The outer gate opened.
“Then good day, Mister Gestorus.” Tolso nodded and walked off. Asti stumbled out into the street. For a moment he couldn’t breathe. He almost couldn’t see. He leaned against the customhouse wall and willed his heart to slow down, demanded the beast stay on its leash. He wasn’t going to let it loose, not again, not over this.
The world around him slowly came back into focus.
Mila was in her place, shaking her hat with an eye on the gates. Asti walked past her, throwing a coin in her hat. “Two bells, Kimber’s.”
She nodded but said nothing.
He kept walking, back toward the inn and the stable. Time to get out of this Kieran frippery.
Asti couldn’t eat. Partly due to his unsettled nerves, but mostly due to Verci’s wretched scent. Granted, Verci didn’t smell much worse than most of the other patrons at Kimber’s, but it was still pretty blazing bad.
“There are bathhouses, you know,” Asti said.
“I didn’t know what the afternoon would hold,” Verci said. “I would hate to have to bathe twice.”
“Fair enough,” Asti said. “Where’s Kennith?”
“Back at the inn. He’s fixing the hole in the carriage.”
“Good. Here’s Mila.”
Mila threw herself in the empty chair. She pointed at Asti’s untouched stew. “You gonna eat that?”
Asti pushed it over. “What do you have?”
“Where’s my ten crowns?”
Asti pulled a few coins out of his pocket and put them on the table. Mila reached out. “Leave it for now,” Asti said. “What do you have?”
“Three men on each side of the wall, one at the gate in the morning. They change about every bell and a half. I counted fourteen different men working the wall and gate, and through the gate saw four more walking the dogs.”
Verci gave a low whistle.
“Now, after you gave them your shake-up, things changed about . . .”
“My what?” Asti asked.
“I don’t know what game you’re playing on them,” Mila said. “But you went in there looking like a swell, talk and talk, blah blah, you come out. Then your fat friend talked to the boss, and we’ve got ten on the wall and three on the gate. And they’re all grumbling when they lunched at the pub across the street about working double at night.”
“Back up,” Asti said. “My fat friend?”
“Who’s your fat friend?” Verci asked.
“I don’t know,” Asti said. “Who is this? What happened?”
Mila shrugged. “I thought he was your guy, because he went up as you walked away, talked to the boss at the gate, pointed at you, nodding and stuff.”
Verci groaned. “Ruddy man, thinning hair, pudgy baby face?”
“That’s him.”
“Hal?” Asti asked.
“Hal,” Verci said. “Who was the boss you smoked?”
“Guy named Tolso.”
“Yen Tolso,” Verci said. “He’s an old school chum of Hal’s.”
“Do you think you might have mentioned that earlier?” Asti said.
“So he’s your guy or not?” Mila asked.
Asti growled. “He’s—he’s my idiot brother’s stupid wife’s poxy sister’s dolt of a husband.”
“We don’t like the man,” Verci said.
“Thank you, Mila,” Asti said, sliding the coins over. “You can go.”
“Can I—”
“Go!”
Mila took the coins and the bowl of stew and scurried over to another table.
“Why was he at the customhouse, Verci?” Asti asked.
“I may have screwed up this morning.”
“Really? How?”
“He was, you know, being Hal, bugging me about getting some stupid clerk job, and I should go with him today, and I said, you know, I can’t because . . .”
“Because Asti and I are going to case the customhouse? And he said, oh, I have a friend who works there!”
“No,” Verci said lamely. “Well, sort of. I said we had a job possibility, and we were going to look into that. Just to get him off my back.”
“Well, now you have me on your back,” Asti said. “Come on, let’s go back to Ken.”
“No chance getting it out of the customhouse,” Asti said as they came back into the stable.
“Why?” Kennith asked. “What happened?”
“Short of it, we were pretty much made, and they cranked up their guards.”
“It’s my fault,” Verci said.
“I didn’t like our chances doing it that way, anyhow,” Asti said. “So we have to have a whole new plan. The target is the statue, after all. We have to get it where we can get it, and that’s not the customhouse.”
“Not anymore,” Verci grumbled. “And I can’t imagine getting it off the estate.”
“You know what that means.”
“Hit and grab,” Verci said. “I hate hit and grab.”
“What’s that mean?” Kennith asked.
Verci explained. “It means instead of sneaking in somewhere, nice and quiet, and slipping away with the goods and being home and dry before anyone notices a blasted thing, we’ve got to pick a point where it’s vulnerable, and hit hard, grab the goods, and run like blazes.”
Asti nodded. “Which means the carriage transfer.”
“It’s not vulnerable,” Kennith said. “Not this carriage.”
“Tell us about it.” Asti knew Kennith was proud of his work, eager to tell them.
Kennith’s eyes lit up. “It’s gorgeous. The body is made with steel, the doors and panels are all lined with it. It locks from the inside, so you can’t even get in it from the outside.”
“There’s always a way,” Verci said. “No such thing as the unpickable lock.”
“There is if there’s nothing to pick,” Kennith said. “There’s no latch or keyhole on the outside.”
