The thieves guild, p.1
The Thieves Guild, page 1
The Thieves Guild
The Thieves Guild
Book One
Jake Kerr
Copyright © 2015, 2023 by Jake Kerr
All rights reserved.
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No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
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Portions of this book were previously published as The Guildmaster Thief
Los Angeles | Dallas
For John Joseph Adams
Contents
The Walled City of Ness
1. In the Shadow of the Wall
2. Karch
3. Caught
4. Off to See the Guildmaster
5. The Guildmaster Merchant
6. Alard
7. Back to the Four Corners
8. The Founders Day Parade
9. More Mischief
10. The Founders Day Banquet
11. Blame
12. Off to Prison
13. A Surprise Visitor
14. In the Sewers
15. Anger in the Tower
16. A Dark Cell
17. Across the Flats
18. Maela’s Plan
19. Through the Kitchen
20. Escape
21. Through the Front Door
22. Not Getting Caught
23. Picking Up the Pieces
24. The Safe House
25. Crossing the Bridge
26. The Old Quarter
27. An Expensive Boat
28. A Guild Welcome
29. Larsen’s New Plan
30. The Outlanders
31. Blade of the Guildmaster
32. The Golden Apple
33. Polo
34. Harvest House
35. The Tower Balcony
36. The Deputy Guildmaster
37. Orion
38. Infiltration
39. Teal’s Message
40. Orion’s Study
41. Caught!
42. The Old Quarter
43. The Mines
44. Outside the City
45. Deep in the Mines
46. A Difficult Path
47. The Hidden Map
48. With the Rangers
49. Larsen Receives a Report
50. Ambushed on the Great Road
51. A Blade in the Ash Fields
52. Escape
53. A More Important Duty
54. The Blade’s New Mission
55. A Discussion in the Shadows
56. The South Tunnel
57. Walking the Ash Fields
58. Books and Signs
59. Blood on the Bridge
60. A Steep Path
61. The Missing Books
62. Meeting in the Study
63. The Long Road
64. Orion’s Plans
65. In the Thieves’ Dungeon
66. Fires in the Flats
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The Walled City of Ness
1
In the Shadow of the Wall
A glorious Autumnal sunset provided a stark contrast between the stern guard in the light on the stone wall above and the two boys in the shadows on the ground below. Ralan grinned as he looked up and watched as the guard paused in his rounds. It was too perfect. He and Raef were standing next to a pile of tomatoes, and the guard stood still, looking out into the plains, his back an easy target with its white armor and robes shining brightly.
With Ralan and Raef in the shadows, the two of them could easily flee unseen. Of course, he had to convince Raef to throw the tomato at the guard first.
Ralan kicked his friend in the heel and pointed at the guard. "I bet you could hit him from here."
Raef looked up. “The guard?”
“Of course the guard!”
Reef stared at the guard for a moment, but then turned away. “Nah. He's too high, and I can barely see his shoulders behind the battlements."
“He's not even moving!" Ralan started juggling the tomatoes. He tossed one to Raef, who caught it with his right hand. "Come on, don't be a coward. He's thirty feet up. Besides, he won't leave his post to chase someone who just threw a tomato at him."
Raef started walking away. "No way, Ralan. The last time I took one of your challenges Captain Edgar whipped me so hard I couldn't sit for a week."
Grabbing Raef's arm, Ralan added, "I can understand being afraid of Captain Edgar, but a member of the White Guard?" Raef stopped and turned. He was scowling. Ralan had touched a nerve.
"Why do you want me to hit the guard so badly?" There was a suspicious tone in his voice.
"Because it's fun." Raef still looked unconvinced. "And it's a member of the White Guard. Have you forgotten last Founders Day?" Ralan glanced back over his shoulder at the guard, still standing with his back to them, his white robe blowing in a slight breeze. When Ralan returned his gaze to Raef, his friend was staring at the guard. "I think the least you owe them is staining one of their white robes."
Raef's eyes widened. He had been beaten by three off duty White Guards during the previous Founders Day when he was caught painting the statue of Elias, the Founder of the Knight Guild, a garish red. Raef looked at the tomato and then the guard. He was clearly debating payback. Ralan made sure not to remind Raef that it was Ralan himself who had egged him on to that mischief as well.
Raef looked at the guard, tossed the tomato up in the air, and caught it. "I could hit him."
"Of course you could!" Ralan slapped him on the back. "And look," he pointed along the base of the wall and into some shadows. The pile of smashed tomatoes that had oozed down from where they had been practicing tosses for the Founders Day parade was already hard to see. "You can run that way. He'll never see you that close to the Wall, and it's dark all the way to the highway."
