The Burning City (The Guildmaster Thief Book 2)

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The Burning City (The Guildmaster Thief Book 2) Page 2

by Jake Kerr


  Alard nodded. "And how much are they paid for the unpleasant services they provide?"

  "Enough to eat and--" Vesper was going to say pay rent, but how much was rent in the Wretched Quarter? Were there even inns or places to rent? Did they possibly live in hovels? Vesper didn't know. "--Live," was his eventual reply.

  "They are paid less than a crown for a week of work."

  "Ridiculous!" Vesper replied. The amount was barely enough to pay for a day's worth of food.

  "Indeed. It is ridiculous," Ralan replied. "So we provide them the food and shelter they need. We do it by stealing food, clothing, and money from those that don't need it."

  "You steal from the rich and provide it to the poor," Vesper replied, not quite believing that the thieves--the people that Orion had always taught him were evil and selfish--were actually generous and providing for those without.

  "Yes," was Ralan's simple reply.

  "So you rule all of the land on this side of the river?"

  "Yes. We man the walls and patrol the streets. It helps that the only way here is a single bridge." Ralan scratched his head. "Is that all?"

  "No. One more question. What do you plan to do with Larsen and Orion?"

  Ralan peered at Vesper for a long time and then replied, "Nothing. Things seem stable. We have plans to further improve Ness, but they are subtle, and I will not share them with you." Ralan sighed. "We have answered your questions. So before you die, you said you had an offer. Now is the time to make it."

  "May I beg one last question?" Ralan nodded. "Do you have a Blade?" Ralan looked disconcerted by the question, and Vesper wondered what it could mean. It appeared that the thieves did have a Blade, but something had happened to him.

  He had started the conversation with two possible plans. The first was to offer himself as the Blade of the Guildmaster Thief. But after Ralan's response, Vesper went with his second plan. "Let me spy for you. I will return to Orion and tell him that I couldn't find you. He will not be surprised. He knew the mission had a low chance of success. I will be included in all of his planning, which I will share with you."

  Ralan shook his head, which worried Vesper, but his reply was encouraging. "So you would betray your guildmaster to save your life?"

  "It seems like a reasonable trade, don't you think?"

  Ralan laughed at that. "For such as you. But I fear if you were to betray Orion, you would just as easily betray me. So why should I trust you?"

  Vesper took a deep breath. His life depended on this answer. "Because as I climbed over the wall to the Ash Fields, I was moved by those that were trying to reclaim the land. The tower above me is both majestic and hidden. That is how I see myself--hidden and yet powerful and majestic in my own way, if you may beg my arrogance. When I experienced the invisible defenses you have beyond the bridge, and the guards on the walls, I realized that something amazing was happening here." Vesper took a step forward.

  "What I saw was amazing. What you said was amazing. I am not blind. There is something both honorable and mysterious in what you are doing. I am not a fool. I know I have been working for an evil man. I yearn to work for a good one." Vesper lowered his head. "So my offer is this: Forgive my devotion to an evil guildmaster so I may serve a good one."

  Ralan was quiet for a mere moment before replying, "Let me think on this." And without saying another word, he and Alard walked down the hall, the eventual grinding scream of the iron door a metaphor for what Vesper felt inside. He had a reprieve, but the uncertainty was as painful as a stab.

  When Alard returned alone three hours later, Vesper was sure his life was at an end. The ominous former knight paused in front of the door to Vesper's cell. "I have a question."

  "I will answer truthfully," Vesper replied, letting hope creep into his heart.

  "Other than the obvious answer of saving your own life, what is the one thing about the Thieves Guild that makes you want to serve us?"

  Vesper knew that the best answer was to say helping the poor of other guilds or to provide aid to those in need or any number of things that illustrated his dedication to the guild's mission. Yet the more he thought of the question, the more he couldn't shake the image of the huge dark tower at the base of the mountain. It drew him across the Ash Fields. He had to see it. It was as if the tower itself was reaching out to him. He felt a need to understand its mysteries and to climb its stairs and experience its view. It was as basic as that and yet so much more.

