The Thief of Dunmire and the Tear of Astra (The League of Sinister Means Book 1)

by H. K. MacTavish

  Bernice was careful about how he hides some of his wealth about town but I managed to squeeze it out of a man a few weeks ago. Got him nice and drunk. With some careful questions and the right words it popped out of him. And…there! I look around to make sure that no one is coming, or looking. Good, I’m alone. Now is a perfect time to pull the stone free.

  It’s stuck in there good. Did the man lie to me? Better not have! Wait! It’s starting to give. Just a little. There we go, and inside…wow. That’s it?

  A ring that looks old and worn, a handful of silver and two gold pieces. What a haul Bernice. No wonder he’s started playing for the other side. Crime just doesn’t pay him well enough these days.

  I’ll just take the ring I guess…hold on. What’s that glittering in the back? A gem? Please be a diamond. Please be a diamond. Red. A ruby. Good enough. Maybe the ring has sentimental value. You know what; I’ll just take it all.

  I close the stash back up and no one is the wiser. Except Bernice when I show him this. He’ll want proof that I’m a thief. Well, that I’m representing one. The Thief of Dunmire is a man to everyone and I see no reason to prove them wrong.

  I head back to the main road and turn to merge with the hustle and bustle of the town. I have to find Bernice now.

  After twenty minutes of searching I find the right door. Down a side street that looks run down; houses have at least one shutter that is broken, doors are chipped, and there is more garbage in the streets. A brute of a man is hanging out down the road, watching me as I approach Bernice’s puke green door.

  I read a worn old sign hanging above the door; Bernice’s General Store. What a clever a name for your store. Still, Bernice doesn’t exactly want a lot of regular traffic. It would make it hard to conduct the more illicit deals that are much more profitable.

  Inside another man is sitting off to the corner, as brutish as the man outside. Both are hired thugs and both look bored. No one is going to think that a woman of my average size is a threat, I guess.

  “Hello! Hello young lady. What can I get you?” Bernice asks.

  He’s a portly older man, somewhere in his fifties I’d guess. The counter he’s standing behind looks to be twice as old as he is and the shelves all look rickety and in need of repair. Or just replaced outright. Yeah, those boards look like they’re starting to rot. Maybe that is where the smell is coming from. He should just pull the shelves out, get some fresh wood, I bet the metal holding up those boards are still salvageable…no. Focus Mary. You’re not here to play house with Bernice.

  “I’m here on behalf of my employer,” I say.

  “Oh?” Bernice asks. Now he’s sizing me up. “Whatever you’ve been told about me is a lie.”

  “Really?”

  “Really,” Bernice says. “I’m just an honest peddler of everyday wares!”

  “You don’t want to know who my employer is?” I ask.

  “Whoever he is I would be happy to deal with him if his coin is good enough.”

  “As good as anyone’s,” I say. “But he’s not interested in buying.”

  “Selling?”

  “Yes,” I say.

  “What kind of merchandise?”

  “Jewelry,” I say.

  “I love jewelry. Do you have it on you?”

  “No. I have just been sent to make arrangements.”

  “Well bring it along with you and I’ll appraise it for you. We can make a deal.”

  “I can tell you about it now,” I say.

  “Words don’t offer me nearly enough to judge…”

  “The Tear of Astra.”

  “…because…did you say…”

  “The Tear of Astra,” I repeat to him. His eyes have gotten wide. He’s excited, I can tell.

  “That’s what I thought you said,” Bernice said. “I don’t deal in fool’s errands.”

  “My employer isn’t a fool.”

  “Who does he think he is? The Thief of Dunmire?”

  I just stare at him.

  “You…you’re joking…”

  “Do I look like I’m joking?”

  “But you…”

  “Scar told me that you were the man to talk to. I guess I’ll have to find someone else.”

  “You’ve talked with Scar?”

  “I’ve dealt with Scar,” I say. “Surely he’s mentioned that he’s dealt with…my employer?”

