, others little different from theaters. Fourth floor is where things start to become interesting. First we have residences where all adepts reside.”

  “What are adepts?” inquired Desin.

  “The highest and most knowledgeable students on their way to becoming galens. They’ll have studied for between fifteen and twenty years by this point and are scary intelligent. They live in a close knit community and would recognize an outsider. It’s best we avoid them entirely if it can be helped.

  “After adept residences, the next three stories belong to the House of Wisdom, the fabled Starwatch library. We’ll discuss the discouraging facts in a moment, but suffice it to say each successive level holds rarer artifacts.”

  “And comes with more daunting security,” Maylene added.

  “Senior galens reside and have studies on the eighth floor. Finally, the ninth story and roof serve as an astronomical observatory. One responsibility galens accept is mapping the stars and maintaining the Encrini calendar. We know about celestial events because the galens tell us so.”

  “My keen insights tell me that’s where the name Starwatch originated from,” quipped Thorkell.

  “Not a bad hunch,” Cyriana replied. “Now then, about that library. First floor is open for all students down to novices. Those are the youngest galens; most start at ten or eleven.”

  “Nothing valuable there,” said Maylene. “Only academic texts any antiquarian peddling books could find.”

  “Next level is accessible to learners and initiates, and each student is required to sign in before entering. It might sound appealing, but don’t bother. There are some pricey artifacts in there admittedly, though nothing to make all our efforts worthwhile. What we covet is kept on the third floor, where only galens and senior adepts can tread. No records are kept for those entering, because the doors are barred at all times. The only access comes from select galens and senior librarians, who reputedly wear their keys at all times. I find that difficult to believe, so consider confirming the rumor a top priority. If it is true, Desin might need to pull off the most daring pinch of his young life.”

  “I’m up for it.”

  “All younglings who don’t know any better say that,” retorted Eloran.

  “Since this entire plan is nothing sort of suicidal,” Thorkell started, “let’s lay the disturbing details on the table right now. What will be the most difficult aspect to this job?”

  Cyriana munched on bread and wagged her slice at the tower sketches. “Aside from even finding a way into the third floor library, you mean? Not counting disheartening tidbits we don’t yet know about, the main challenge will be what to do once we’re inside the library. We have no clue where our document is even stored. Or what it looks like, since presumably none among us read ancient Bharali.” She directed her gaze toward the only possible candidate. “Zalla?”

  “Sorry,” the girl replied. “Can’t help you. I’ll be able to memorize it if anyone got me sample text though.”

  “Not a bad idea. I’ll make queries.” Rubbing her jaw, Cyriana returned to the schematics. “The lower levels have detailed floor plans, owing to the fact students are expected to find what they need without bothering librarians. The same is not true for the third level. Senior adepts allowed within are few in number and it’s mandatory to inquire with a librarian or galen. There aren’t detailed illustrations for us to consult and we don’t have the time to browse. It’s imperative we find the precise location of our valuable parchment before entering.”

  Thorkell tapped a tentative finger on parchment. “And if one doesn’t exist?”

  “We know it must,” answered Maylene. “Even librarians and galens can’t possibly remember where every lone scroll and relic is kept. It would be too inefficient. I’d confidently bet my entire share of this venture that there’s an intricate filing system somewhere. It just isn’t made available to consult unless you’re in the know.”

  “I
’ll take that bet,” Thorkell challenged.

  “Not a chance.”

  “The most mundane obstacle,” said Cyriana, “is that non-galens are forbidden from entering Starwatch grounds. And I don’t mean only the tower itself. We’re excluded from all gardens, lecture halls, dining areas, trails and stoas. Everything encircled by their beautified wall is off bounds if you aren’t wearing a robe or training for one.”

  “There must be exceptions,” remarked Baskaran.

  “We know there are. We just aren’t sure if we’re aware of each one. That’s something needing to be learned with haste. Scribble it on our to-do list.”

  “Which ones do we know about?” Zalla questioned.

  “Prospective students and their families can visit, provided the date is arranged in advance,” explained Cyriana. “Wealthy patrons are likewise free to wander the property with an escort.”

  “Is that all?”

  “The ones we’ve already deciphered at least. Are there more? Until we confirm another one, we don’t know.”

  Thorkell laced his fingers and twiddled slender thumbs. “Don’t be shy, Cyriana. I know you’re withholding more unpleasant rumors.”

  “Aye. No one is certain, but scuttlebutt has it guards are poised as menial laborers. Some gardeners and servants might actually be trained brutes watching for unwary thieves. That’s one unsubstantiated gossip I’d dearly love to deny with a bit of snooping.”

  Floorboards creaked beneath Baskaran while he paced and surveyed the illustration. “Am I remiss to assume we don’t have a plan, Cyriana?”

  “No, you are not. Truthfully we haven’t the foggiest idea how we’re snatching our valuable codex. At the moment I’m eager to hear any wild theory you can summon. Don’t hold back.”

  “What about scaling Starwatch and entering through the windows? Isn’t that a method some thieves practice?”

 

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