  It was irrational. It made no sense. And it was clearly the worst answer he could give, but that was how he replied. "The Tower. The moment I saw it I was filled with an unshakeable desire to know more about it. It is Ness' greatest monument and yet it is hidden in plain sight." Stabbing himself in the chest with a finger, Vesper added, "Nothing about the Thieves touches my heart as much as the Tower itself."

  The next day Vesper was at the West side of the Great Bridge. "We will contact you," his Thief escort told him before disappearing into the crowd like a drop of rain into a river.

  Turning back to the southwest, Vesper looked at the great Tower of the Thieves, barely discernible even from there. He had fooled the Thieves with a stupid story of some passing fancy--an impressive tower. Vesper couldn't even understand why he told the story, yet it was presumably one of the reasons he was released. As he crossed the Great Bridge, Vesper organized his thoughts for his report to Orion about the dangerous and previously hidden Thieves Guild.

  It was difficult to focus, however, for every few steps Vesper would pause and look over his shoulder, glancing at the mysterious, impressive, and nearly invisible tower in the distance.

  3

  A Good Omen

  Rolling to her left, Maela wrapped herself in the blanket to avoid the bright sun shining into her eyes. She didn't want to wake up--it was the most comfortable bed she had ever slept on, and the bedding was luxurious. Soft and thin and shiny. It was like being embraced by water. This has to be a dream, she thought, although the idea of dreaming about sleeping seemed absurd. She let out a small laugh still not quite believing what was happening.

  "Ah, you have woken," a kind voice from somewhere behind her said.

  Her Thief instincts taking over, Maela tossed the bedding aside to land on her feet on the opposite side from the voice. But the bedding was too slippery, and she did little more than roll away in a tangle.

  "You do not have to fear me. You and your friend were weak from lack of water. I'm a healer and my charge is to heal you." Maela opened her eyes to see an older woman wearing a white robe sitting in a chair next to the bed. Her hands were folded in her lap, and she was smiling. "My name is Lin."

  Maela looked around. She was in a single room with a wooden door opposite the bed, which was closed. A large window without glass or wooden shutters stood open behind her. It took up almost the entire wall and looked out on a piercing blue sky with a mountain in the distance. It looked a lot like the view from near the top of the Thief Tower.

  "Where am I?" Maela turned back to the woman.

  "You are in Ness. We found you in the mines. You collapsed after exiting the Forbidden Tunnel."

  Sitting up straight, Maela tried to peer out the window but could see nothing more than sky. "Ness? What guild tower is this?" Healers where part of the Protector Guild of the Knights, and the woman wore white. Perhaps this was some remote Knight outpost connected with the Rangers Guild. That made sense to her--she and Darla had traveled far past the walls of Ness and exited near a distant Knight outpost that she had never heard of.

  "Guilds? There are no guilds here. This is Ness. We are the trading center between Draque and Myren." Her eyes went wide. "Wait. I remember--the Wizards once had a guild, but we haven't called it the Magic Guild for centuries."

  "You jest at my expense," Maela said, frowning. She looked for her dagger, but her clothes were nowhere to be found in the room. She had a soft white tunic and nothing else.

  "I do not!" the woman exclaimed. "Why would you think it
so?"

  "Perhaps you are so far from the city that you no longer even understand," Maela said, as she scratched her head. Turning to the woman, she added, "Ness is the city-state where your guild is based, although you clearly have lost contact with it. It is further along the mountains, perhaps many miles away. It is run by guilds--the Merchant, Harvest, Craft, and Knight guilds." Frowning once again, Maela continued, "But you didn't need to tease me by mentioning wizards."

  The woman nodded her head. "I see." Standing up, she added, "You will need to speak with Traville. We assumed you were lost in the Forbidden Tunnel, but now I see it is something we had never expected to happen--you came from the other side." She said the words "other side" with an almost breathless awe.

