The Burning City (The Guildmaster Thief Book 2)

by Jake Kerr

  "When I first escaped the guardian, what saved me was seeing the grass depress without anything stepping upon it. If we look for something like that as we approach, we should be able to prepare for the guardian before it attacks us."

  Darla turned back up the lane. "So sharp observation is critical."

  Maela nodded and the two of them moved forward slowly, examine the path in the distance with each step.

  Maela noticed it first. Grabbing Darla's arm, she stopped her and whispered, "There!" She pointed down the lane to the edge of the path.

  "I don't see anything different about the path," Darla whispered.

  "It's not the path. Look at the brush on the side of the path." Maela saw it clearly--a gap in the brush that wasn't at all natural--it was bent over and crushed in a spot a few feet wide.

  Darla was squinting but then her eyes went wide. "I see it!"

  Maela pulled out her axe, while Darla didn't need to be asked and pulled out a large thin sack, which was bulging at weakly sewn seams leaking a white powder. With her good eye at hurling knives, the thought was that she would be the better choice at hurling the flour.

  "Keep an eye on the grass. I'll shout if I see anything, and you do the same. The moment you have an idea of its location, throw the flour at it." Darla nodded after Maela's whispered instructions.

  The crept forward, staring at the grass. The good news was that the grass was high and not beaten down at all. If the guardian approached, they would have some warning. Maela glanced at the gap in the brush, as it continued to make her nervous, when Darla's bag of flour flew through the air while Darla yelled out, "There it is!"

  Maela crouched and followed Darla's pointed finger. Rushing toward them was something flattening grass as it approached. To Maela's horror, Darla's bag of flour landed on the path, exploding into a puff of white smoke. A moment later, Darla was tossed clear across the path to Maela's right, as if a giant had simple pushed her aside. She crumpled to the ground.

  Maela wasted little time, she could see where the guardian was by the depression on the grass. Spinning and approach low, she swung her axe. It hit home in a arcing gash, which resulted in a piercing howl and an invisible blow knocking Maela back a few feet, staggering her to her knees.

  Looking at the ground, she noticed two things: The guardian approaching slowly but inexorably and the red drops of blood that fell next to the depressions in the grass. Using surprise as her weapon, Maela leapt forward, swinging her axe again.

  It was for naught as she couldn't see her opponent, who must have easily twisted out of the way. Maela's axe swung through air, leaving her slightly off balance. Another mighty blow knocked Maela to the left side of the path. Her off balance momentum had saved her, however, for her body was already moving in the direction of the blow, and while it was powerful, her body absorbed it by simply flinging her further.

  Maela had been flown so far that she had time to stand, and as she did she once again focused on the grass. She saw a footstep and swung the axe with all her force. It missed the guardian completely and knocked her off balance again. A glancing blow knocked her to the ground again.

  Spinning to her feet, Maela tried to desperately figure out how she could battle an invisible opponent. Once again it approached with the slow certainty of death. Looking for the next footstep, her vision was suddenly filled with an explosion of white.

  Not five feet in front of her, surrounded by a spreading corona of white powder, was a giant being, its torso defined by a white outline. Without any hesitation, Maela stepped forward and swung with all her might right at the center of the thing's chest. With a soft thunk it hit home, embedding itself in the creature's chest.

  Another, smaller, explosion of white spread from behind the guardian, and Maela could see it clearly. As she attempted to wrench the axe free, she heard a thunk, thunk, thunk, one after another. She knew that sound.

  Maela retreated, not knowing what would happen. Was the creature magical and able to shrug off such a deadly attack? Would it launch a desperate dying counter-attack? Crouching in preparation for the worst, Maela watched clearly as the powdery white guardian stumbled a bit to the left, then to the right, and then fell to its knees and then face down into the path.

  Behind it was Darla, her face and chest bloody, and her hands and body covered in flour. Maela ran to her. "Darla, are you okay? Are you injured?"

  "I think my nose is broken," Darla replied, covering it with her hand.