Ralan realized he was very close to getting his friend to toss the tomato. "And I'll run this way." He pointed across the field toward the river in the distance. "He'll see me, and I'll draw his attention. You'll be long gone, and by the time anyone gets to the bottom of the Wall, I'll be across the river."
Raef looked around and nodded. "Give me another one. I might miss with the first."
"Good thinking." Ralan tossed Raef another tomato. He almost couldn't contain his glee. He really liked Raef, but it was just too easy to get Raef to do his mischief for him, and, in the end, that's what it was all about—doing maximum mischief with minimum risk.
"Wait until I hit him, and then you run toward the river." Ralan nodded. He hadn't lied to his friend—there was practically no way they could get into trouble. No one was remotely close to them, and the lengthening shadow of the Wall made escape a foregone conclusion.
Raef pulled his arm back and then paused. He looked at Ralan. "I wish the Guildmaster Knight rode in the cage during the Founders Day parade. I'd shower him with garbage from beginning to end." Ralan was taken aback by his friend's bitter tone, which hinted at restrained fury.
"Well, with Guildmaster Pietro dead, you never know!" Ralan added, referencing the late Guildmaster Thief, who would ride in the Founders Day parade while the populace would throw spoiled fruit and garbage at him, symbolically abusing him for the sins of thieves. How he put up with it, Ralan would never understand.
Raef ignored his comment, turned, and launched the tomato with his right hand. There was a thud, and Ralan enjoyed the moment. As Raef took off running, a large red stain spread over the back of the guard's cape. The guard looked down at his feet and then over the battlements toward where Ralan stood. Ralan could see the guard's face and caught his eye for a moment. He then sprinted for the river.
As expected, the guard didn't raise an alarm. Still, Ralan took care to turn down a few alleys between the Wall and the river. Near the docks, he stopped and bent over, panting for breath with his hands on his knees. He glanced around the riverfront as he stood back up. The only activity was the hustle and bustle of the shops preparing for the night and boats of every size ushering people up and down the river.
Ralan smiled and walked down river to the Merchant Guild slip. He had gotten away with it.
2
Karch
Karch squeezed the robe in his fist until his knuckles turned as white as the material. He didn't enjoy being the second most important person in one of several powerful guilds in Ness. He wanted to be the second most powerful person in the most powerful guild, and someday—the most powerful man, period. It was a timeline and plan he had helped nurture for years, and yet now Larsen's irresponsible and maddening little brother was about to ruin everything.
Ralan. If it had been up to Karch, the disrespectful welp would have been banished years earlier. He flaunted his lack of guild, as if it was due to his rebelliousness and not his ineptitude. He insulted Karch regularly, knowing that his brother would protect him. And perhaps worse than anything, he was constantly causing problems for he and Larsen's intricately laid plans. This was just one more example of that. Karch scowled. This mischief would be the last.
He knocked on the polished wooden door with his free hand. He caught a glimpse of his reflection in the brass plate that said, "Larsen Miller, Guildmaster Merchant," and Karch softened his features. When it came to Larsen's brother, he had to take care n ot to be too aggressive or insulting.
"Come in," came the tired voice of his Guildmaster. Karch turned the knob with his left hand while he slid the stained robe in his right hand behind his back. He entered, closed the door, and approached, both his hands behind him. He bowed his head.
"Guildmaster, I'm afraid we have a new problem with the Knight Guild." He looked up just as Larsen dropped his head against his hand, rubbing his temples with his fingers.
"Will this never end? What do they want now? More money? Does Saxe want me to apprentice more of his relatives? Do they want me to pay for the Masons to build their tower higher?" Larsen slammed his fist to the table. "I'm still dealing with Pietro's death. I swear, Karch, this has to end. Doesn't Saxe know we haven't yet eliminated the Harvest Guild? I'm just trying to avoid strikes or, gods forbid, bloodshed."
Karch did his best not to smile. He had arranged everything so perfectly—he paid the bribes, apprenticed the right children, gave the right gifts—that he didn't have to worry about any other complications than the one in his right hand, and that complication was about to be removed.
"Sir, this is an entirely different kind of problem." He brought his hand forward and laid the robe on Larsen's desk. A reddish brown stain marred the pure white of the rest of the robe. "Your brother insulted the Knight Guild by tossing a tomato at a member of the White Guard while he was on duty." Karch shook his head in an attempt to display a shocked sadness.
Larsen grabbed the robe and examined the stain. He looked up at Karch. "Are they positive it was Ralan?"
