The Burning City (The Guildmaster Thief Book 2)

by Jake Kerr

  "Be safe, Deputy Guildmaster," Rogers said as he turned and returned to the group limping toward the Pit Wall behind the houses. With one last glance he looked over his shoulder.

  Alard stood like a statue in front of the pile of dead, facing the end of the lane where the Knights would approach. He appeared like nothing more than Death, preparing to add more trophies to the growing pile behind him. Rogers shuddered, not sure whether he should worry about Alard or feel sorry for the approaching Knights.

  24

  Greeting the Refugees

  Ralan made his way over to the Bridge. The flow of refugees showed no signs of abating. Are they clearing the entire Lower Quarter, Ralan thought. It seemed impossible. There were so many people that mobilizing everyone seemed unlikely. But the real thing that seemed impossible to Ralan was that the Harvest Guild members would just blindly follow a command to leave their homes. Were the fires that frightening?

  "Hey, I know you!" Ralan looked down as a boy about Ralan's age stared up at him on his horse. Philos edged forward on his horse, keeping a wary eye on the boy, who was a bedraggled Harvest Guild member, clearly following the masses of his guildmates to the Old Quarter.

  "Do you?" The boy didn't look at all familiar to Ralan.

  "You are the guildless one who always told the stories at the Four Triangles about causing mischief with the Merchant Guild." The boy nodded his head. "Yes. You are Larsen's brother!"

  The reminder of his past made Ralan toss his head back and laugh. It wasn't even that long ago that he lived that life, running around with kids of various guilds and getting into trouble. "Yes! My life is different now, but I did cause my share of trouble." Ralan leaned down. "What is your name?"

  "Gil," the boy replied as his face scrunched up in thought. "I heard you took over for old Pietro. Are you a thief?"

  "We should go, sir," Philos whispered from the back of his horse. Ralan looked around, and a group of the Harvest Guild refugees were gathering around them. They were surrounded in a pool of Green and Ralan could tell why Philos was nervous. Although they were on large horses, there was no easy escape or any other guildmembers to help.

  Ralan replied by holding up his hand to Philos and answering Gil. "Yes. My rotten brother made me the Guildmaster Thief." Ralan smiled and spread his arms. "But as you can see it turns out that old Pietro was not just a kind and gentle man, he was the leader of a kind and gentle guild, as you will all see soon."

  The boy looked unimpressed, which only made Ralan like him more. "Well, I don't much like thieves, but you tell good stories and if you can get back at your brother for burning the Flats I won't be too upset over all the stealing you thieves do."

  It was the second time that Ralan was confronted by Harvest Guild members with the belief that Thieves were evil, stealing from others. He was tempted to explain to Gil and the crowd milling about them that Thieves were not evil and didn't steal for personal gain, but it would be but a like trying to damn the great river with a pebble. The actions behind Ralan would stop the river of anger more than anything he could say.

  Changing tack, Ralan smiled and asked, "How is the old Four Triangles?"

  The boy frowned. "Burnt to the ground."

  "No!" Ralan considered that he finally could get some insight on what was happening in the Lower Quarter. "How bad are the fires?"

  At the question the boy's visage turned from curiosity to anger. "They are bad."

  An older man shouted, "The Merchants set them! They have burned down Ironsides, and the entire street of Inns near the river."

  Another voice, even angrier. "Yes. They have purposely destroyed our history and our homes!"

  Angry murmurs turned into shouts of "Revenge!" and "Betrayal" and "War!" and several other words that gave voice to the simmering anger of the citizens whose lives had been ruined.

  Philos edged his horse forward, and people fell back, Shouts started to increase in volume when Ralan stood up in his saddle and raised his voice. "Your pleas are being heard. Keep moving and find shelter and food. We will prepare to make things right!"

  "Larsen must die" a voice from the distance yelled out.

  Ralan nodded grimly. "We will restore your homes and justice will be served." He didn't specifically address Larsen, but the crowd appeared to like what he was saying, as the mumbled in agreement.