  "Let me see," Maela replied, taking Darla's hand and kissing it as she moved it aside. "If it's broken, it isn't bad. You should be okay. Are you bleeding into your throat?"

  "No. Just what you see." Darla looked behind Maela. "You killed it!" She squeezed Maela's hand, as Maela had not let go.

  "I wounded it. You killed it!"

  "Well, we killed it, and it wouldn't have been so difficult if I hadn't missed," Darla said sheepishly. "The good thing is that it ignored me after it knocked me to the ground and broke my nose. So while you were fighting it, I gathered up the flour in the ripped bag and was able to carry enough to make a difference, I guess."

  "You made all the difference!"

  Darla looked at Maela. "Are you okay?'

  "A little bruised, but nothing bad." Turning around, Maela looked at the outline on the ground. "What do you think it is?"

  "A giant? A large man? A forest creature? I don't know."

  Nodding, Maela said, "It wasn't a giant or human. Look at its hands. Those are huge and seem like clubs more than hands. Maybe it is a being created by the wizards?"

  Darla shrugged. "We can ask Traville."

  "He'll be so surprised to see us he just might answer," Maela replied with a smile. "So what next? We need to get back to the tunnel, but we'll need to find it, get supplies, and do it all in secrecy."

  Darla started slapping her clothes, billowing out flour. Maela took a step back. "I don't want to travel through that tunnel without food, water, and a cart full of torches."

  "Well, now that we know a cart is a workable solution, that will make things easier. So we'll need supplies, but I also think we should see whatever we can find out. I have a feeling that the wizards weren't telling us everything."

  "Me, too!" Darla exclaimed. "So let's continue down the path, make up a story of being lost and attacked by brigands or something, and then see if we can pick up information about this city while we gather supplies."

  "You make it sound easy."

  Darla shrugged. "Can it be much harder than defeating an invisible giant guardian?"

  Maela laughed, and the two started walking down the path that led home, but how long that journey would take, neither of them knew.

  38

  A New Mission

  Vesper had filled Alard in on everything he knew, excluding a few select facts, such as him being assigned the job of assassinating Alard. Thankfully, Alard appeared to trust Vesper and revealed what was going on with the Thieves Guild.

  "We are secure. The Harvest Guild members are well taken care of, and Captain Dirk is exceptional, so I am confident that the guild is safe from any kind of immediate attack, especially from that idiot, Saxe." Alard's strides were so long, that Vesper had to almost jog to keep up. "Yet there are so many unknowns."

  "Indeed. I sense that Orion will kill Larsen, but I don't know who would do that with me unavailable to do the deed. A botched assassination of Larsen by Orion would be a bigger disaster for him than anything."

  "Too many unknowns," Alard repeated, his deep voice soft and thoughtful, yet still somehow sounding loud.

  "Well, we can't make decisions just waiting for things to become clearer."

  "You aren't making any decisions," Alard growled. "But your sentiment is correct. Our plan of escape is sound, but escape is not helpful at this point." They walked in silence.

  Vesper was going to recommend any number of things, but all of them failed due tot he fact that Alard was an enemy of practically every guild in Ness. That
led Vesper to a thought of at least lightening the moment. "So are there any guilds that don't hate you?"

  Alard glanced at Vesper, a frown visible under his brown hood. "No."

  "How did you achieve that? It must take a special talent to make everyone hate you." Vesper held up a finger, "And don't tell me it's because you are a thief. Everyone loved Pietro, and he was your guildmaster for many years."

  Alard nodded. "It is true. I did not deserve Pietro's kindness." There was another moment of silence, and then to Vesper's shock, Alard answered him. "The Knights and Rangers hate me because I saved an Outlander family from being massacred. Orion hates me because I am a thief, and he does not consider me harmless like Pietro. Of course, he didn't realize that Pietro ended up being much more formidable than I ever could be. Polo hates me for similar reasons as Orion, although Polo knows of the Outlander story and hates me for that, as well. Larsen hates me because I protect and serve his younger brother."

