by Brian Keller
The first thing he noticed was that both wagons were returning at the same time, loaded. Birt’s wagon was filled with firewood of various sizes; logs, sticks and kindling. Dailen was sitting proudly as he held the reins to his horses, and Rukle, Balat, Naro and Loryn were reclining on stacks of blankets in the back. As Cooper approached them, he studied the horses. They certainly weren’t young animals, but they had energy in their step and pulling the wagons through town hadn’t seemed to tire them. As he drew closer to Dailen’s wagon, Cooper commented, “I wonder how much rain water those blankets will soak up?” Loryn grinned as she pulled out an oiled sailcloth and shook it open, “Hopefully none.” The four passengers busied themselves with draping the tarpaulin over the stacks of blankets and tucking the edges in underneath. Birt asked, “Does the weather change our plans? I can see how it might help, but it’ll also hinder us in other ways.” Cooper shrugged, “Depending on how much rain we get, the wagons’ll leave tracks. We’ll need to come into town, instead of circling to the south. The cobblestones of the Grid will hide our trail… but it’ll also increase our risk. City Watch patrols, two wagons loaded with prisoners, shackles still on their ankles…” Rukle chimed in, “But the rain will make it easier to approach the quarry. Poor visibility will work in our favor.” Loryn added, “We lay the prisoners down in the wagons. Spread blankets over them, and the sailcloth.” Cooper appeared uncertain, and Loryn continued, “At least then the City Watch would have to stop us and look under in order to see them.” Rukle looked over his shoulder at the approaching line of dark clouds, “One thing for certain, that isn’t just going to blow over. Might not be too bad though. A little wind, a fair bit of rain… that’s all it looks like to me.” Cooper was thinking about the open spaces and rolling hills between the quarry and the city, “How do you feel about lightning?” Rukle shrugged, “Not much to be done about it, I suppose. If it’s your time to go, death will find you, lightning or not.” Dailen grumbled, “Well, if it’s your time to go, and it’s to be lightning, then I hope you’re not riding in my wagon…!” This brought a chuckle from most of them and Birt asked, “So we’re still going then?” Cooper nodded, “If it rains, the roads will be muddy for the next few days. We’re not going to wait for the roads to dry. If there’s rain falling, the Watch patrols aren’t as likely to stop us. They don’t want to stand out in the rain any more than anyone else does.” Rukle turned his palms up, “Besides, if it goes wrong, a patrol isn’t more than three or four men. We just kill them and drag them into the wagon and cover ‘em up. We can dump ‘em later.” Cooper became serious as he looked across them, “Let’s just hope it doesn’t come to that. A missing patrol would bring attention too close to home. When wagons go past houses at night, rain or no rain, folks often look out their windows to see.” Still, if a patrol stopped them, he had to admit Rukle had summed it up fairly well.
Cooper gave some final instructions, “Assuming we all live through this, freed Guild members get moved into one of the Houses in Miller’s Flats. Non-Guild prisoners get moved to another, temporarily. Once they’ve been housed, Rukle, Loryn and Spen, get back here and start guard shifts. The rest of us will get people settled, then decide what to do with the horses and wagons.
Birt asked, “Those non-Guild prisoners, what are we going to do with them once they’re settled?” Cooper had a reply prepared, “Those that have desirable skills and are interested, we might recruit, even if only to set them up with a franchise business here in the Ruins. Those who are not interested, or have no value to us, we’ll feed them, clothe them, and provide care for any illnesses or wounds, then send them on their way. We might consider leaving that House vacant for a month or so afterward.” Birt seemed satisfied with that answer and nodded his assent.
Cooper looked at each person, “Any questions?” There were no further replies, “Then load up. We have firewood for sale and blankets to hand out. Rain is on the way.”
Chapter 9
By the time they’d reached the quarry, the breeze had stiffened into a light, but determined wind. The drizzle that had begun to fall as they rode through town had increased to form raindrops that fell with increasing frequency as they left town and approached the quarry. The raindrops were settling the dust, but the roads hadn’t become muddy yet. They were all dressed as common tradesmen, and women. Balat pulled his woolen cloak tighter around his chin as protection as a gust of wind pushed the rain a little sideways, and grumbled, “Maybe we should keep the horses and wagons… sure beats walking.” Gaff leaned forward to reply, “Sure, and we’ll leave you in charge of mucking out the stables. Once they’re built, that is.” Balat nodded, “We’ve nowhere to put them… point taken.”
