Lawful Good Thief

by T L Ford

  She pushed back until she could breathe.

  "I thought I'd lost you," he choked.

  "I'm harder to kill than that. You've trained me well."

  "What happened?"

  "There's no time. Davies will be back any second."

  "Is he the traitor? I'll kill him myself."

  "I don't know. We'll find out who, but don't give me away." They heard the footsteps returning. "Go sit down and wipe your eyes," she whispered fervently, picking up the book and shoving it in his hand.

  Her Master did. His eyes still looked a little watery. Davies entered, giving paper and ink to Angela.

  "Write what you are here for, Selig."

  Angela nodded. The geas required she do exactly that. She wondered if he'd meant to say that, or if she'd so surprised him that he wasn't thinking clearly. She wrote, "I'm here to help you find the traitor and to kill him." She handed Davies the note, who looked at it and then handed it to their Master. He frowned as he read it and then seemed to suddenly realize the geas forced her actions. It was too late to change his command though.

  "So I have a traitor, do I?"

  She nodded.

  "Who?"

  She opened her hands in an empty gesture indicating she didn't know.

  "I must think on this. Davies, are you the traitor?"

  "No, Master," Davies shook his head.

  Her Master did not indicate that the ring had tingled. Davies wasn't the traitor. Her Master instructed, "Davies, find my new assassin a room at the Inn. And you, Selig, get on with your business. Davies, do not to speak about this to anyone."

  "Yes, Master."

  They both bowed and left.

  * * * * *

  Jamil waited at the inn, his cloak hiding his features. He did not like this plan at all. Too much relied on a self-serving Guildmaster being able to identify Angela before a lie caused him to casually kill her, and even if he did, would he care about an apprentice who'd seemingly run off? While he knew she trusted the Guildmaster de Merryweather, Jamil also knew that was incredibly naive.

  No one ascended to Guildmaster without being entirely selfish, innately evil, brutal, and unpredictable. Guildmasters were more unpredictable and dangerous than wild animals. That also applied to a Guildmaster's apprentices (and thus to Angela, but Jamil pushed that thought aside). Finding a way to extract Angela alive from this Guild was going to take more than just getting her to decide she didn't want to be a part of it. He admitted to himself that he didn't seem to be making much progress on that task either - he didn't seem to be getting through to her.

  Jamil would have to show her how little freedom she had, how bleak and short her life would be if she stayed with the Guild. He'd explained the arguments several times - Why should she serve someone who could flippantly kill her for sneezing at a bad moment? The alternative - family who cared about her, any education or activity she wanted to pursue, beautiful clothes and any item within Jason Thomas' substantial budget. Freedom to go anywhere she'd like, whenever she'd like, in the sunlight, not having to slink along in dank caves and shadows.

  Jamil didn't understand how she couldn't seem to grasp these things after being manacled in Behr. That wink even suggested she'd thought it was fun - not remotely serious or dangerous. 'The young truly did think they were immortal,' he thought, depressed.

  There was also the geas to contend with. Though she still hadn't admitted it to him, if she was the man's apprentice, she was geased. Taken far enough away, he could find a mage who could and would release it, but the geas itself would prevent her from cooperating. They'd almost have to keep her tied up the entire way. All around, a nasty bit of business.

  He saw himself walk in, accompanied by a tall, lean man that Jamil instantly disliked. Angela, in Jamil's body, scanned the room, her gaze sliding past him without pause or recognition. She nodded at the man, as if to say, "This'll do." They approached the bar, were given drinks, and then went upstairs. Almost immediately, the tall, lean man came back, searched until he spotted a specific barmaid and went to speak with her. He passed her what looked like several coins. Then the man left. The barmaid put whatever it was in the front of her corset.

