The Burning City (The Guildmaster Thief Book 2)

by Jake Kerr

  "The Thieves have always looked out for the poor and undefended in Ness. Our guild motto is 'We take so we can give.' Our members include a large number of those that are Harvest Guild members that are too poor to feed or shelter themselves. We do that for members of every guild."

  "Impossible!" a very old man directly across the table from Ralan exclaimed. "There are none in our guild so poor as to need the assistance of thieves!"

  Before Ralan could reply, Coode raised a finger. "If I may, Guildmaster."

  "By all means," Ralan replied.

  "You are Simpson, are you not?" The old man nodded. "You were almost taken by the Merchants." It was a statement, not a question, and Coode continued. "It is because your family has long managed the roads in the Flats, correct? You have the respect of everyone for your visible efforts." The man nodded, looking suspicious. "It is an honorable job, and one with a certain level of gratitude." Coode paused, allowing Simpson an opening to interrupt, which he did.

  "Without our efforts the streets would be impassable! We clear the broken wheels, the dead horses, the garbage. We repair the stones. We work with our guild mates in the mines and place new stones." Coode was about to speak, but Simpson continued. "And for those that wonder why we are in the Harvest Guild when we clean and repair, it is due to our rich history. We managed the the dirt roads in the Outer Fields when the Craft Guild couldn't be bothered." He crossed his arms. "Our pay is modest, but we do important work."

  "I could not agree more," Coode replied, "So let me ask you of your brothers in the Night Guild." The Night Guild. Ralan remembered Maela mentioning them when they were traveling through the sewers. They were a guild that lived in the Old Quarter. And with a dawning comprehension, Ralan realized what Coode was doing.

  "The sewer cleaners?" Ralan could sense the disdain in the old man's voice.

  "The Harvest Guild members," Coode replied. "They are paid too little to afford housing in the Flats. They live here." Coode waved behind him and out the window into the Old Quarter behind him. "We provide them with shelter and food." Coode leaned forward. "While they provide you with clean sewers and water."

  Simpson stared at Coode but didn't reply.

  "So we take so we can give," Ralan stated. "There are other guild members that live here that we care for. Craftsmen who spend their days doing little more than cutting leather into strips before walking across the Great Bridge to their home here. Knights that clean the Knight Tower for little benefit beyond what we provide them." Ralan shook his head. "The only guild without need of our help is the Merchants."

  Mumbling filled the room, as Ralan had expected. Everyone hated the Merchants. "So here we are. You may ask questions, but for now all I can say is that we will provide you with homes and food. I do not know what will happen next, but I believe you are secure."

  An older woman raised her hand. "Yes, and what is your name?" Ralan asked.

  "Carol Miller." Ralan smiled. She shared his last name. He wondered if she was related to him through some distant relative. "I would like to help our Guildmaster. I believe he will make things right. Does he know of our plight and what can we do to help?"

  "It is a difficult question to answer. I have sent someone to warn Polo of events, but he is impossible to reach in Harvest House. You can be sure he is aware of what is going on, and he is preparing to fight back somehow."

  "So this is civil war?" It was the first man who had spoken. "The Merchants said that this was all Polo's fault, and that all we had to do was reject him as guildmaster and our homes would be returned." Ralan suddenly understood Larsen's plan. It was an absurd one--he was threatening war unless the guild rejected Polo. Why would he remotely think that blackmail would work?

  "It is too soon to say it will be war, but it is possible." Ralan turned to Dirk. "Captain Dirk, can you outline our defenses?"

  "Yes, Guildmaster." Dirk continued in a matter-of-fact and precise manner. "The Wall is only vulnerable from the top, and we have blocked the access over the Great River many years ago. Any attack will have to be via a small gap, and it is very well defended. It will be extremely bloody for the Knights to try and take us that way. The Great Bridge is not only tight and difficult to attack over, we are prepared to destroy it if need be." A gasp went through the room. The Great Bridge, nearly a mile in length and towering over the Great River, was second only to the Great Wall as Ness' greatest achievement. "The wall along our bank of the River provide us with formidable defenses from an invasion via ships. The Thieves Gate is probably unknown to the Knights, but even if they knew of it, it is a suicide mission to attack with our control of the Wall."