They drew nearer to the quarry and could see that there were no people on the scaffolding. Several crews had already been chained together and they were carrying or dragging stones to the central work area. The guards stopped the wagons well outside the boundaries of the quarry. Three guards approached while four others stayed further back. All had swords and crossbows. The bows were already loaded and pulled taut. One of the three guards called out, “State yer business!” Birt and Cooper were seated forward in the lead wagon. Birt yelled, “We’re bringin’ a load o’ firewood ta sell ya. There’s a bunch o’ blankets fer the prisoners in th’ next wagon. Donated, they are. We wuz asked ta bring ‘em wit’ us.” The three guards passed them to look over the side of the second wagon. The one who had spoken before turned back to Birt, “Donated, ya say? By who?” Birt shrugged under the heavy cloak, “Dunno. Din’ say, and we din’ ask. Jes’ someone sendin’ ‘em out fer the prisoners. We wuz comin’ thisaway anyway, so we wuz paid a little extra ta haul ‘em along.” One of the other guards chuckle loudly, “Blankets for the prisoners, eh. I’ll say we need to inspect ‘em.” The other nodded, “Yep. Might have to test ‘em, too. What do you think, sarge?” The first guard looked over the blankets again then told Dailen, who was holding the reins, “Take yer wagon up to that building.” He pointed at the guard house and continued to give instructions, “Stack ‘em up just inside the door. Don’t go inside any further than you need to. Got it?” Dailen nodded and the second guard laughed again, “Yep. I’ll inspect a couple of those tonight.” The three guards walked back to the first wagon, and the Sergeant asked Birt, “No problem with that, right?” Birt shrugged, “I din’t pay for ‘em. We wuz jes paid ta bring ‘em here. They’s sposed ta go to the prisoners, but wadda we care?” Birt turned around on his seat and waved Dailen forward. Birt faced back to the sergeant, “This wood we took ta th’ market this mornin’. Sold all we had on that wagon.” He jerked a thumb at the wagon Dailen was driving past, “Then folks saw the rain comin’ and started headin’ back indoors. I can’t see goin’ back home wit’ a loaded wagon, and someone said you might buy it.” Birt added a note of suspicion to his voice, “It wuz the same man that had the blankets, so I hope he din’t tell us that jes ta get us ta haul his blankets fer him.”
The sergeant stepped back, looking uncertain, “Well, the city sends out carts of wood every coupla weeks. We don’t buy any.” Cooper smirked as he noticed that Birt grew a little red in the face. He thought, “I’ll have to ask how he does that.” Birt let loose with a short outburst of verbiage that he could’ve only learned from Paleros back alleys. This brought a chuckle from the sergeant, who managed to reply, “That doesn’t mean we won’t buy it.” He turned to one of the other men and ordered, “Get Cookie.” The other guard hesitated and replied, “He won’t wanna come out in this.” The man glanced skyward at the darkening sky. The rain had begun. The sergeant snarled, “He’ll come out if you tell him I said so. Now git movin’!” The other guard fairly hopped as he started toward the guard house.
Shortly after that guard entered, another man exited, draping a cloak over his head. He shouted a brief, but impatient, “What?!” The sergeant gruffly bellowed back, “Firewood here. How much?” The cook’s expression went from impatience to incredulity, “You called me
out here for that?!” He looked at the wagon then back to the sergeant, “All of it, of course!” He turned to enter the building. Another shout from the sergeant stopped him, “How much’ll you pay for it?” The cook turned back to face him, “Pay?!? Since when do we pay for firewood?” The sergeant sounded like he was rapidly losing his patience. Cooper was still smirking. He would’ve enjoyed just sitting and watching all this play out, if he weren’t getting wetter by the second. Birt was doing a good job of staying in character as the sergeant shouted back to the cook, “You said the last load of firewood we got was rubbish. You even tried blaming the poor quality of your cooking on the firewood. This here looks pretty good.” The cook walked over to the wagon, grumbling louder with every step. He peered over the side of the wagon and then at Birt, “The wood’s all wet now…how much?” Birt retorted, “There’s not a green stick in the bunch. I’ll take a crown.” The cook laughed, “You’ll take a gold crown?! I’ll just bet you would! It’ll take me a day just to dry it out. I’ll give you two silver for all of it.” It was Birt’s turn to laugh, “I’d sooner eat it than sell it fer two silvers! I’d not be let back inta my da’s house for less’n eight!” The cook leaned over the edge of the wagon again, “I see a few sticks of cherry and apple wood in there. I’ll give you five.” Birt hopped down from the wagon. His landing spattered several drops of newly formed mud onto the cook’s pant legs. The cook looked less than pleased, but Birt pointedly ignored it as he quickly stepped to the rear of the wagon and placed his hand on a large, wrapped bundle, “This here’s split wood and kindlin’. It’s mostly hickory, but some oak. It’ll git yer fire hot quicker, an’ it’s still dry. That’s partly why I’m holdin’ at eight.” The cook stepped