The winter plodded on until it was finally spring, and by then the thieves knew every corner of Big Belly’s hall intimately. All that was left to do now was wait for the snow to melt.
Althalus began to make excuses for frequent trips out to the courtyard, since he’d arbitrarily selected a snowdrift in a nearby mountain pass as a signal. “When that one disappears, so do we,” he’d told his fellow thieves.
It might have been sheer coincidence—although Althalus had become reluctant to use that word—but Galbak advised him that the clan customarily celebrated a certain event every spring. “Gosti was born in the early spring,” Galbak said. “We Arums don’t really keep very close track of days and months the way lowlanders do, so we celebrate Gosti’s natal day when the last of the snow melts off those hills across the river. It might not be very precise, but it’s close enough, I suppose.”
“It’s the thought that counts,” Althalus replied piously, pulling up the hood of his wolf-eared tunic.
“Are you cold?” Galbak asked.
“I’m getting a little draft on the back of my neck, that’s all.”
It was about a quarter of an hour later that the four thieves met in the stables. “Is something wrong?” Ghend asked.
“No, just the opposite,” Althalus replied. “I was talking with Galbak a while ago, and he tells me that it’s customary here to celebrate Gosti’s birthday, and as it so happens, the big party takes place when the snow melts off the surrounding hills. When an Arum says ‘celebrate,’ he’s talking about some fairly serious drinking, and the timing couldn’t be much better for us. By sunset, there won’t be a sober Arum in the fort, and by midnight, they’ll all be snoring and so stupefied that the fort could fall down around their ears and they wouldn’t even notice.”
“It’s made to order for us, isn’t it?” Khnom said with a broad grin. “Our celebration starts just after theirs comes to an end.”
“And they’ll all be too sick the next morning to chase us,” Gher exulted.
“It’s a peculiar sort of birthday present,” Ghend said with an evil grin, “but it will make this birthday one that Gosti won’t ever forget.”
“He’s been good to us,” Althalus observed, “so we do sort of owe him something, don’t we? The preparations should take them about a week, and that’ll give us plenty of time for our preparations. The back door of the hay barn might not be quite as important now, but let’s go ahead and use it anyway. There’s not much point in riding through that village outside the walls if we don’t have to. We’ll want to leave tracks on the ground, not in some wide-awake villager’s memory. Oh, there’s something else, too. After a winter of lounging around in this stable, our horses are probably going to be a little frisky, so we’ll want to ride that out of them before the big day rolls around. We’ll be in a bit of a hurry, I expect, so we won’t have the time to explain things to our horses.”
“You think of everything, don’t you, Althalus?” Ghend said.
“I certainly try. It’s the best way I know of to stay unhung.”
“How about decorations?” Gher suggested.
“That one went right past me, boy,” Khnom admitted.
“If we was to tenlike we was going out to get tree branches and other stuff to decorate that big room where they do all their eating and drinking, it’d give us a good excuse to ride off into the woods to work the kinks out of our horses, wouldn’t it? We’d be helping with the big party, and so we’d kind of fit right in, and nobody’d have no reason to guess we were thinking about anything but having a real good time.”
“Shrewd, Gher,” Ghend said. “Very shrewd. It’d also give us a chance to look over our escape routes in broad daylight.”
“I’ll suggest it to Galbak,” Althalus said. “We’d better get back before somebody misses us. Let’s all keep our eyes and ears open. We’re getting closer, so it’s time to start paying attention to what’s happening around us. We don’t want any surprises on Gosti’s birthday.”
Althalus and Gher waited in the stable while Ghend and Khnom crossed the courtyard, and then they sauntered into the hay barn. “Have you ever jumped out of a hayloft, Gher?” Althalus asked the boy.
“Why would anybody want to jump out of a hayloft?”
“For fun. You want a pile of soft hay to land on, though, so you’d probably better move this pile that’s in front of the back door and pile it up under the edge of the loft.”
“That’s a lot of hay to move, Althalus,” Gher protested.