  For the rest of the evening, Jamil watched people come and go. Bawdy, rough people. He would have bet coins that every single customer was a guildmember. They stared at him curiously and went about their night, gambling, whoring, and drinking. Just as he was about to head upstairs to his room, Angela, as Jamil, arrived back, through the front door. She'd obviously exited the inn somehow, though the inn only had the one door which she hadn't used. She sauntered over to the counter, looking like an evil, twisted version of himself, hunched, with a deep scowl. She set out a coin. The barkeep brought her a drink, which she sipped as she watched the people in the room.

  A group of four men left. After a short delay, she abandoned her unfinished drink to follow them. He nearly got up and followed her, but recalled that he was supposed to be watching for people following her, not following her himself. It about drove him crazy to think of those men cornering her and attacking. The barmaid looked over at the closing door and went and cleaned up the mug Angela had left behind.

  He watched and waited and eavesdropped. No conversations relating to the Guild out here. The law was certainly enforced. If one knew what to look for, as he did, it was obvious: The Guildmaster here was in peak form and ruled with a swift, unforgiving hand. The more he thought about that, the more scared he became for Angela. The traitor had to be smart and skilled to even consider mutiny. To have gotten this far without getting caught, there had to have been a network of traitors very close to each other to risk their lives relying on each other's secrecy.

  He ordered another drink and sipped at it to calm his nerves. He couldn't believe he was doing this. He hated the Guild, bloodthirsty savages, all of them. He'd had his fill, geased against his will, when he'd accidentally witnessed the wrong murder. Yes, he'd been a guildmember before that but only making his living by petty theft and giving the tithe to the local hall. That had been the extent of his membership until that night. He still had nightmares on occasion about the things he was forced to do and had seen. He still bore the Guild tattoo - a tattoo, which if anyone saw and reported, would cause him to be thrown into the dungeon, if not killed, for failing to "check in" when he arrived in some towns, including this one. He'd left this life behind him a long time ago, and wished he weren't here now. He could only be thankful Amy hadn't known about her daughter.

  The night stretched on and he realized he'd need to go to his room, even though Angela wasn't back yet. He had to keep "non-thief" hours to some extent, sleeping at night and up during the day, with as much overlap as he could risk. He could only hope she was all right and that Corishm, on night shift, would be diligent and watchful. He finished his drink and went to bed. He wanted to go out and search the town, but if he were seen at all, he'd lose his "not a thief" cover. He did not sleep, but listened instead to the painfully familiar night sounds of a Guild-run town.

  * * * * *

  For several days, this was the routine. Jamil was up early, spent the day wandering and eavesdropping on likely thieves - there weren't that many. Then, in early evening, he returned to the inn to eat and drink, and listen to the newly awakened guildmembers. Angela, still wearing his body, came and went, only using the inn's door about half the time. Corishm came and went, merrily socializing with a number of people, always using the inn's door. Jamil watched and kept track of everyone else. He then retired to his room late and spent the night listening and wishing he was somewhere else.

  As the nights passed, he began to know which of the inn patrons were regulars and which were just passing through. While he'd checked out other bars and inns, this one seemed to be the one the guildmembers preferred for their breakfast and drinking. He could tell which were local guildmembers, which were visiting the Guild, and which were marks. The inn seemed to be a no-steal zone, though he was sure several people lost their pu
rses after leaving the establishment.

  The most exciting thing to happen in the inn was a short brawl between two non-local drunks. Several men that Jamil had pegged as guildmembers rose instantly and shoved the fight outside before any damage could be done to the furniture. The fight continued, with much cheering by those that went out after it to watch, but it didn't last long enough to draw out most of the drinkers, who seemed to feel their beverages were more important.

  The ninth night, as Jamil was really beginning to feel that this plan was not going to work at all, the tall, thin man returned and spoke with the barmaid again. She explained something to him in quiet detail. The man went to the bar, ordered a drink, and waited. Several of the locals approached the man and talked and he offered each an ugly scowl before turning away from them abruptly.

  Two others arrived, neither of whom Jamil had seen before, and were given wide berth by the other patrons. These men also ordered drinks, drank, and then left, nodding almost imperceptibly to the tall, lean man, who followed them out.