  "Well, that about sums it up." Alard nodded. "How many people know the true Outlander story? I had only heard that you betrayed the knights."

  "They twist the story to defend their integrity, but I know the truth. There was a family of Outlanders. They lived in the plains and were starving, so they moved their camp close to Ness. I'm sure they planned on raiding the Outer Fields at some point, but at the time they were just camping not far from Executioner's Hollow."

  Alard rubbed his head through his hood, and then continued. "I was a Captain and sent to investigate a sighting from one of the White Guard. I was with five other Knights, and we found a weakened man and his wife, along with three children. I told my men to spare them, but the law of the Knights is to kill all Outlanders. I fought my men, and hurt two of them, although not seriously.

  "Saxe banished me from the guild and sentenced me to die for betrayal, but Pietro stepped in and saved me. To this day I do not know what he said to Saxe, but I was free and wearing the black minutes after Pietro's visit."

  "How many know this story?" Vesper asked, amazed to hear it directly from Alard's own mouth.

  Alard shrugged. "Very few know the real story. Many know the story of my betraying the Knight Guild for the benefit of Outlander brigands."

  "So why do you tell me the story?" Vesper felt like Alard had trusted him with something extremely special.

  Alard peered at Vesper, and then replied, "Because you wield information like you wield a dagger--Only when needed and with great precision. When you need to wield this information you will, but I know that when you do it will be for a reason that I would approve."

  Without thinking, Vesper replied, incredulous, "Why would you think that?"

  "Because I know how you think. You will align yourself with the winning side." Smiling, Alard added, "Would you like to hear an additional secret?"

  Vesper leaned toward Alard, whose voice dropped to a whisper with the previous question. "Yes. What is it?"

  "We will be the winning side."

  The two reached the Warehouse District without any problems, although they were accosted a few times by guild guards. Vesper's first big decision came when they turned down the massive road that ran among the collection of huge warehouses that hugged the eastern part of the Great Wall. Craft Tower was close enough that Vesper could see Orion's office window on the top floor.

  The presence of armed Craft Guild guards was heavy, and Vesper could easily have Alard captured. He was a mighty warrior and would kill several guards, but they would eventually overwhelm him. With Orion close, Vesper could do even better than assassinate Alard, he could have him captured.

  Yet he was still uncertain. The organization and secretive nature of the Thieves made him think that they may prevail. Alard interrupted Vesper's thoughts by saying, "There is a large sewage entrance near here. It is used by our guild to move stolen goods under the Lower Quarter to safe houses, where they are distributed and eventually moved to the Old Quarter."

  "So we will use that passage to return to the Tower?" At the thought of the Tower, Vesper lost all interest in turning Alard in. He didn't understand its power and draw over him, but he recognized it. Perhaps it was that he finally had found a guild that was the closest to his life--one of intrigue and secrecy--and the Tower, in plain view yet hidden, represented that to him.

  "No." Alard's voice was low and deep, and he was continually scanning the people they passed, as the walked past large wagons pulled by draft horses and men and women that smelled like leather soap, burnt wood, and iron. "There are guild members there guarding the entrance. We will stop, gather information, and then decide on our future steps."

  They turned past one of the largest warehouses. It contained roughspun clothes used by the majority of the citizens of Ness. The clothes were produced in a work building on the other side of the large street and then died guild colors in building next to the warehouse. The smell of the dye filled the street, just like the smell of cured leather filled the street further up, and the smell of fire and iron filled the part of the street they had passed.

  They walked along a small road that had little use beyond acting as a way to get from the front of the warehouse to the back or to access the Wall from the major road in the front.

  "No guards," Vesper stated.

  "They fear to patrol here."

  Alard didn't elaborate, so Vesper pushed the point. "Why?"

  "There is a rumor that the fumes from the dye is poisonous. No one walks near the dye house. If you were to enter the warehouse, you would see that most of the goods are stacked on the wall farthest from the dye. No one wants to smell it. It is considered one of the lowliest jobs in the Craft Guild to work the dye, a death sentence in fact."