  She walked to the door, turning and pausing before she exited. "There is water on the table. Drink much. You are still weak." She exited, and a sharp click came from the lock. Maela stood up and had to steady herself. How long had she been in the room? Hours? Days?

  After a quick drink of water, Maela made her way to the door. As she expected, it was locked.

  The window in her room was a window to a whole new world. A large city, nearly as large as Ness, surrounded the tower she was in. And what a tower it was! It looked to be as tall as the Thief Tower, providing Maela with a view of the mountains in the distance and the whole city, which appeared very similar to Ness in terms of building style. There were wood and stone buildings, roads, and towers of various sizes.

  The most amazing part, however, was the green in the distance. Maela had to lean far out the window to see, but there appeared to be a massive forest of trees that filled the entire horizon, running from the mountain to the edge of her vision, where the end of her window blocked her view.

  After an hour of marveling over the city where she was captive, there was a click and a man in dark brown woven pants and a red shirt stood in the door. His dress appeared formal, but he entered with a calm assurance and a warm smile.

  Red?

  Maela didn't know if she should flee. It was common knowledge that red dye was poisonous, even dry, and that touching it, let alone wearing it, was certain death. "May I come in?" the man asked.

  Asking to enter? He is not acting like a captor. "Yes." Maela stood, the bed between her and the man.

  "You appear frightened. I am not a threat, I assure you." The man stood near the door.

  "It is the red dye. It is poison."

  The man looked down at his shirt, a confused look on his face. "You are mistaken. Red dye is as safe as any other, I assure you." Maela didn't move. "Please, have a seat. I will sit in that chair." He pointed to a chair on the other side of her nightstand. She nodded.

  The man sat down, and with a refined movement crossed his legs and placed his hands in his lap. "I am Traville." He stared at Maela saying nothing else.

  "I am Maela," she replied, as she slowly walked around the bed to sit on the edge, facing Traville yet still far from him.

  He nodded and continued. "You are from Ness." Maela wasn't quite sure what the man was getting at. Of course she was from Ness.

  "Yes. I am from Ness, but certainly you know that." She glanced toward the door. "Where is Darla? I'm not answering any more questions until I know she is safe."

  "She is safe, but you will answer one more question before I can let you confirm that for yourself."

  "Fine, but first you must answer a question for me."

  "As you wish."

  "Where are we? The healer said I was in Ness, but this isn't Ness. Am I in some foreign land? Is this an Outlander city? And why do you wear red? I see that it is not poisoning you, yet red is still an odd color to wear. Is this a Knight tower in some city related to Ness that I don't know about?"

  Traville smiled. "That is more than one question, and I dare say that by asking your questions you have answered mine, but I will ask it none-the-less. But first let me answer yours. Your final question is close to the truth. You are in Ness, but not the city of that name across the Dragon's Teeth. We are its sister city, if you will. This is not a Knight Tower. This is the Tower of the Wizards, and while we have long ago shed the name guild, you would know us better as the Magic Guild."

  "But wizards and magic don't exist. Are you entertainers?" There were entertainers in Ness, although not many of them. They were mostly story-tellers, but there were some who would do fanciful tricks. Maela assumed that this city had a guild of tricksters. It was the only thing that made sense.

  The wizard stared at Maela for a long time, finally answering. "Our shattered past has unfortunately buried our history it seems." Sighing, he continued, "So. My question. Has Dragon Pass been re-opened?"

  "I don't know what Dragon Pass is."

  "You came via a road. How did you come upon it?"

  "We climbed down a treacherous path through a natural opening, if that's what you're asking. We were lost and followed the road." Maela had a sudden idea as to what happened, and it was so overwhelming she had to pause to take a deep breath.

  "I see." Traville stood up. "It appears, young Maela, that you have stumbled upon a road long hidden and a history long buried. Cora will want to see you, and she will take you to your friend. There is too much to discuss and perhaps even danger for us if we let you leave right away. So you will unfortunately have to be without your freedom for a bit."