  "I'm more interested in how quickly Guildmaster Polo can smash the Merchants," grumbled Simpson.

  Ralan looked at Dirk, who shrugged. "The Tower is strong and behind the North Fork, the Wall, and the Great River. Your guild has strength in numbers but don't have control of the Wall. It is achievable. An attack from the West via the Great Gate and coming from the Outer Fields is a possibility. Taking the Wall via the Knight Watch is also possible." Dirk ran his hand through his hair. "Guildmaster Polo's greatest asset is that the entire Upper Triangle is at the mercy of Harvest House. He could burn down and destroy the Merchant's old and wealthy houses with ease, causing a grievous blow." Dirk nodded. "It was the largest of Larsen's many blunders." Peering at Simpson, Dirk asked pointedly, "The question is whether Polo is as vicious as Larsen."

  There was a knock on the door, and Ralan nodded to Philos, who went to answer it. All eyes were on the mighty guard, as he listened to a low voice and then returned to Ralan. Leaning down, he whispered into Ralan's ear.

  Ralan's eyes went wide, and then he took a deep breath. "There has been a surprising and important development." Ralan looked around the table, taking in the face of each Harvest Guild member. "Larsen is dead, and Karch is missing. Keres, Orion's nephew, is the new Guildmaster Merchant."

  "Orion is a good man!" Simpson said, a large smile on his face. Positive whispering could be heard around the table.

  "There is more," Ralan stated. As every face turned to him, Ralan steeled himself to deliver the news, which he knew would put the future of the Thieves Guild in great jeopardy.

  32

  A History Revealed

  Raef was petrified when the first Knight stopped them. What if he one-handed a few books, and those books contained the secret of the Thieves Guild? And if they were stopped a few times, and each Knight took a few books? By the time they returned to the Thieves Tower, he may have nothing left to research.

  "Hold!" A Knight held up his hand as Tillson attempted to navigate down the Throughway past the Green Belt and to the Great Bridge. Raef's heart fell.

  "State your business," the knight exclaimed as he eyed the wagon up and down.

  "Guildmaster Larsen has cleared out one of the rooms in the basement of the Tower, and we are to take this junk to the Old Quarter and dump it."

  Raef was shocked at Tillson's words. Why would he state something so easily proven false? The books were out in the open and easy to see in the back of the wagon.

  The guard looked in the back of the wagon, grabbed some books, and then tossed them further into the back of the wagon. He moved some more books. Ralan's heart fell. Was the guard looking for the most valuable books to one-hand?

  "All you have is books?" The guard sounded disappointed, almost angry. Tillson nodded. "Bah. Come back when you have something valuable." The guard waved them on, leaving all the books where they lay.

  When they were out of earshot, Raef exclaimed, "He didn't take any books!"

  "Of course not. I doubt there's a Knight in Ness that even knows how to read."

  "But certainly he knows that they have value."

  Tillson laughed. "Books have no value to anyone but you, Raef. They are more likely to be seen as effective kindling than a way to learn."

  Raef shook his head, not quite believing Tillson's appraisal of the value of the books. Certainly Raef kne
w from his experience in the Flats that no one read books and that books pretty much didn't exist outside the library, where they were nothing but a curiosity, but he still considered that the historical value would generate some attention, if nothing else.

  Yet as they were stopped again and again, the Knights who stopped them muttered in disappointment and let them pass without one-handing a single book. By the time they reached the Great Bridge, Raef was downright angry.

  "Don't they realize how important these books are? These may contain the secret to everything."

  "They clearly don't, and let's be thankful for that."

  "You are right." Raef sighed. "I will be more thankful, however, once I'm in my library and looking through these pages."