“You can take your time, if you want. You don’t really have to get it out from in front of that door until the day of the party. If somebody comes in and catches you at it, just tell him that you’re moving the hay to give yourself something soft to break your fall.”
“This sounds like an awful lot of work, Althalus.”
“The pay’s pretty good. I’ll explain what you’re doing to Galbak—‘little boys get all fidgety by the end of winter,’ or something along those lines. If Galbak knows why you’re doing it, he won’t get excited about it.”
“Why am I always the one who gets stuck with these chores?”
“It’s part of your education, Gher. Besides, the exercise might be good for you.”
“You’re a mean person, Althalus.”
“It’s part of my job, Gher. Somebody has to get that haystack out from in front of that door. If Ghend and I do it, the Arums are going to get curious. If you do it and tell them why you’re doing it, they won’t even pay any attention to you. They’ll think you’re just playing.”
It was about noon the following day when Galbak went out into the courtyard, squinted at the hills rising steeply from the river gorge, and said, “Close enough. Gosti’s birthday’s five days from today.”
The clansmen all cheered.
“Is everything going to be ready?” Khnom asked that evening when the thieves met in the stable.
“Pretty much so, yes,” Althalus replied. “We still need to work the kinks out of our horses, but that’s about all. We won’t want to ride out in a group, though. Now that we’re getting closer to the time, we don’t want to be seen together, even for a few minutes. How’s your haystack coming, Gher?”
“I’ve still got quite a ways to go, Althalus,” the boy replied. “There’s an awful lot of hay piled up in front of that door.”
“I’ll see if I can get you some help.”
“How are you going to manage that?”
“Watch me, Gher.” Althalus smirked at him. “Watch and learn.”
When they returned to the great hall, Althalus was chuckling and shaking his head.
“What’s so funny, Althalus?” Galbak asked curiously.
“My young friend. Have you ever noticed that when you ask a little boy to do almost any kind of work, he starts sulking and complaining?”
“I’d never really paid that much attention. Now that you mention it, though, I suppose the idea of work does sort of rub little boys the wrong way.”
“When it comes to something that involves play, though, they’ll try to move a mountain. I was telling Gher about something my brothers and I used to do when we were boys, and it seems to have set his imagination on fire. We had a rickety old hay barn on our farm, and my brothers and I used to spend whole winters jumping out of the loft into the soft hay down below. Falling is sort of fun, if there’s something soft to come down on. Anyway, Gher decided that he’d really like to try it, and he’s been spending just about every waking moment moving that big haystack out in the barn over in front of the loft.”
“The devil you say!” Galbak laughed.
“You wouldn’t believe how he makes the hay fly.”
“What did you do after you’d jumped out of the loft, Althalus?” one of the other clansmen asked curiously.
“We’d climb back up the ladder and jump again,” Althalus replied. “We could use up whole weeks that way. It’s just about the closest thing to flying that anybody who doesn’t happen t
o have wings is ever going to get.”
“Well, now,” the clansman said speculatively.
The next morning, Gher went out to the hay barn and discovered that he had all kinds of help moving the haystack out from in front of that long-forgotten door. Then the jumping started, and the hay barn quickly became the most popular place in the compound. Gher was just a bit sullen about that. “I can’t even get up into the hayloft,” he muttered. “The Arums are lined up on the ladder all day long, so I never get a chance to jump.”
“Stop complaining,” Althalus told him. “They did your work for you, didn’t they? Let’s go run some of the kinks out of our horses. I need to talk with Emmy anyway.”
They rode out of the fort “to look for decorations,” and as soon as they were back into the trees, Althalus looked up. “I need to see you, Em,” he said into the vacant air above him.
“Bring them home, Eliar,” he heard her say just over his head, and a moment later, Eliar was standing on the trail ahead.
Althalus and Gher tethered their horses and followed the young Arum back into the tower room in the House.
“Was there something?” Dweia asked impishly.
“How long are you going to need Ghend’s Book, Em?” Althalus asked her. “If it’s going to be more than a few moments, we might have to come up with a way for Gher to distract Khnom.”