“So the man on the inside can just clamp down and wait for the constabs,” Asti said.
“An arrow or an axe couldn’t get through there,” Kennith said.
“A mage could,” Verci said.
“We won’t have a mage,” Asti said.
“Ain’t a mage, like, cheating?” Kennith asked.
“If I could get a mage, I’d use one,” Asti said. “Use every blasted advantage you can in this business.”
“What about—”
“No, we can’t get one,” Asti said firmly. There were damned few mages who did gigs like these in town, and any that Asti had known had long since moved on or up. Mages could demand top crown for their work, and none were going to take an equal share in a nine-hundred gig.
Asti closed his eyes again, trying to visualize this carriage. In his mind, he saw it, all metal. “Does it have doors, though? Some kind of hatch, even if there’s no obvious way to open it from the outside.”
“Right,” Verci said. “There’s still got to be a crack or a seam where the door opens. You could get a prybar in there.”
“You could,” Kennith said. “But I’m sorry, none of us are strong enough to wrench it open with a prybar.”
“None of us are, true,” Asti said. He still saw the carriage in his head, and he tried to place the driver and horses on it. “What about the driver? He’d still be vulnerable.”
“That’s part of the genius,” Kennith said. “The driver is inside the carriage, protected in the armor. The reins are controlled through a system of pulleys.”
“He’s got to be able to see,” Verci said.
“On all sides there are slots to see through.” Kennith held up his hands about a foot apart. “No bigger than this. And those can be shut from the inside.”
“So an arrow could get in there, as long as the driver doesn’t see it coming.” Asti looked over at V
erci.
“Tough shot while it’s moving,” Verci said. “And if you take out the horses first, the driver will clamp down.”
“There’s one thing,” Kennith said. “The carriage isn’t very fast. It’s too heavy. Even with eight draft horses, it’s still moving at a crawl.”
“That’s something,” Asti said. “How many men can fit inside, including the driver and the statue?”
“Maybe one more, but it would be a tight fit,” Kennith said. “Really, if you want more guards, they’d have to walk on the outside.”
“Maybe yes, maybe no,” Asti said. “They probably don’t want to make it an obvious target.” He closed his eyes again. He played a few plans in his head.
“You have a carriage that can carry the thing and get away fast?” Verci asked.
“I’ve got something, yeah,” Kennith said. “And I’ve got two good horses that can sprint almost a mile with it loaded.”
“So if we can stop their carriage, take out the guards and driver and get it open, and load it in your gig, you can get it to a safehouse quick?”
“If you can do all that, yeah,” Kennith said.
One plan solidified in Asti’s head, but it would take six people to pull it off. He opened his eyes and looked at his brother.
“What have you got?” Verci asked.
“I’ve got a way to stop the carriage, take out the driver, and a maybe on opening it.”
“I’ve got a maybe also,” Verci said.
“Two maybes make a yes,” Asti said.
“What, really?” Kennith asked.
“Tends to be,” Verci said. “If neither way works, the job is skunked and we run.”
“Then we don’t get paid.”
Verci shrugged. “Dad always used to say, you’ve got to drive forward, even if the job turns left. You can’t worry too much about what happens if it fails.”
“Plan for it not to fail,” Asti said.
“And know how to run like blazes if it does.”
“Well, I can run. Or drive my girls like blazes, at least.” He gave a nod back to the horses. “But if we don’t skunk it, then we come back here?”
“Lay low until we do our pay drop,” Asti said. “Do we deliver to the Old Lady, or straight to the buyer?”
“Buyer,” Kennith said. “They apparently want to do it that night, around three bells.”
“Lovely,” Verci said. There was no single act as shady as delivering stolen merchandise in the middle of the night. “Not much room for error there.”
Asti shrugged. “Beats sitting on the fire for a few days. Get it, drop it, get paid.”
“And split it three ways,” Kennith said sternly.
“It’ll be six ways,” Asti said. “We’ll need three more bodies to pull it off.”
“Blazes, what?” Kennith’s voice dropped to a husky growl.
Asti held up his hands, clearly ready to defend himself if it came to that. “Easy, Kennith. You want to get this statue, get paid, we’re going to need six in the crew.”
“What kind of bodies do we need?” Verci asked.
“A sure-shot and a set of arms. And a kitten.”
“What?” Kennith asked. He looked very confused.
“He means we need a crack archer and someone else to be muscle. And someone who looks innocent to be a distraction.” Verci rolled his eyes and shook his head. “You’ll have to forgive my brother, sometimes he likes to talk in his little codes.”
Kennith frowned. “You sure we need six?”
“We do,” Asti said. “And six shares of something is a lot better than three shares of nothing.”
Kennith shrugged with grudging assent. “Fair enough. But who will you get?”
“You want that girl for the kitten?” Verci asked.
“Mila’s already got one toe in, might as well make it both feet.”
“And it’s obvious who you want for the other two,” Verci said. “Helene and Julien?”
“They need it as bad as we do,” Asti said. “They’ve got the skills, and we know them.”
Kennith spoke up. “Seems you’re padding this with people you know.”