  Both Corishm or Angela had come in and left earlier. Jamil wondered if the three were going to ambush them. Almost all of the Guild activity he'd observed to this point was done individually, not in what looked like a posse.

  After a moment, Jamil rose, too. Following thieves required three skills - the ability to spot them in the shadows, the ability to hide in shadows oneself, and the ability to anticipate when to duck out of sight and when to reappear before the trail was lost. Lacking those, one could dangerously rely on a miraculous level of luck. Jamil didn't need any of that - the three thieves were nowhere to be seen.

  Now what to do? Every bone in his body was vibrating with the knowledge that this was it: Whatever was going to happen, was happening tonight, right then. He glanced up at the full moon that illuminated everything all too clearly with a bright, silvery sheen. Had the thieves stopped to make sure they weren't followed? Were they watching him already from some darkened doorway? He walked randomly away from the inn and stopped to make sure he wasn't being followed either.

  When he felt he was far enough away from the inn, he ducked into an alleyway. Thankfully finding it unoccupied, he climbed to the roof of one of the adjacent buildings. Laying flat, he inched to the edge and peered over, trying to see as much of the town as he could. Would there be activity to spot? Would he recognize it if there were? Was it just wishful thinking that brought him here?

  "Are you trying to get yourself killed?" Angela whispered harshly behind him. "You stand out like a bad tooth in a full smile. Come away from the edge."

  He slid backward until he could no longer be seen from the ground.

  "You're lucky I spotted you. What are you doing?"

  "Looking for the three men who just left the inn. They're doing something criminal."

  "Most everyone out here tonight is doing something criminal."

  "Yes, but they're doing it with intent. They pretended not to be together, but I saw the signal pass between them. I think the barmaid gave the one a full report of your activity."

  "Describe him?"

  "He's the one who came in with you that first night and showed you your room. Tall, thin, conceited attitude."

  "That's one of my fellow apprentices, Davies. He's been an apprentice since before I joined the Guild."

  "Well, that would be motivation. He'd want the town himself and is probably frustrated with your Guildmaster taking more apprentices."

  "We've got to get off the roof. I won't be the only one to come investigate why someone was up here in the moonlight." She crawled toward her grapple.

  "Were you able to talk with the Guildmaster?"

  "Of course. You go first."

  * * * * *

  Angela watched him clumsily lift over the side and go down the rope. She admitted he wasn't really clumsy, just did not possess the same caliber of skill as the people she normally went around town with. When he reached the bottom, she lightly jumped over and went down, quickly doing a release/grab cycle to avoid burning her hands. She flicked her wrist at the bottom to dislodge the grapple. She wound the cord as the grapple fell and neatly caught it before it could hit the ground. All this she secured at her waist. The entire procedure took less than half the time it had taken him to climb down.

  Rather than go out of the alley as he probably expected, she crossed and climbed in a window. He followed. She took him through three more buildings before stepping out into the street.

  Angela stopped and thought for a moment. "We need more people if we're going to search the town." She strode downhill toward the docks. Eventually, she ducked into an old shack that looked like it might be used to hold fishing supplies. She startled four dirty kids who were sleeping. They started to scramble out. "Hold up! It's me!" She pulled the ring off and turned back into herself.

  They circled around her joyfully. "Angie!!!! We heard you was dead!" "That's bustin'! How'd you do it?" "Can I try?"

  "Shhh! I've got myself one copper each for you if you help us find Davies."

  "We can find him, sure!"

  "Wait! Don't talk with him or anything. Just come back here and tell me where he is, in about twenty minutes."

  "Won't he be in the tunnels?"

  "Not tonight. And boys? Don't let on to anyone at all that you've seen me. If they ask what you are doing, say you are looking for scrappers."

  The kids discussed who would take which part of town and they ran off. She swung around to Jamil. "Now we wait."

  "Was that smart? They're certain to tell people."

  "Of course they will, but they'll only tell the other street kids. I'd bet at least three times as many come back for the copper."

  "What are scrappers?"