  Almost said ‘dealt with me’. Have to be careful.

  “I thought he was making it up.”

  “And Leopold?”

  “Yes, well…look. If your employer is who you say he is then I will need to have some proof. You know, in case you think I’m just some gullible fool.”

  I do think that.

  “I was told there would be a test.”

  “Good,” Bernice said. “Now then, there is a merchant that owes me some money…”

  I reach into my pocket and pull out his ring, the ruby, and the silver and gold coins.

  “What is that?” he asks.

  “My test,” I say.

  “My…hey! That’s mine!”

  “It is,” I say. He looks annoyed and I can hear the man behind me shift his weight.

  “That’s not…” Bernice starts to say before I cut him off. I am, after all, representing the Thief of Dunmire.

  “Did you think I or my employer was going to do a job for you for free? Really Bernice?”

  “Well, I…”

  “You’re a fence,” I say.

  “Not so loud,” Bernice says, looking around as if the walls have ears. He’s gone from pissed to nervous real quick.

  “Then stop requiring such blunt language!” I yell, slamming the ring, ruby, and coins down on the table. He thinks I’m really pissed. I kind of am. Did he really think I was going to do some lowly work for him for free?

  “Well…fine. Let’s say I am a purveyor of lost items,” Bernice says, easing himself off his counter. Bernice scoops up his wealth and places it in his pocket. The man in the corner hasn’t moved further but he doesn’t look bored anymore.

  “Do you have the funds to pay for the Tear?”

  “Of course!”

  “Can you prove it?”

  “Do I have to?”

  “I’d hate to bring the Tear of Astra all the way here to listen to some sob story about how you were raided or lost the money or you’ll have it, eventually,” I say.

  “Just trust me,” Bernice says.

  Ha! Oh my god, did he just say that? Did a fence just tell a thief to trust him? That’s funny.

  “Thieves and fences don’t have a relationship built on trust. I’ll need to report back that you can afford the price of the Tear of Astra. And trusting you isn’t going to cut it. I was told you had the money and would be willing to purchase the Tear of Astra from my employer. If that’s not the truth, then I am wasting my time. And my employer’s.”

  “Fine, fine,” Bernice says. He looks past me to the man in the corner of the room. “Watch the store.”

  “Yeah, sure thing boss,” the man says, getting to his feet.

  “Come into the back my dear,” Bernice says. I nod and walk back, around the counter, to follow him into the back room. There is a door to an alley to the right and some other room further back. That’s probably where Bernice lives. Here there is just a blanket on the floor and some old shelves with more merchandise. This looks like a storage room for his store.

  Bernice bends down and lifts up the blanket from the floor to reveal a hidden wooden hatch. He lifts the hatch up to reveal a staircase. He walks down some old wooden stairs that squeak under his weight. I follow him into a dank and dark room. He lights a lantern sitting nearby and the whole room starts to shine and glitter! This is a treasure room! An honest to god treasure room! There are bars of gold, piles of gold coins, chests of silver, necklaces, rings, bracelets, armlets, and even bejeweled weapons! So those little stashes Bernice hides are just decoys for the real wealth he has. Bernice is cleverer than I gave him credi
t for.

  “As you can see I have enough to pay for even the Tear of Astra,” Bernice says with a smile.

  He’s enjoying showing this off to me. He probably never gets the chance to tell someone how successful he is. Always manning that crummy store that looks like he’s just barely making ends meet while only letting slip about those stashes he has around with a pauper’s treasure inside. I bet everyone thinks he’s some poor slob while in reality he is richer than a lot of the lords and ladies that will be in attendance for the engagement ball.

  “Good. This is good,” I say calmly. Inside my heart is throwing a wild party. Loot! Lots of loot! I struggle with it, but I manage to not jump up and down like a small child; or drool. “My employer will be pleased.”

  “I’m glad to hear it,” Bernice says.

  “I hope you aren’t offended that I had to force your hand like this,” I say.