Asti grit his teeth. “You know a good crossbow shot or strongman, let me know. Just Helene and Julien are a package, so might as well use them.”
“Fine,” Kennith said, though he seemed far from pleased. “Six shares, your friends, sure.”
“Just get that getaway carriage ready,” Asti said. “I’ll take care of the rest.”
Kennith grumbled and went into the back of the stable.
Verci lowered his voice. “This is still a good gig, right?”
“Of course it is.” Asti shrugged. “I’m not crazy about precisely timed intercept jobs that leave bodies in the street. But I can’t see a cleaner way to do it.”
“If you think so, we’ll keep driving on. Go find those three. I’ll stay here and work with Ken. Hopefully turn his mood.”
“You want to turn his mood, you might think about hitting the bathhouse.”
“The man sleeps with horses.”
“Then do it for me.”
Chapter 7
THE COUSINS WERE EASY to find. The two of them were sitting down in Kimber’s taproom, nursing beers over mussel stew and dark bread. Both of them looked miserable. Julien sat slumped, leaning on his elbow. The whole table leaned to one side from his weight. Helene hadn’t yet cleaned up from the fire, ash and dirt still on her face, her long black hair in wild, tangled clumps.
“You two look terrible,” Asti said as he sat down with them.
“Any reason why we shouldn’t?” Helene asked numbly. “No more house, no more money. No chances.”
“No work?” Asti asked.
“We haven’t had gigs in over a year, Rynax,” Helene said. “All we had was that house and the nest egg our grandma had.”
Any fleeting reservations Asti had about bringing the cousins in on the gig left him in that instant.
“You’ve got one now.”
“Job?” Julien asked, his huge face lighting up.
“Don’t toy with me, Rynax,” Helene said.
“No toying,” he said. He put one finger to his lips. “Verci and I have a lead on something.”
“You—” Helene started loudly, then hushed as she glanced around. “You two are back in the game?”
“Not much choice,” Asti said.
“True that,” Helene said.
“That’s good, Asti,” Julien said sadly. “But no one wants us.”
“Hey, I do, Jules,” Asti said. “Some people may only think about the last skunked job, but I know better.”
“What do you know?” Helene asked.
“I know you need it.”
“Don’t bring us in for charity, Rynax,” she said.
“I’m not, not one drop. I’ve always said, there’s no one better with a crossbow than you, Hel. And that’s what I need for this gig.”
“And me?” Julien asked.
“Merch will be heavy, and we’ll need to move it quick.”
“I can do heavy,” Julien said. “Have to fight?”
“Not if I can help it. All goes to plan, guards will be dead before you get close.”
“Hel?” Julien asked. “What do you think?”
“I think I don’t have a crossbow anymore,” she said.
“I think we can get you a new one,” Asti said. “In or out?”
Helene scowled, conflict played over her face. She glanced back at Julien. “Blazes, Rynax. It worth it?”
“Nine, split six ways. That’ll get you secure, yeah?”
“Yeah.” She leaned in close. “You square with me? He’s not gonna have to fight anyone?”
“If it goes to plan,” Asti said. “Plan depends on you
r crack shot, though.”
“Then I’ve got one more price,” Helene said.
Asti ground his teeth. He had told her too much, let her know he needed her. “What’s that?”
Helene grinned. “This crossbow you’re going to get me, it’s not just going to be any crossbow. Verci’s going to make it.”
That was surprising. And as far as Asti was concerned, an easy enough condition. “That’s what you want?”
“You want me at my best, I need a Verci Rynax crossbow.” Her voice purred when she said Verci’s name. Asti always knew Helene had a soft spot for his brother, but he had no idea how much of one.
“I’ll have to talk to him about it,” Asti said. “But I think we can make that happen.”
“All right then,” she said. “We’re in.”
“Meet us in an hour. Stable of the North Seleth Inn. You know it?”
“Of course,” she said.
“You have a flop for tonight?” he asked her.
“Good enough,” she said. “Kimber has taken enough pity on us to let Julien sleep in the storeroom and give me a spot in her chambers.”
“Nice of her.”
“Nice, nothing,” Helene said. “We’ve been doing her scullery and cleaning.”
“We’ll see if we can find you something better for tomorrow, all right?”
“I don’t need you worrying about what bed I’m sleeping in, Rynax,” Helene said. For the first time since the fire, her eyes lit up.
“It gives me something to think about at night.”
“Well, keep it to thinking.” She gave him a grim smile. “See you in an hour.”
“See you then.” He got up, glancing around the room. Greenfield sat alone in one dark corner, an untouched plate of stew in front of him. Asti walked over, tapped on the table to get Greenfield’s attention. The man didn’t look up.
“Win?”
No response. Greenfield stared blankly at the stew.
A soft hand—Kimber’s, Asti knew instinctively—touched Asti’s shoulder. “Everything all right?”
“Just seeing how Win is doing,” Asti said, turning to her. “Heard you’ve been looking after the Kessers.”
“Win, Helene, Jules . . . you.”
“I don’t need looking after,” Asti said.
The Holver Alley Crew Page 10