  The crowds had thinned to barely a trickle, and it was an easy ride across the bridge and through the Old Quarter. Raef watched as a large number of people in green tunics and robes wandered around. Some were doing domestic duties, falling into the normalcy of gathering water, going off for food, and running various errands. Others were out discovering their new home, looking at every building with looks of awe or curiosity. Couples walked hand-in-hand, making the best of their sad situation.

  It wasn't until the road curved toward the Thieves Tower that those dressed in Black started to become more numerous, although there were Harvest Guild members even as they approached the Wall, far from the Great Bridge.

  Raef squinted into the distance. It was astonishing how well hidden the Thieves Tower was, its black rock blended so well with the mountain behind it that even this close he had to look twice to clearly see its outline.

  They pulled up to the Tower, and one of the stable boys came out. As he untethered the horse, Raef walked back to look at his books. He picked one up and couldn't believe the title--The Baros Treaty. He had read bits and pieces about the treaty in other books. It was a treaty between Gaotteland and Ness, but he didn't know much more than that.

  Paging through the book, Raef found chapters on its effect on trade, its lasting impact on the State Guild, and even at the back a complete copy of the treaty itself. Putting the book down, he grabbed another. The Guildmaster Thief, which was a book that had a chapter on every Guildmaster Thief, going back to the guild's origin. He turned to the front, and there was the first Guildmaster Thief, a woman named Cora, who wore a long ethereal red dress, one that looks like it was made of liquid cloth.

  Wait, the wizards were the guild that wore red. Raef was about to start reading when Tillson cleared his throat. "Sir, I have help here to take the books up to the library. Do you want to rest or get some dinner while we take them up?"

  "Yes. That's a good idea." Raef placed the book back with the others. "Please take great care. These are extremely valuable. There is a shelf to the rear on the left of the library. I've left it empty for these books." Raef looked over the pile in the wagon. "But there are more than I anticipated. So if there are more than fit on the shelves place them on my work table."

  "As you wish, sir."

  Raef went off to the Tower kitchen. He was suddenly very hungry, and he wanted to build up as much energy as he could. He anticipated not sleeping for a long time.

  As he walked into the library, it was clear that those storing the books had no understanding of organization. Large and small books were next to each other, and the topics were ignored, with no order at all. A group of books that looked more like accounting records were next to thick books on masonry.

  Raef decided that the first thing he had to do was organize the books, so that his studies could be more efficient. In addition, he could get a better idea as to what treasures he had as he went through them and placed them on the shelves.

  The first thing that struck him was the enormous variety of the books. He couldn't figure out Pietro's method for deciding which books to keep with him and which to leave back at the Thieves Tower. There were books on science--weather patterns, the stars in the sky, minerals, books on crafts and design--clothes, boats, and weapon-crafting, and even books on the flora and fauna of the hills and mountains.

  Most of the books, however, were nothing more than accounting ledgers, with detailed accounts of every single thing the Thieves had stolen, and where they were distributed. Dozens of book going back centuries with thousands of lines with a date, what was stolen, and what it was used for.

  Raef took a glance at the final book, which had entries up until Pietro's death. It was empty from that date onward, and Raef put the book aside to give to Ralan. He knew Ralan would continue the practice, if for no other reason than to honor his dozens of predecessors.

  Thinking of Ralan's predecessors brought Raef's attention back to a stack of books that he had put aside on his work table as important and worthy of immediate attention. There were about a dozen books, and they included books of maps, missing histories, detailed descriptions of foreign cities, and a book titled Guilds of Ness, which included an overview of important guilds that Raef had only seen mentions of, including the State Guild.

  But there were three books that he was most interested in reading. One was the previously examined Guildmaster Thief--the biographical history of every Guildmaster Thief. To Raef's shock, he saw that it was written by Pietro, himself. The second book was a book entitled A History of Norania and Surrounding Lands. The first two pages were a spread of a map of the land surrounding Ness. It extended further to the north and south than the other map he had seen. The final book was the one he planned to tackle first: It was the one book he had wanted more than any other, and here it was in his hand:

  The Origins and Mission of the Thieves Guild

  Raef wanted to relish opening the book. He called down for wine and a fresh candle, while he finished filing the other books, many of which drew his attention. It was a wealth of information he doubted he could get through in a full year.