  It didn't surprise Maela at all, so she didn't even bother to object. Traville was about to close the door behind him when he paused and re-entered the room, stopping just inside. "You said there is no such thing as magic." Shaking his head, he continued, "What a loss it has been for our friends who rejected us." And with a wave of his hand, a red rose appeared between his fingers. "The flower of our city. There was one in your belongings, dried up and crumbling. I considered it a good omen that you carried it." He lowered his hand, and the rose remained suspended in air. With a nod of Traville's head, the flower floated through the air and set itself down on the table next to Maela's bed. "A good omen, indeed."

  4

  Glorious Flames

  The only thing that bothered Larsen was that from his office he couldn't see the fire that was destroying the Green Belt. It was just out of his line-of-sight to the left. He could, however, see the flames billowing into the air throughout the Flats, and they were glorious.

  Pattis had just left with an assessment, and things could not have gone better. The Grell and Ironside families were deep in the Merchant Guild dungeons, while the other minor families that lived near the river were being shuttled across the Great Bridge and dumped in the Wretched Quarter. He had one more night to clear out a few more troublesome families, and then resistance would be minimal as he and Saxe and Orion cleared out the Harvest Guild from everywhere but the Harvest District.

  He returned to his desk. He had not heard from Karch in days, and that worried him. Pattis was the Blade. He was not the one to organize the work that needed to be done to clear the Flats and Lower Triangle. For that he needed someone with a sense of authority, not just ruthlessness. That is Karch, Larsen thought as he drummed his fingers. People will listen to Karch.

  The trouble was that Karch was late from his mission to the Outlands. Larsen cursed himself. He had no more need of the Outlanders, and Karch's mission was irrelevant. What Larsen needed was Karch back in Ness.

  With a slam of his fist, Larsen rose. He marched to the door to his office, exiting with a comment to the guard. "Wake me immediately when Karch arrives." The guard saluted as Larsen turned and paced to his quarters.

  He had one more night of burning, and then he'd need Karch or he himself would have to organize his captains. They would listen to him, but Larsen didn't know their strengths as well as Karch did. He'll be here tomorrow, Larsen hoped.

  As he set his head on his pillow, Larsen couldn't help but smile as the scent of burning wood drifted in through the window.

  5

  A Council of Thieves

  Despite reassurances from Alard and Raef,
Ralan was nervous about his first Guild Council meeting. He had spent time with each Captain, but each meeting was short and many were awkward, at least in Ralan's mind.

  Coode, the Captain of the Old Quarter, was almost rude in how he peppered Ralan with questions about governance that Ralan was ill-equipped to answer. As he stammered, Alard stepped in and said, "If the guildmaster knew the answers to all those questions, what need would he have for you?" It shut Coode up, but Ralan felt still felt foolish.

  Mio seemed angry that Ralan traveled through the Plains without difficulty and even angrier over the fact that Ralan had successfully dealt with the Outlanders. It was like his success in the same way that Pietro was successful was somehow an insult. Raef had warned Ralan that Rogers appeared to be trouble, but Rogers for some reason had not yet arrived.

  "You look like a guildmaster," Alard said as he entered Ralan's study. His hood was down, but his usual intimidating outfit of robe and armor was on display. He always appeared ready for combat.

  "I feel too young to be a guildmaster," Ralan replied.

  "You look like a young guildmaster," Alard replied, his broad smile making Ralan feel more at ease.

  "I'm just afraid that they won't take me seriously, Alard. They'll listen to you, but how can I elicit their respect if they are actually going to be listening to you?"

  "You don't elicit respect, Guildmaster," Alard said, walking over and putting his large hand on Ralan's shoulder. "You earn it."

  "But how do I earn it?"

  "Well, let's see, shall we?" And without saying anything more, Alard led Ralan into the Council chambers.

  Ralan slid into his chair at the head of the table. Eight of his captains were staring at him, with two empty chairs, those for Maela and Rogers. He cleared his throat and started on his prepared first words, which he had chosen to lift their morale.

 

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