  Returning his attention to Gil, Ralan asked, "And what of the Lower Triangle?"

  The boy shrugged, but a woman nearby yelled out, "I am from the Lower Triangle. It is awful. They have burned the Green Belt, and there are rumors of fires approaching Traders Bridge."

  Ralan had heard of the Green Belt fires, but fires making it all the way to Traders Bridge was new to him. He wasn't sure how much was rumor and what was fact, but the reality was that scores of people were fleeing the Lower Quarter, so something was happening.

  "Guildmaster, the crowds are blocking the Bridge." Philos pointed at the Great Bridge.

  The crowd around Ralan had grown large enough in size that the refugees approaching from the bridge had to slow or even stop. Nodding, Ralan yelled out, "Keep going. You will find friends here. The Thieves were never about stealing from you. They were about stealing from them!" Ralan pointed across the bridge to the burning city beyond.

  Not waiting to see how his message was received, he sat down in his saddle and slowly turned Kalisto back to the center of the Old Quarter. As he and Philos made their way, Ralan considered the future. He could see no way forward without declaring outright war on Larsen and the Merchant Guild.

  A civil war would lead to countless deaths. The Thieves and Harvest Guilds had strengths in numbers, and they had two bases of operations that were strong and defensible--the Old Quarter and the Fields and Harvest District. Furthermore, the wealthy members of the Merchant Guild lived in the Upper Triangle, which was within easy striking distance of the Harvest Guild.

  Yet, Larsen had Saxe and the Knight Guild on his side, and they manned the Wall and were more heavily armed and capable of unleashing death from a distance with the archers of the White Guard. It would be a horrific war.

  As they cleared the large groups of refugees, Ralan turned to head back to the Thief Tower. Rather than canter, he continued to follow a light trot while Philos kept pace. "What do you know of Saxe?" Ralan assumed that Philos, like Alard, was a former Knight.

  Peering at Ralan for an oddly long time, Philos finally replied, "Enough."

  "Why do you think he is supporting Larsen? What drives him? Do you think we could convince him to join our side?"

  Philos' reaction surprised Ralan. He laughed. "You assume Saxe has joined any side. He is a cruel man who cares about nothing more than battle. Where the battle lives doesn't matter--the Outlanders, Thieves, renegade guilds. He doesn't care. He just wants to prove his might over everyone."

  Ralan thought over Philos' comments. "So are you saying he would actually be happy if we had a civil war?"

  "Only if he got to see his men leave a trail of dead behind them. He obviously wants to operate from a position of power, but beyond that I think all he wants is victory defined by the field of battle."

  "This makes no sense," Ralan replied. "So all he wants is violence with no end?"

  "Otherwise he serves no purpose," Philos replied.

  "But he defends the Walls and protects the streets!"

  "Meaningless to him. The Rangers are the true defenders of Ness." Philos shook his head. "What do you know of Executioner's Hollow?"

  Ralan had heard Alard speak of it and perhaps others. It was where the Knights executed Thieves, but beyond that he had no idea of what it meant. "Not much more than that is where the Knights execute the Thieves."

  "No. It is where Saxe lives out his fantasies." Philos said no more, and Ralan could tell from the tone of his voice that Philos considered it the final comment needed for the conversation.

  Yet Ralan had thought of something, and it began with Philos' comment about Saxe needing to prove his mig
ht. "If given the choice between fighting the Outlanders and killing Harvest Guild members as they are swept into the Old Quarter, which do you think he would embrace?"

  Philos replied with a wide smile. "Guildmaster, are you asking me that if the Outlanders had somehow decided now was a good time to invade, would Saxe no longer concern himself with Larsen as an ally?"

  "The thought is indeed crossing my mind."

  "Well, the only thing Saxe enjoys more than killing Thieves is killing Outlanders." Ralan was going to thank his personal guard for his insight, but before he could Philos added, "But you can ask Alard about that."