“You worry too much about that, love,” she told him. “You know that time’s not the same here as it is out there, but you always seem to forget.”
“So beat me. I just want to be sure that we won’t have any loose ends dangling about, Em. Let me run this through for you, and you can tell me if I’ve left anything out.”
“All right, pet.”
“We’re going to rob Gosti about midnight on his birthday. By then, everybody in his fort should be dead to the world; I’ll see to that personally.”
“I’ve been meaning to ask you about that, Althalus,” Bheid interrupted. “I’ve come across a few men who can swill down strong ale for a straight week and still be able to stand up. What’s going to happen if one of Gosti’s men suffers from that same peculiarity?”
“I’m already working on that, Brother Bheid,” Althalus smirked. “You remember Nitral, don’t you?”
“Of course. He’s the Duke of Mawor—the fellow who used liquid fire on the besiegers of his city.”
“That’s the one. That ‘liquid fire’ was a mixture of boiling pitch, sulphur, naphtha, and some fluid brewers can boil out of ordinary beer. That’s the fluid that gives beer or wine or mead its punch and makes men wobbly in the knees and fuzzy in the head. I’m going to see to it that the mead the partygoers are drinking at Gosti’s birthday party is strong enough to stand up by itself without any help from a cup. If that’s what they drink that evening, I’ll flat guarantee that nobody’ll be awake by midnight.”
“Typically devious,” Leitha observed.
“I won’t force anybody to drink it, Leitha,” he said with a feigned look of wide-eyed innocence. “If they want to drink it, that’s up to them, isn’t it? Pushing on, then. I’m going to suggest to Ghend that he and I should take care of the actual robbery while Gher and Khnom saddle up the horses and get the back door of the hay barn open. I’ll make sure that the robbery takes long enough for Gher to ‘deceive’ Khnom, pass Ghend’s Book to Eliar, and then stick it back in Ghend’s saddlebag after Emmy’s finished with it. Then Ghend and I can carry the gold to the stable, tie it to our saddles, and we’ll all ride out through the back door. Once we’re clear of the fort, we’ll split up. Ghend and Khnom will ride north toward Hule, and Gher and I’ll ‘tenlike’ we’re riding south toward Treborea. As soon as Ghend and Khnom are out of sight, though, Gher and I’ll pass our share of the gold to Eliar so that he can bring it back here, and then we’ll slip back into the fort and go to bed.” He paused. “Can anybody see any holes so far?” He looked around, but no one replied.
“All right, then,” he continued, “when morning rolls around, I’ll make some show of feeling delicate, and just ‘happen’ to notice that Ghend and Khnom don’t seem to be around anymore. Then I’ll just happen to ‘remember’ that I saw Ghend sneaking across the courtyard about midnight carrying something that seemed very heavy.”
“Will that be enough?” Andine asked. “If you’re going to poison everybody, they’ll be even more ‘delicate’ than you’ll be.”
“It’s not exactly poison, Andine,” he objected.
“Oh, really?” the tiny girl said. “My point was that if you’re too subtle, they won’t realize what you’re telling them.”
“Then I’ll have to be more obvious. I’ll get my point across, Andine, believe me. By the time the sun’s well up, Gosti’s men’ll be hot on Ghend’s trail.”
“There’s a hole, Daddy,” Leitha said triumphantly. “Didn’t you tell Ghend to stay off that north trail?”
“Of course I did. I don’t want him to see the tracks I’m going to lay down on that trail for Gosti’s men to find—or the tracks I’m going to leave running from the back door of the hay barn to the north trail. I’ll fix it so that even a blind man could follow Ghend. I think that takes care of my part. The rest is up to Gher.”
“And what are your plans, Gher?” Leitha asked the boy.
“I’m not too sure yet,” Gher admitted. “I’ll come up with something, though.” Then the tousle-haired boy gave Leitha a sly, sidelong glance. “Trust me,” he added in a fair imitation of Althalus’ favorite pronouncement.
“Oh, dear,” Leitha sighed. “Not you, too.”
Gher smirked. “It’s part of my education.”
