by Jake Kerr
"It is perhaps wise to keep an eye on him," Karch noted.
Larsen's temper rose again. "And how do you suppose we do that, Karch? Do you volunteer to wander into the Wretched Quarter and watch over him? Do you have some network of vile scum that live over there that can tell you? Do you?"
"No, sir," Karch replied.
"Let me tell you why it doesn't matter. I have worked with Orion on a new plan. It is perfect because it requires nothing of a guildmaster vote or risky assassinations. All it requires is us to move some people, and then kindly offer them a return. But, here, let me outline it for you. I will need your help."
Larsen's good mood returned as he outlined his entire plan, starting with the description that was his new favorite--killing the body of the snake to destroy the head. In this instance, the body would be the Harvest Guild members, and the head would be the soon-to-be-deposed guildmaster, Polo.
As Larsen was outlining how the first night had gone, Karch interrupted him. Not quite believing that Karch had the gall to stop his fantastic overview, Larsen once again gripped his chair. "Sir, you do understand that the Harvest Guild is the largest by far in Ness. Their membership is not just in the Flats and Lower Triangle. They have important families in the Upper Triangle, as well as large numbers of families that live in the Harvest District itself. Not to mention those that live in the Outer Fields and the Mines. Any kind of physical confrontation has a low likelihood of success."
"Do you think I'm an idiot, Karch?" Larsen took a few breaths. He was tempted to pull a dagger on Karch for his insubordination, but Karch's years of service made Larsen keep at least a modicum of control on his temper.
"No, sir. It's just--"
"Say another word, and you'll end up in the dungeon." Karch didn't move, his face once again devoid of any expression. "This is not a call for civil war, you dolt. We're imprisoning the troublemakers and the members who no one cares about--those in the Flats and the Lower Triangle. It will be enough to call for Polo's dismissal and then embrace the Merchant Guild as their brothers."
Karch stared at Larsen.
"What I need you to do is to oversee the relocation efforts. Get every Harvest Guild member in the Flats and the Lower Triangle to the Wretched Quarter. I don't care how you get them there, just get them there. Drag them across the bridge if you have to."
After taking a deep breath, Karch replied, "So I am to oversee the relocation of hundreds of families across the Bridge, and by doing that we will offer ourselves as saviors and welcome them into our guild to bring them home?"
"Exactly." Larsen didn't like Karch's tone and wasn't quite sure why his deputy--who had served him well for many years--was suddenly hesitant. Perhaps the attack by the Outlanders had scared him. Yes, that must be it, Larsen thought. "Look, Karch. I understand you've just survived an attack and a grueling journey. Get with Pattis. He will give you an update on everything and present you with more details. After talking to him you'll understand."
Karch bowed his head. "Yes, sir. I will discuss this with Pattis right away."
"Very good." Larsen waved Karch toward the door. "You are dismissed."
He watched as his deputy slowly walked out of his office. For all of Karch's exhausted confusion, Larsen was glad he was back. While the plan was strong, having Karch executing the details meant it was destined to succeed.
8
Flames Along the Throughway
With less than three hours sleep and little time other than to change his sooty clothes filled with the stink of smoke, Rogers left Maas in control of the Flats while he traveled to the Lower Triangle. The previous evening the Ironsides and Grell estates had both burned to the ground, while the fires along the River were still burning into midday. Things were still bad in the Flats, but they appeared to be coming under control and Rogers needed to get to the Lower Triangle.
As he grabbed the reins of his horse, Rogers tried to grasp the scale of the disaster. In the Flats alone, it was too much for the Fire Protectors to handle. He couldn't imagine what was going on in the Lower Triangle. Rogers had every available Thief assisting, but it still wasn't enough.
We need Maela, Rogers thought. Maela, before she went on the fool's errand as the new Blade of the Guildmaster, was the Captain of the Flats. She knew everyone and had every nook, cranny, family, street, and building memorized. Rogers didn't like her methods and was constantly annoyed as she ignored his attempts to teach her, but he knew she had good instincts and even better knowledge.
Without Maela, Rogers was stretched thin. He was confident Maas could manage things, but Maas didn't have the creative and decisive mind of Maela. Still, there was nothing Rogers could do--while the damage in the Flats was catastrophic, the fires in the Lower Triangle were still raging and on course to be even worse. He had to trust Maas and get to where the fires were still burning unchecked.
The moment he arrived at the Green Belt he realized why things were so bad. "Where are the Fire Protectors?" he asked as he grabbed a young Harvest Guild member, who appeared to be in shock as she watched an entire swath of the city burn.
"I was told they are stretched too thin. They can't be everywhere at once." The words came out in a monotone, as if the young woman was simply repeating something she had been told.
Rogers watched as Harvest Guild members bore pails and buckets to fight the flames. Many of the homes had already burned out, leaving nothing but charred cinders behind. He knew that a large number of the Harvest Guild members helping were actually Thieves, doing their best to assist the city.
The Green Belt stretched along the north side of the major road that split the Flats and the Lower Triangle. Officially named Founders Path, the road was commonly called by the simpler name of the Throughway. Wide enough to fit three wagons, the Throughway was the major artery that linked the Warehouse District with the many shops in the Flats and Lower Triangle.