  Alard. Outlanders. Saxe. Just when Ralan felt like he had a sliver of an opportunity it got complicated again. He kicked Kalisto to a canter, and continued to his tower, wondering if the key to saving Ness was inviting Wilhelm to invade it.

  25

  Pietro’s Books

  They hadn't even crossed the Great Bridge before they had to pay their first bribe. It was also the moment Raef learned of a new phrase--"handing it." When Knights stopped a Merchant or other guild wagon, they would inspect the goods and take a handful.

  Whatever it was, the amount that could be grabbed with one hand was the property of the Knight.

  Of course, a handful of coppers was one thing, a handful of guilders was something else entirely, and when the Knight that stopped them saw the money in the chest he practically tripped trying to get his hand into it so fast.

  After that first hand, Tillson gave Raef an overview of bribery. It happened all the time. There were certain unspoken rules, one of the most important being that you only took one handful. Greedy Knights were labeled "two handers," and they somehow found themselves re-assigned or demoted. The unspoken rules presumably having real consequences.

  The situation was so ingrained that Knights with large hands were teased about being perfect for guarding the thoroughfares where expensive goods were transported. At that Raef laughed. "So the worst thing a Merchant can face is a two hander with large hands!"

  Tillson nodded, "Yet it is the guildmaster Thief who trails the Founders Day parade." The reminder of the filth and abuse his friend Ralan was subjected to made Raef somber. They were thieves, yes, but they weren't two handers.

  Practically every Knight on their route to the Merchant Tower must have eyed them as a mark, as they were stopped and inspected by everyone, with each knight dipping his hand into the chest.

  After yet another stop, Raef muttered, "This is ridiculous. We will have nothing left by the time we get to Merchant Tower."

  Tillson replied in a whisper. "It is how we had hoped it would go. They are leaving us alone and focused on the chest. The guilders are the price of our mission. It is money well spent."

  Raef felt embarrassed. He was no good at anything other than doing what Ralan told him to do and looking through dusty books. Of course, Tillson was right. The money didn't matter as much as him getting the books, and they were closing in on doing just that.

  At the next stop, Raef ignored the chest and focused on the Knight. He was large and ominous, with a thin mouth and a cruel looking his eyes. He was exactly the kind of Knight that would ruin their mission by asking difficult questions or demanding they justify their trip with names of superiors. Yet, the Knight reached out his hand like all the others.

  Is this what we've come to? Raef thought. Our defenders ignore threats in the name of taking their handful. In some ways, Raef had hoped that the Knights would confront he and Tillson, but as they rolled up to Merchant Tower, none had.

  This was the part that Raef feared the most. With the assassination threats on Larsen, he expected that getting into Merchant Tower would be nigh impossible. He also wasn't sure if the Merchant Guild guards were open to bribery. Raef whispered to Tillson, "Will they take a handful?"

  Shaking his head, Tillson replied, "Best to assume not, but I don't know. I don't get to the Tower."

  Tillson lifted the chest off the wagon and placed it on a small hand-pulled cart that had been stored in the front of the horse-driven wagon. The two of them walked right to the gate. A guard immediately came out to meet them.

  "Who are you, and what is this?" The man addressed Raef and nodded toward the cart.

  "This was collected from the Harvest Guild members in the Wretched Quarter, and we are to return it to the guild stores." Raef smiled as he nodded at the chest. "They won't need it any more."

  The guard walked over to Tillson. "Open it up." Here comes the handful, Raef thought as Tillson opened the chest. Yet the guard surprised him and turned back to Raef. "I have heard nothing of this. Who do you report to?"

  Raef had a story ready. "I don't know. It was one of the guards on the bridge. He noticed a Harvest Guild member passing money to a friend, and he told me to go in and collect it from them to return it to the guild. I was just dragging people to the bridge to help. I handle a shop in the Flats and was told to shut down and prepare for this a few days ago."

  The guard nodded but added, "And they just gave it to you?" He sounded suspicious.