The day before Gosti’s birthday was clear and bright, but Galbak’s face seemed mournful.
“What’s the trouble, my friend?” Althalus asked him.
“I was planning a surprise for Gosti,” the tall Arum said, “but I’m afraid it won’t work out.”
“What sort of surprise?”
“I thought it might be sort of fun if we woke him up on the morning of his birthday, carried him out to the hay barn, and threw him out of the loft.”
“It might have been fun for you, Galbak, but I don’t think Gosti’d have enjoyed it all that much. What made you change your mind?’
“The floor of the hayloft isn’t strong enough to support his weight. Jumping into that haystack is great fun, but crashing through the floor of the loft and coming down in the manure pile wouldn’t entertain Gosti very much.”
“You’re probably right,” Althalus agreed. “It would have been fun to see the expression on his face, though.”
As Althalus and Gher were returning to the bare room where they slept, Eliar spoke silently to Althalus. I just finished adding your concoction to the mead, the young Arum advised.
Not all the mead, I hope, Althalus replied.
No, Eliar said. The only crocks I doctored were the ten at the very back of that storeroom. The crocks at the front are only holding ordinary mead. They’ll drink those all down by evening. They won’t get into your “special mead” until after supper tomorrow evening.
Perfect, Althalus gloated, rubbing his hands together. I don’t want them to get completely frazzled until evening. A man who drinks himself to sleep by noon could wake up before midnight. Did you taste any of the “special” mead?
Emmy wouldn’t let me, Eliar replied a bit disconsolately.
I guess I’d better stop by the kitchen and find out if it’s as strong as it’s supposed to be. He hesitated slightly. You don’t necessarily have to tell Emmy about that, though, he added.
She’s standing right beside me, Althalus.
Oh? Althalus said. Hello, there, Em. How’s your day gone so far?
Mine hasn’t been too bad, her voice replied. Yours might start going to pot if you get carried away with your sampling, though.
Is that a threat, Em?
No, Althalus. It’s a promise.
Althalus turned and went back to the kitchen with Gher clos
e behind him. When they got there, Althalus dipped one drinking horn into one of the crocks near the front of the storage room and another into one from the back. The first horn of mead tasted fine; the second left him gasping and filled his eyes with tears.
“Did Eliar get it right?” Gher whispered.
“Oh, yes,” Althalus wheezed, trying to catch his breath.
“Won’t Gosti’s men notice the difference?”
“I doubt it. They’ll already be half drunk by the time they get to those last ten crocks. They’ll be too fuzzy-headed to know what they’re drinking.” Althalus squinted toward the kitchen door. “When we start getting on toward the end of the day, you might want to take a few horns of mead to the guards standing in front of the door to the strong room,” he suggested. “Start out with the ordinary stuff and switch to the strong stuff later on. Ghend’s a little too quick with his knife sometimes, so I don’t want those guards awake when the time for the robbery rolls around. I doubt that anybody in Gosti’s hall’s going to be sober enough to check on those guards, but let’s stay on the safe side. If the guards have had their throats cut, even the drunkest Arum’s likely to raise the alarm.”
“Are there always so many details in a robbery?” Gher asked. “Here lately, it seems like you’ve even been counting the leaves on that tree just outside the gate.”
“Well, I haven’t gone quite that far,” Althalus said, “but when you’re planning a robbery, you should always try to cover every possibility. The thief who thinks ahead, stays ahead.”
“I’ll remember that.”
“Good. Let’s go mingle with the clansmen. Gosti should be waking up soon. He hasn’t had anything to eat for six hours, and that’s usually about as long as he can go.”
“That’s why he sleeps in his chair at the table, isn’t it?”
“It’s one of the reasons, yes. The more important one is probably that he can’t walk anymore. He doesn’t get much exercise, and he weighs as much as a horse. I don’t think his legs would hold him anymore.”
The birthday celebration was fairly formal at the outset. Galbak made a rather stuffy speech to start things moving, and he concluded by proposing a toast to their huge Chief.
The Redemption of Althalus Page 77