  The smell of the dye was overwhelming as they walked between the dye house and the warehouse. Vesper covered his mouth with his hand, which elicited a smile from Alard. "Is it poisonous?"

  "No. The Thieves Guild runs the dye house. We move people in and out regularly, with messages left that the former workers had died. Then we move them into our service in the Old Quarter. This is our single most important location for handling the things we steal."

  "I did not know this," Vesper said, awe in his voice.

  "The Captains know but are afraid the Orion will move the dye house outside the wall if he found out. So they keep it from him. And the guild members who work there fear reprisal if they speak up."

  "But what of the guards? They clearly know."

  Alard shrugged. "Everyone looks out for themselves."

  "Except the Thieves," Vesper said.

  "We take so we can give," Alard replied.

  They reached the back of the dye house, and there was a wooden shed that was surrounded by what looked like old and rancid dye. It was in open containers and stunk so badly of sharp-smelling dye that Vesper's eyes started to water. "With what you just told me, this may be the most well-defended entrance to a secret passage in Ness." Vesper chuckled.

  "Perhaps."

  They walked through a wooden door that looked like it was going to fall off its hinges, yet moved as smoothly as a door in one of the pubs in the Upper Quarter. Inside were barrels, although the smell of dye was considerably less. Alard walked deliberately around them, and as Vesper followed, they came upon a staircase leading down. It was side and solid, enough for four men to walk side-by-side while descending.

  It was much longer than Vesper had anticipated, and at the bottom there were double iron doors. They opened as Alard approached. A man wearing black and the common sign of a Captain--a single accent strip around his right sleeve--strode forward. He was massive. Not massive like Alard, who was tall and strong, but massive in that he was broad and thick at every part of his body. He wasn't necessarily tall, but he looked like the kind of man that you knew would end up bloodied but standing in a bar fight.

  "Kalos!" Alard said, uncharacteristic warmth in his voice. "I had no idea you'd be managing the Thoroughfare. Is there an important shipment happening?" Alard peered towa
rd the room behind the door.

  "Deputy!" The man named Kalos strode forward and rather than shake Alard's hands, threw his mighty arms around him in a hug. Parting, Kalos shook his head. "More like multiple shipments. That idiot Orion has all his guards keeping an eye on the chaos in the Lower Quarter, so with the cats away--" Kalos spread his arms and smiled, as if he was doing something naughty but no one could blame him. Vesper finally caught Kalos' eye. "Who's this?"

  "Orion's Blade."

  Kalos tensed and his smile turned to a face that was intimidating in its intensity of restrained violence, but that quickly returned to a smile. "I had low expectations of the rascal, Ralan, but if he turned a Blade to our guild? I have to hand it to him."

  "Guildmaster Ralan," Alard said, his voice serious.

  "I apologize, Deputy. Of course." Turning to Vesper, Kalos said, "So Blade, what's your name?"

  "Vesper." He rather liked Kalos, but there was no need to let him know that. So he kept his answers short, and his voice sharp.

  "Anything I can help you with?" The question surprised Vesper. He had expected to be ignored in the presence of the Deputy Guildmaster. The Thieves Guild continued to appear very different than what he was used to.

  Nodding to Alard, Vesper replied, "I await orders."

  Alard spoke up. "We have both been indisposed and need updated news. My mission was to find out from Vesper what he knew, and I have done that. I was planning on both of us returning to the Tower, but I will not make that decision until we are current on what is happening."

  "So it shall be. There is a meeting room down the hall. Follow me." Kalos led the two of them through the door, which opened onto a massive room, larger than the dye house above it. Stacked nearly floor to ceiling in the room were clothes, weapons, household items, and a variety of things that were necessary for living in Ness and yet unavailable to its poor and those in the Old Quarter.

  They entered a small, spare room with a desk pushed against a wall, and a few chairs facing it. Alard walked in and leaned back against the desk, while Kalos pulled up a chair and motioned Vesper to sit.