  “No. No. For the Thief of Dunmire? Anything. But, I would like to meet him.”

  “That isn’t possible. This is a simple transaction. A pile of gold, slightly smaller than the total worth of the Tear of Astra,” I say.

  “It’s worth quite a bit…”

  “I know its true value,” I say.

  “I wouldn’t…”

  “I know you wouldn’t,” I say. “I just wanted to say that one of my many skills is appraising valuable items.”

  “That…that makes sense,” Bernice says. “But tell me…how are you going to get the Tear?”

  “Even I don’t have that information,” I say. “That way, if I get caught, I can’t divulge the information.”

  “Your employer is smart,” Bernice says.

  “That is how he is so successful,” I say.

  “I didn’t get your name,” Bernice says.

  “Mary,” I say.

  “A plain enough name.”

  “That’s the point,” I say. “I could tell you that it is my birth name. Would you believe me if I told you that?”

  “I might,” Bernice said as he walks to the stairs. I take the hint and climb back up, resisting the urge to take one last look.

  No windows down there; only one way in, through this stairway.

  “If my employer is successful you will know it,” I say to him once I reach the top.

  He climbs up, nearly out of breath. Bernice doesn’t move around a lot.

  “I…would assume…so,” Bernice manages to get out, closing the hatch up behind him and covering it with a rug.

  “If you don’t hear anything from me or from the castle by the time Melinda and her father leave, assume things went poorly.”

  “I’m not the worse for it,” Bernice says as we both emerge from the back room. The man standing behind the counter for Bernice makes his way back to his place in the corner of the room while I head for the door. I need him to hear the deal that we’ve made.

  “So, we have a deal, one Tear of Astra for one pile of treasure?” I ask.

  “Yes. Yes,” Bernice says, thinking too hard about the deal. “Tell him we have a deal.”

  “Good. I look forward to seeing you again soon,” I say before I leave.

  “Oh, as do I. As, do, I,” Bernice says, his eyes full of greed.

  Of course he’s going to stab me in the back by letting the heroes know about me. Or at least try to. The question I have is, will anyone actually believe what Bernice is telling them.

  Creating a Path

  So I see that Bernice is taken care of. It’s time to get into the keep and make myself useful.

  There already is a small line of people trying to get into the keep. The guards stationed in the keep are dressed in full plate with their red tunics over top with the same golden crown over a pair of crossed swords on it that all the guards here have.

  The guards here are just as bored as the men at the outer wall but are paid better, are better equipped, and are better trained to not look bored. But they are bored.

  The easiest way to get inside is to just be allowed in. It is always the best policy, really. Now, in many cases trained men won’t just let anyone in. But, the keep is going to need a lot of people like me. I am young so I can do a lot of work and they shouldn’t turn me away. But there is no reason you can’t tweak your cause. Just a little.

  If the guards were more interested in something else they might not ask so many questions of someone trying to get inside. It helps. Not that I have anything to hide that they know of. More questions will equal more potential reasons for not getting inside. And sneaking in through a window is tougher than it sounds. Especially a keep. Windows are all on the upper floors of a keep with nothing but arrow slits on the first couple floors. Usually. And when I was here earlier, usually applies to the keep of Hammerheim.

  There are many ways to distract people. There’s violence; which I’m not opposed to. But here, well, why bother? Over half of the peasants trying to get in are women. I just need to find the prettiest one that isn’t at the front of the line. I’m not the greatest at determining a woman’s beauty. My sister excels in that. Let’s see. No. No. She doesn’t have a lot going on, does she? Oh! There. She’ll do.

  She looks to be in her late twenties or so with long brown hair and a cute smile. Married and looking to get a little extra coin I bet. If she has kids she has someone looking after them. But she is pretty and wearing an old battered dress.

  It’s a fact that peasants maintain their clothes well after they really should just get something new. She’s no different. I can see where it’s been ripped a few times, patched with a blue cloth that was close to the same color as the original but not quite, and laces in the back that are frayed. She thinks they are strong. And she’s right, they are.