  Raef shrugged. "They appeared to be in shock. They had just left their homes, so I guess being asked to hand back their money made sense."

  "I'll take this in. You two can return to... whatever it is you're doing." The guard reached for the cart handle.

  Tillson glanced at Raef, unclear what to do. Raef held up his hand. "We will need the cart. Can we walk with you while you take the chest in and then perhaps get a bit to eat before returning?"

  The guard seemed hesitant, but as he glanced at the pile of money in the chest, he finally nodded. "You did a good job. Bring the money in to our store room to the right of the entrance. The kitchens are back there. You can leave the cart outside the store room and then pick it up on your way out."

  Practically dancing as they walked the cart into the Tower, Raef could not believe how well things were going. All he and Tillson had to do was grab the books in Pietro's room and then get out.

  Raef had expected that the guard was stealing the money, but he actually did store it in a locked room away from the entrance. They left the cart out front, and said goodbye, heading to the kitchens.

  The stairway to Pietro's room was on the way to the kitchens so everything was even better than he had hoped. With the guard gone, they quickly found the door Ralan had described and made their way down the steps. It led to an abandoned hall that was dusty yet tidy. There were blood stains near the bottom of the staircase.

  At the end of the hallway was an open door with an upended stool and more bloodstains next to it. Raef walked into the room with more excitement than he had every experienced in his life. Finally, the history of the Thieves Guild!

  The room had been ransacked, with books tossed onto the floor and everything in disarray. But it appeared that none of the books were stolen. They were just tossed aside as worthless, more of interest for what they may have hidden behind on the bookshelf.

  Raef opened one at random. It was a ledger of supplies from years earlier. Line after line of entries outlining clothes, supplies, and food. Raef wasn't sure what it meant, but he knew it was important. A thick book covered in dust was titled Magic Guild Iconography. Magic Guild? Raef thought. These should be about the Thieves Guild.

  "Sir, we need to hurry. These are a lot of books, and it will require many trips to the wagon to gather them all."

  Nodding, Raef grabbed a handful of books and marched them up to the cart. After six trips, the cart was full enough that they needed to empty it into the wagon and then return for more books.

  Trouble hit the moment the exited the Guild. A different guard came over and asked them what they were up to.

  Raef replied immediately. "These were gathering dust, and Deputy Guildmaster Karch told us to take them to the library in the Upper Triangle. I believe he has other uses for the storage space."

  At the mention of both Karch and the word "books," the guard lost all interest and replied, "Well, hurry up. This e
ntrance is secure, and we can't have you leaving and entering all afternoon."

  "Only two more trips!" Raef replied, but the guard had already turned his back on them.

  The process had gone surprisingly well until they passed through the gate for the last time. The last pile of books was on the cart, and Pietro's quarters was empty. All they had to do was get to the wagon and depart. Raef wasn't even worried about the one handers on the return trip--no one in Ness other than him cared about books.

  They had just passed through the gate when a hand gripped Raef roughly on the arm. "What do you think you are doing?" Raef spun around. It was the guard that they had first met when they arrived at the tower.

  Not missing a beat, Raef smoothly replied, "We were eating in the Kitchen when Deputy Karch came down and asked how had the cart. When I replied, he assigned me to clear out these books from the basement. I guess he needs to use the storage for something else."

  "Who are you? You can't be thieves with the money you left. What is your interest in these books?" The guard reached down and picked one up.

  "I told you, it is a job from Deputy Karch."

  "Deputy Karch left the tower earlier today." The guard's voice was ominous. "I will ask you one last time. What are you doing with these--"

  The guard's voice was muffled as Tillson covered his mouth with his hand. I was expecting the guard to violently fight back until he fell in a heap at my feet. Tillson wiped a dagger on his blue cloak and sheathed it.

  "Hurry," was the only word he spoke. We were lucky in that the guard was between the cart and our wagon and was mostly hidden from view. I quickly loaded the last of the books on the wagon, while Tillson took the tarp that had covered the chest and draped it over the body of the guard.