  Finally, he sat down in his favorite reading chair, took a long drink of wine, and opened the book. The first page was a short introduction, written by some Guildmaster Thief that Raef had never heard of. The first line confirmed every unconscious suspicion Raef had about his guild, and it was still so shocking he almost dropped the book.

  The Thieves Guild was born the day the Magic Guild died.

  33

  A Plan Revealed

  Maela appeared to only have bruised ribs, although her shoulder was a mess. She had trouble lifting even light things above her shoulder even two weeks later. Sitting at the dining table, Maela lifted a fork with her arm while Darla had her back to her while cutting some greens in the kitchen. It didn't hurt, but she couldn't lift the knife above her shoulder.

  Knowing that it meant that she was most likely permanently injured, Maela tossed the knife to the table with a clatter, and covered her eyes with her right hand. A moment later she felt a hand take her hand and squeeze it.

  "I can be your arm," Darla said, love and concern in her voice, which only made Maela's tears fall in greater quantities.

  "My arm can't even cover my tears," Maela said, sniffing and wiping her eyes, trying to restore the strength she liked to project, even to Darla.

  Sitting down, Darla rubbed Maela's damaged shoulder. "I have something to show you." Maela looked up at her, but Darla looked serious and not sympathetic. "Hold up your right hand."

  Maela hesitantly held up her hand. Without warning, Darla swung a punch at Maela, aiming directly for her hand. The fist struck Maela's hand with a slap and moved it back a few inches, but Maela withstood the punch easily.

  "You stopped an attack!" Darla said. "Now I have been rendered helpless, and you are holding a horse with your left hand. Pull me to my feet!" Darla slid out of the chair to the floor.

  "Darla, this is point--"

  "Save me!"

  Maela reached down with her right hand and easily pulled Darla to her feet. Darla was bigger than Maela and had built back her muscles during their time in the cabin. In fact Maela was slightly shocked. They had been naked together, but Maela had n
ot realized how strong Darla was. She could feel it in her arm as she clenched Darla's hand, pulling her up.

  Still, as solid as Darla was, Maela lifted her off the floor. "I know what you are doing," Maela said. Darla ignored her, and without letting go of Maela's hand, pulled her to a standing position.

  "Follow me," she said, tugging on Maela's hand. Maela followed as Darla led her out the back of the cabin. She led Maela to a single tree that stood in the clearing. It was not part of the magical forest that surrounded the cabin, and Darla had carved a rough target in the side of the bark. She used it as target practice for the kitchen knives that Maela had been grinding into perfectly weighted throwing knives for her.

  Letting go of Maela's hand, Darla marched over to the tree, pulled out a knife, and strode back to Maela. "Throw it."

  Clenching her jaw, Maela replied, "I'm not a master at throwing knives. That is your thing. Besides, you know I can't." Maela rubbed her wounded shoulder.

  "By the gods, Maela, you are not stupid. You are not weak. Why do you look at your problems without the mind you used as a Thief?" Darla shoved her hand against Maela's right arm. "Throw it."

  Maela lifted her arm, attempting to do an overhand throw, the type that had both power and accuracy. She couldn't lift the knife above her shoulder and turned to Darla.

  Crossing her arms, Darla looked angry as she emphatically said, "Throw it."

  Maela looked at the tree and half-heartedly tossed the knife at it from a side angle. It missed the tree entirely.

  Darla marched over, picked up the knife, walked back, and handed it Maela. "Very good. Throw it again."

  After starting with what was half-hearted throws to make Darla happy, Maela's attitude changed when she hit the target and the knife stuck in the tree. With real joy, she leapt up and shouted, "I hit the damn thing!" Darla ran over and gave her a hug.