carefully to avoid slipping. It appeared he had become resigned to getting wet and muddy. He opened the flap on the bundle to look, then addressed Birt, “We don’t normally buy firewood. You might just have ta haul all this home if you don’t sell it now, right? Six.” The cook crossed his arms over his chest, the cloak in his hands nearly dangling into the mud forming at his feet. Birt considered it, then gave the cook a grudging look, “Six.” He held out his hand. The cook shook his head, “I didn’t come outside thinkin’ that I was buyin’ anythin’. Start unloadin’ over there.” He pointed to a spot near the stable where some wood was already stacked neatly as he continued speaking, “I’ll go in an’ get yer coin.” Now it was Birt’s turn to cross his arms over his chest, “Not a twig comes off this wagon ‘til it’s paid for.” The cook threw his hands skyward, nearly losing his cloak in the motion, and turned back to the guard house. The sergeant was smiling wide, revealing that he was missing more than one tooth, “Watchin’ that just made my day – Rain an’ all.”
They led the horses and wagon over to the stable. Cooper wasn’t the only one inspecting the grounds without seeming to. Less than a minute later the cook emerged, trudged over and thrust the six coins into Birt’s outstretched hand. Birt made a show of inspecting each coin. Once he was satisfied he made a sweeping motion as if to push the firewood off the wagon; Balat, Spen and Cooper unloaded the wrapped bundle and began pulling the wood off the end of the wagon, letting it fall onto the ground. The cook turned to observe before he walked back into the guardhouse, “Wait! You’ve got to stack it! In a pile like that it’ll all get muddy!” Birt smiled, “You paid for firewood. Stackin’ it’s yer problem… but we’ll do it for another silver.” The sergeant fairly roared with laughter, “That’s funny! I’ll pay ye a silver meself to stack it. I’ll smile ever’ time I think o’ this from now on!” Cooper had been thinking that Birt had been dragging all this out unnecessarily but once the guard placed a silver in Birt’s hand, he and the rest of the guards turned and walked away without giving them another glance. They only seemed to be interested in staying out of the rain as much as possible. Cooper and Birt managed a brief conversation while stacking. Cooper joked, “If only they’d paid you for what you were really selling. You almost convinced me!” Birt chuckled, “At least we made most of our money back on the firewood. The coin spent on the blankets will be a total loss.” Cooper gave him a wink, “Well, not a total loss. We’re not done yet, but we surely aren’t going to get Loryn into the stockade.” He paused and straightened his back, “I’ll start the ‘human shell game’. Spen or Balat still needs to hide without getting noticed.” Cooper walked to the guard house to help finish with the blankets. Rukle or Naro would be coming to help with firewood. Birt knew better than to ask further questions. The plan was still going forward.
As circumstances would have it, both Loryn and Naro replaced Cooper. A few minutes later, Balat had dropped out of sight and Spen walked to the guard house to be replaced by Rukle. Once the blankets had been deposited inside, everyone returned to help with the wood while Dailen brought the emptied wagon around. Spen, Loryn and Rukle hopped on Dailen’s wagon and he drove it out of the quarry, leaving Cooper, Gaff and Birt to finish up. Birt left and found the sergeant, “We’re done. We gotta get home. Too much longer and the neighbors’ll be askin’ me ma ‘n pa where their kids’re at.” Birt gave the man a brief wave and jogged back to the wagon. The sergeant leaned out to look towards the wagons and could see that one was already leaving the quarry with kids seated up front and in back. Cooper handed the reins to Birt and turned to give a brief wave of his own in the direction of the guard house. As Birt flicked the reins, Cooper spoke loud enough to be heard but not loud enough for his voice to carry over the sound of falling rain, “We shouldn’t even need to wait til dark. They’re already chaining prisoners up to put them inside the stockade. They might not even push guards outside the quarry in this rain.” Birt agreed, “True. And if the rain comes down any harder, they might not even hear us come back with the wagons.” Gaff leaned in to join the conversation, “Did you notice? The guards aren’t just wearing chainmail. Most of them have a breast plate and a few of them have spaulders of some sort.” Cooper leaned back so he didn’t have to raise his voice to be heard over the rain, “It’ll take a lot of force to punch through armor like that. You’ve got Earth affinity, right?” Gaff nodded, then shook his head, “Yeah, but not like that’ll be enough to let me pierce through armor plate with a dagger!” Cooper asked, “Who’s the better archer? Loryn or you?” Gaff didn’t have to think about it, nor did he look ashamed, “Loryn.” Cooper nodded and asked, “How are you at picking locks?” Gaff snorted, then blew the water out from his nose, “Did you get a look at the padlock on that gate?” Cooper shook his head, “Never got that close.” Gaff smiled, “Pretty sure I can sneeze while I’m working at it and that lock’ll just fall open… can’t count on those shackle chains being that easy though.”