The Green Belt featured bigger homes with larger lots than were found in the Flats, which made it clear that if you lived there you were wealthier. The phrase "from the wrong side of the Throughway" was a common description for the residents of the smaller houses on the Flats side of the road and one that indicated the often divisive conflict between the two sections of the city.
The fires had shown no such prejudice, striking both sides of the Throughway with equal ferocity. The lush lawns that were one of the reasons for the Green Belt's name stretched nearly from the river to Founders Park and Merchant Tower, and as Rogers rode along the Throughway the houses behind every lawn seemed to be burning.
Rogers couldn't understand how that could even happen. The houses weren't packed as close as those in the Flats, and yet the fires were worse here than there. Part of it was clearly due to the lack of Fire Protectors. The houses burned, the embers floated to nearby houses, and the flames took hold. But it was obvious more was at play.
The ride toward the river along the Throughway was heartbreaking. The fires clearly started near the river and had spread toward the east, and what started as frantic guild members fighting newly burning buildings turned into stunned masses of families staring at the last few flames licking the splintered wood of homes minutes from collapsing, and finally to the smoldering ruins of the early fires, with nothing left but ash and dust.
As he rode another tragedy unfolded--the brazen efforts of the Merchant Guards to clear the Harvest Guild out of the Flats and the Lower Triangle. Rogers had his suspicions the night before, but as he continued to organize the fighting of the fires, all he could do was watch the blue wagons take people away. Of course, it appeared that they were being taken to shelter, but Rogers had seen far too many machinations from the Merchants to believe that.
What was a suspicion in the Flats was confirmed in the Lower Triangle. It was as obvious as it was heartless: There weren't enough wagons to clear all the people out, so while their own homes smoldered, Merchant guards used swords and clubs to push the Harvest Guild families toward the Great River.
"Killian!" The Thief turned and bowed his head slightly to his Thief captain. "Old friend!" Rogers strode up to him and lowered his voice to a whisper as they gave each other a firm handshake. Killian whispered in the woman's ear and pointed her to someone further up the road.
As she left, Rogers spoke in a hushed whisper. "The Merchant Guild is marching the Green Belt residents toward the river. Do you know where they are taking them?" Rogers wondered if Larsen had some insane desire to take over the Green Belt for a palace or something and was forcibly relocating the Harvest Guild members to the Flats.
Killian's face was set in a grim frown. "Afraid not, sir, but you are right. Even with the distraction of the fires, it is clear the Merchants have something in mind for the Harvest Guild members. It would not surprise me if they plan on moving hundreds of families."
"Could they be moving them to the Flats?"
Killian shrugged. "We should send someone to look. I would go, but my best days are behind me." Without waiting for a reply from Rogers, Killian called out, "Feros!" A young boy, probably as new to the guild as Ralan, ran up.
"Captain Rogers has a mission for you." Killian turned to Rogers.
"I need you to travel toward the Great River and follow one of the Harvest Family groups being marched away by the Merchants. They are being forcibly relocated, and I want to know where they are taking them. When you find out, I want you to find a fast running guild mate and have him or her take a message to the Black Tower, telling the Guildmaster or Deputy Guildmaster what is happening--the Merchant Guild is attacking the Harvest Guild and marching them as prisoners to whatever destination you find out. Then you return to me here and tell me what you've discovered."
"Yes, Captain!" and without even awaiting a dismissal, the young man named Feros was off.
While waiting for the scout to return, Rogers put all his efforts into containing the fires. It was at that moment that he realized something he should have caught earlier--the Knights were in league with the Merchants. The fires in the Flats were either burnt out or under control and yet there were no members of the Fire Protectors fighting the flames in the Green Belt. The wagons with the pumps that shot water, the large buckets and teams of people to douse the flames with them--all of the materials that would help get the Green Belt fires under control--were missing.
As an ember set fire to yet another straw roof, Rogers felt a hand roughly grabbing his sleeve. As he turned in anger, he saw that it was Feros. "Feros! What have you found?"
The young boy looked stunned. "The Merchant Guild is marching the Harvest Guild members over the Great Bridge and forcing them into the Old Quarter." Feros looked stricken. "Hundreds of people, Captain. Hundreds. They are going to overrun the Old Quarter. There are too many for us to turn back by force!"
Rogers grabbed the boy's shoulders. "Did you send a messenger to the Black Tower?" The boy nodded. "Then you did good, Feros. Thank you." Rogers wondered what would happen next. The fires would finally die out, but the anger of the Harvest Guild never would.
Turning back to Feros, Rogers asked, "How fresh are your legs. Can you make it to Maas in the Flats?"
"Yes, sir. I am winded but will recover soon enough."
"Good, as soon as you can, go find Maas. Tell him that he has a new mission. He is to no longer prepare for fighting fires." Rogers shook his head as he said the words. "He is to prepare for civil war."