  "Drunk fools, passed out, who haven't been picked clean yet. We get quite a few, but rarely do you stumble upon them when they still have anything worthwhile on them."

  He grimaced.

  "Thank you for doing this," she said unexpectedly. "I know you don't want anything to do with the Guild."

  "I owe your father much. He's a good man."

  "He seems like it."

  "You know he'll give you everything and anything you ask for? Any life you'd want is yours for the taking."

  "He's a stranger to me. He forfeited any claim on me when he abandoned my mother years ago." Angela picked at the rough wood frame of the shack.

  "He didn't have a choice. If you'd talk with him instead of avoiding him like you've been doing, he'd tell you about it."

  Angela turned back to him, putting her hands on her hips. "And then I'd forgive him, be his little girl, wear dresses, confine myself to drawing rooms, and take up idleness? Not a chance. My home is in the Guild."

  "You say that with such bitterness. Have you considered that you'd have all the wealth you could want, you wouldn't have to risk being hung by a mob screaming, 'Hang the thief!'? You could live in the sunlight. If you stay with the Guild, you will spend your life in shadows, always hiding, never knowing when your luck might run out and you'd starve or be murdered. And in the Guild, it's worse - you will be forever commanded by monsters, forced to do horrible things. You could have such a better life!"

  "In exchange for my freedom."

  "You'll be less free in the Guild. It's an illusion."

  Angela clenched her teeth. The man just wouldn't give up. He didn't understand. "Tell me: You are loyal to my father, yes?"

  "Yes."

  "Because of what he's done for you?"

  "Yes. He rescued me from things I'd rather not talk about."

  "What would make you give up that loyalty and go away? If I offered you eight platinum to move inland, where you'd live like a king for the rest of your life, would you?"

  "Of course not. I'm here at his request, aren't I? I may not want to be involved in this lifestyle anymore, but I have the ability to help, so I am. You don't abandon your family."

  She nodded as if her argument were made. He frowned, missing the point, so she explained
gently, "I don't give up loyalty either. Lord Merryweather is more my father than Jason Thomas ever could be. He's in danger and I happen to have the ability to help him, so I will. I don't abandon my family either."

  One of the boys arrived back, panting. "He's at the Seer's house with Hands and Mic Evans. They're talking about killing you. I heard them."

  Hands and Mic Evans were non-geased, but competent guildmembers; Angela didn't know much about them besides their names. Angela handed the boy a lumpy pouch that Jamil estimated contained near forty coins. "Make sure everyone gets their fair share, eh? I'll hear if they don't."

  The kid nodded. "You be careful, Angie. He sounded real mean and crazy."

  "It's ok; I'm real mean and crazy, too." She slipped the ring back on and she and Jamil stepped out into the night.

  * * * * *

  Halfway to the Seer's house, Angela stopped and swore.

  "What?" Jamil asked.

  "I'm still geased not to harm anyone in the Guild from that initial audience."

  He also swore.

  Angela looked around, searching the shadows and tapping her foot. "You go back to the Inn and find Corishm and tell him what's happening. I'm going to get Lord Merryweather."

  Jamil shook his head adamantly. "No, you're defenseless. We need to stay together."

  "Do as I tell you," she snapped. Then, softer, she added, "I'm going in by my Master's private entrance and I can't show you that. It's more important that we have Corishm with us. We need him."

  Jamil swore again and ran back toward the Inn.

  Angela ducked into the next alleyway and ran as fast as she could. Her Master had already countermanded the 'no harm' order, but she couldn't risk Jamil getting killed. Davies was a superb fighter and he would have chosen his fellow traitors with care.

  The time was such that Court would be in its first hour. She slipped into one of the buildings, triggered a hidden passageway in one of the hallway walls, and dropped through another hidden trapdoor. She was not slowed by the assorted traps - these she knew intimately. She entered the den through the locals' entrance, stood near the skills area, and scanned the room. She spotted Corishm over at a card game and waved him over. A short time later, when her Master's gaze passed over her, she nodded, and she and Corishm left.