Dailen had stopped his wagon at the bottom of the first low hill. By the time they’d caught up to them, Dailen’s passengers had almost finished changing out of their worker’s clothes. Loryn was gathering the bows and quivers from the space under the front seats to hand them out. The wind kept blowing her hood down every time she stood with her arms full. She caught Cooper grinning and demanded, “What’s so funny?” Cooper smiled wider, “Just wondering if you preferred this over hiding in a puddle, under a wet blanket in that stockade back there?” Loryn grinned back and ducked her head, “It wouldn’t have been bad if it were dry. Might’ve even caught a few winks waiting for the sun to go down.” She handed the bows and arrows down to Rukle as she spoke, “It might take longer now,” she looked at the dark clouds still to come, “but I wouldn’t be surprised to find those guards spending the night indoors.” Rukle’s voice was almost lost as he turned to face away from the wind, “A night like this one… that’s when those people chained up get sick, and those already sick might die. A cold rain like this’ll chill you to the bone. It sucks the life right out of you when there’s no way to get warm.”
Dailen asked, “With Loryn here, what’s the signal?” Cooper looked back toward the quarry. There was nothing to see except rain. He decided, “There won’t be a need for us to make a wide circl
e to flank the quarry. We’ll just move a few steps off the road and walk parallel to it through the tall grass. I doubt they’ll put guards out to watch the approach, but keep an eye out in case they have. Dailen and Birt, wait about twenty minutes, then lead the horses and wagons back into the quarry. That should give us enough time to spot any posted guards and deal with them. Waiting longer than that might force us to deal with shift changes or someone coming out to take a leak. Balat knows we’ve had to change the plan, but he can’t start cutting saddle straps until he knows whether or not they’re putting guards on the road.” As Cooper and Gaff changed clothes, the sky lit up a few times, but it looked like the flashes were staying in the clouds. As he strapped his quiver over his shoulder, Cooper offered, “Arrows don’t fly the same when they’re wet. Even worse when it’s actively raining.” Spen tugged his bowstring, “Still good enough to pierce a cheap breast plate.” Cooper’s head snapped around, “Cheap?” Spen smiled and turned his hand to point at Dailen with his bow, “That’s what he said.” Cooper turned to question Dailen. Dailen spoke, “You couldn’t tell? Most of those plates have been dented plenty, and then hammered out afterward. Good armor would’ve needed some heat to bang it out correctly. The metal they’re wearing is thin and weak enough that they just hammered it roughly into shape.” Cooper gave a single, exaggerated nod, “That’s good news for us then. Just remember, if you shoot an arrow, hit or miss, note where it goes. I’d prefer it if we didn’t leave anything behind. Not even a fletching.” Naro replied, “We are Assassins, after all.” Cooper turned, “Not yet, you’re not. But all the same, let’s reinforce those good habits, shall we?” Loryn asked, “I was supposed to be in the stockade. Where do I need to be now?” Gaff eagerly chimed in, “You’re with Cooper and Rukle, covering me while I unlock the stockade.” Loryn looked to Cooper, who nodded, then added, “Once the gate’s open, Rukle, you go in with Gaff and help bring the prisoners out.” Rukle started to form a protest but Cooper spoke first, “You don’t have a bow like ours.” He spoke to the group, “You all know where you need to be. There’ll almost certainly be blood on the ground tonight. Just make sure it isn’t yours. Let’s go.” He turned back to Birt, “Twenty minutes?” Birt nodded, then added as he dangled a pouch in front of his face, “Plan B?” Cooper considered, “Toss it to Spen. Better to have and not need, I suppose.”