  I walk up behind her. The woman behind her isn’t paying attention and is standing a bit too far back. I step in and no one cares. I look at everyone’s eyes while I’m here to see if anyone is looking at me. No one is paying me any attention, just the way I like it. I go to work on her laces, slowly. When someone turns to me I stand still and mind my own business while watching them out of the corner of my eye. When they turn away my fingers get to work.

  I have quick and nimble fingers, like my sister. I tug on a lace, just a little bit. I can’t be the one to expose her; her dress has to fall naturally so I have to be careful about how I go about setting the poor girl up. I’ll just have to take things nice and slow with her.

  Have you ever heard the story about cooking frogs? It’s an old story that I’ve heard many times. If you put a frog in hot water it will leap out right away. I know, right? Who wouldn’t? Well, frogs won’t if you heat the water up slowly with them in it. They get used to the heat gradually. It’s the sudden change that they notice.

  People are the same. If I untied her laces too fast she would feel the dress suddenly sag. But if I untie the laces a bit here, a bit there…wait until the line moves forward and then loosen her dress a bit more, she won’t notice until the dress drops.

  “Next!” a guard calls out.

  The woman steps forward. He’s eyeing her and he is not looking for weapons. But he’s a professional. His eyes don’t linger.

  “Profession?”

  “Maid,” the woman says.

  “Could always use more young maids to help out around here. Go on in,” the guard says.

  “Thank you,” she says with a bow of the head.

  The dress didn’t fall!

  “Next!”

  Crap!

  I walk up meekly. The whole meek and innocent stance has served me well in life. If you don’t look like a threat people are more likely to not treat you like one.

  “Hello,” I say.

  “Profession?”

  “All manner of things. I can cook, clean…”

  “Cook?”

  “Yes,” I say. I really can cook. There are so few people that can cook well. I’m no master chef, but I can cook to impress. My sister can only burn to impress.

  “We do need some more…”

/>   The woman screams just past the gates. She made it twenty feet before everything fell down. Everyone is looking at her. A couple of people are laughing at her behind their hands. It must be so embarrassing to be put on sudden display like that.

  It is funny to watch her dance between trying to gather her dress up and bend her knees to try and cover herself up. I want to laugh but I can’t. I have to be on her side. I look shocked and then angry at the guards standing about.

  “Don’t just stand there!” I say to the guard. He looks dumbfounded. This is my moment to shine.

  “What do you…hey!” the guard calls out as I hustle past him. I rush over to the poor woman to help her.

  “Let me help you,” I say. The guard is right behind me as I reach around the woman’s back and tie her dress on for her.

  “Thank you,” she says. Wow, is her face red.

  The guard is still right behind me, watching both of us. I turn to him, innocent as can be.

  “I apologize. I couldn’t let her humiliation continue,” I say. At that the woman blushes.

  “It…it’s all right,” the guard says looking at both of us.

  “I won’t get you in trouble?” I ask the guard.

  “No. No, not at all. Just…report to the kitchen,” the guard says as he wanders back to his post. I’ve embarrassed the guard for not helping the young woman.

  “Thank you so much,” the woman says.

  I’ve made a friend, which is normally what my sister is good at. Never turn down a potential ally. People are useful, just like any other tool.

  “It’s no trouble. Really,” I say. “I’m just glad I was able to help.”

  “Maybe we’ll bump into each other inside,” she says.

  Wow. My sister would be jealous. It’s too bad she isn’t my type.

  “It would be nice to see a friendly face,” I say.

  “I’m Jennifer,” she says.

  “Corvina,” I say.

  I really hope she is just being friendly and not…you know…expecting something more. She smiles and we walk together down the hall. People have stopped staring for the most part. There are still a few lingering eyes hoping to see something more.

  Once we are past the gates and the portcullis of the keep there is another guard, dressed in full plate with a red tunic. He looks bigger than some of the other men in the keep.