9
A Dagger Thrown
As he made his way to Pattis' nondescript office on the third floor of Merchant Tower, Karch tried to make sense of what he had just heard. There were a lot of reasons that Larsen's plan was awful, but the one that worried him the most wasn't necessarily the most catastrophic--Orion's participation. He didn't trust Orion at all. Orion had a reputation as a bumbling good-natured guildmaster, one who was good at managing details but not very smart if confronted with problems. Yet Karch had an inkling that there was more there than met the eye.
One reason was that Karch knew Orion had a Blade, and Karch was never able to find out who it was and what he did. Someone bumbling like Orion wouldn't have such an effectively hidden Blade. It made Karch think that Orion was hiding his resources and maneuverings better than anyone expected. Perhaps it wasn't true, but the possibility was extremely worrisome.
The other concerns were obvious and Karch couldn't even comprehend how stupid Larsen was for thinking they would succeed. Imprisoning the leading families of the Harvest Guild in the Flats and Lower Triangle? That was a recipe for violence. As Karch returned, he had smelled the fires and been told that the Ironside and Grell families were in the dungeon. Did Larsen not realize that those families had influence that stretched into other guilds and deep into the Upper Quarter?
He reached Pattis' office, and he knew what his first question was going to be. Throwing the door open, Karch marched in, not even bothering to knock or announce himself. Pattis was asleep on his couch. Walking over, Karch prepared to kick the man's leg to wake him when a dagger zipped past his ear and lodged in a wooden column near his head.
"By the gods, Pattis, it's me, Karch!"
The Blade had thrown his dagger from his side, and as Karch regained his composure Pattis sat up. "If I didn't know it was you, you'd be dead."
"Then why did you throw it at all?" Karch thought he had a good relationship with Pattis, who was similarly ruthless as Karch and also in alignment on utilizing Larsen to get ahead.
Pattis shrugged. "Teach you some manners." Pattis nodded toward the chair next to his couch. "Welcome back. How'd it go?"
Shaking his head, Karch walked over and sat down. "The Outlanders attacked us. Philip and his team are dead."
"Surprised you aren't dead, frankly. That was a fool's errand."
Karch generally liked Pattis' bluntness, but in this instance his "I know better than you" attitude was tiresome. Folding his hands in his lap with exaggerated formality, Karch replied, "Speaking of fool's errands, the guildmaster told me to get an update from you on his delightful new plan." Karch used a sarcastic tone but was careful not to out-and-out say anything negative. He needed to see if Pattis was as deluded as Larsen.
"Much better than I expected, frankly. I scouted the Flats and Lower Triangle, and then we removed the families that would organize a resistance, setting fires to distract them. It worked better than I thought. The sight of their family homes burning to the ground thoroughly demoralized them."
Karch stared at Pattis. He couldn't quite believe that the Blade seemed to be going along with the plan. "And we are currently relocating people to the Wretched Quarter?"
"Yes."
"How is that going?"
Pattis shrugged. "Lots of confusion. People think it's related to the fires. The Knight Protectors are staying out of the way, so the Guildmaster Knight is obviously on board. The Guildmaster Craft hasn't said anything either." Pattis stood up and walked across the room. "Larsen has things under control. As I said, it's going better than I expected."
Karch watched as Pattis retrieved his dagger from the column and returned it to a sheathe at his waist. "Do you have anyone watching the Upper Triangle?"
Pattis paused midway to his seat and squinted at Karch. "No, why?"
Karch closed his eyes and took a breath. He could not believe what he was hearing. "What about the Harvest District? We are forcibly moving out Harvest Guild members. Please tell me that you have someone keeping an eye on the Harvest District."
Still staring at Karch, Pattis continued to his couch. "No. What are you getting at, Karch? Larsen told me to take care of the Flats and the Lower Triangle. He said nothing of the Upper Triangle or the Har
vest District."
Slamming his fist into the arm of his chair, Karch could not hold his anger and concern back any longer. "Pattis, you realize that the Harvest Guild has guards that live in the Harvest District? They have guild members in the mines and in the fields that could easily march down and wipe out our forces? This is not about eliminating a problem in the Lower Quarter or the Flats." Pattis had sat down, but he seemed unconcerned, even casual, which made Karch angrier. "Civil war, Pattis. I'm talking civil war!"
Pattis shrugged. "We have the Knight and Craft Guilds on our side. With over half their members in the Wretched Quarter, we can put them down easily."
"Easily? Even if we do put down a rebellion from the Outer Fields and the Mines, you realize that people will die and that cleaning up this mess will take years? The absolute best case scenario is that Larsen takes over the Harvest Guild by force, and his leadership of Ness will be under constant threat from those that grow our food and mine our coal."
"Honestly, Karch, I think the Outlanders must have scared you. Sure, this may get a bit bloody, but the end game looks pretty clear to me, and we have all the pieces in place."
All the pieces in place? Karch didn't bother pointing out that every piece south of the North Fork appeared to be out-of-place. This is why you don't put Blades in charge of anything, Karch thought. With very few options, Karch decided to do his best to minimize the damage from Larsen's disastrous plan. "Okay, Pattis. You have the pieces in place. Larsen asked me to take over the planning. What is happening now, and what do you have planned next?"