"Indeed, sir. The knight saw him clearly in the midst of a field at the base of the North Wall. He had presumably been practicing his throws for the Founders Day parade." Karch shrugged. "I'm sure he meant no harm."
Larsen's face turned red. His temper was famous across the city, and Karch had said the perfect thing to set it off. "Meant no harm? I've told him again and again that he had to stop these insults to my position as Guildmaster and to the reputation of his own family." Larsen started to drum his hand on his desk as his voice increased in volume. "I've had to protect Ralan from every guildmaster in the city over his continued misbehavior, and this is how he thanks me? By assaulting the guards who defend our walls?"
Karch leaned forward, "Not to mention, Guildmaster, that he has offended the one guild that could cause problems for your plan to merge the Merchant and Harvest Guilds."
Larsen's eyes opened a bit wider. "My patience is at an end, Karch." He grabbed the robe and threw it at him. "Find my brother and bring him here. My days of protecting him are over. We'll deliver him to Saxe and let the Knights take care of him."
The moment came for Karch to spring his trap. He would finally be able to rid himself of the impertinent Ralan. Karch almost couldn't restrain his smile as he considered Ralan living the rest of his life in degradation and isolation. And the beauty was that it brought his entire plan together—Ralan would no longer be an issue, and the last potential stumbling block to their plan to control Ness would be removed.
"Guildmaster," Karch began to fold the robe, "I'm afraid just giving Ralan to the Knights will only anger him. They won't hold him for very long for such a minor offense, and when they let him go, he will be even more uncontrollable." Karch looked at Larsen and was pleased to see him listening intently, his hands spread on the table. "I have a plan that I think will solve two of your problems at once."
Larsen leaned back, his face emotionless. "I'm listening."
3
Caught
These were the moments that brought joy to Ralan. Surrounded by both friends and strangers from various guilds, he loved to weave tales about his derring-do at fighting the officious Knight Guild or the greedy Merchant Guild or the dull Harvest Guild.
In the city-state of Ness, guilds ran everything, their distinct colors a mark of pride worn by every guild member. Not being in a guild required one to wear brown, and while it was commonly a sign of immaturity and a source of disparaging comments, for Ralan it was a sign of his independence and freed him to mock all guilds without the underlying tension of guild rivalry.
He leaned forward, spilling his ale a bit as he prepared to describe the helpless look on the knight's face as he turned after the tomato hit him square in the back. Of course Ralan wasn't stupid, he had to use the right story for the right crowd. He glanced one more time around the large table at the back of the Four Triangles, a working man's inn where he would find a sympathetic audience.
Most of the boys were apprentices to his brother's guild, all wearing the Merchant's deep blue robes. There were a few Harvest apprentices wearing their Greens, but there was nary a white tunic or piece of armor in the room. Ralan smiled and continued.
"It was beautiful. The tomato was just a bit too ripe, and it landed with a huge splat, right in the middle of the guard's back." He slammed the flat of his hand on the table. There were laughs and clapping. He had played the crowd perfectly—all apprentices chafed at the oversight of the knights and their white robes and armor.
He glanced at Raef, who looked glum. He had offered his friend the starring role, but as Ralan expected, Raef was horrified at the thought of his participation becoming public. Ralan gave him what he hoped was a conspiratorial wink and turned back to his audience.
"The best part is that he was staring right at me and couldn't see me in the shadows of the Wall. So I just winked at him and walked away." There was more laughter and more complimentary nods at his cleverness. One boy that Ralan didn't know slapped him on the back.
Ralan was in the midst of a large gulp of ale when the front door opened and everyone went silent. He turned to look at who arrived, and his stomach fell. It was his brother's deputy, Karch. He stood in his deep blue robe, his golden hair slicked back and tied behind his head. He always pulled it too tight, and it made his face look taut, narrowing his eyes to slits and his mouth to a thin, cruel, line.
The Merchant apprentices disappeared as Karch walked toward Ralan, a look of disgust on his face and his arms behind his back. Everyone else sank into their seats or slowly moved to other tables. Raef was nowhere to be seen. A few brave apprentices smiled expectantly at Ralan. He had nothing to lose, so he decided to show off. The worst case scenario was that he'd get a dressing down from his brother and Karch would give him a whipping.
"I didn't know you frequented these kinds of places, Karch." He smiled as Karch stopped next to him.
The deputy looked around and frowned. "You are correct, Ralan. But when one is collecting garbage, you need to walk among the filth." He turned back to Ralan and smiled. "Which reminds me, you are to come with me."
"I don't need to do any such thing, Karch." Ralan grabbed his brown shirt. "As you can see, I'm guildless, and you have no authority over me."
Karch smiled again, and Ralan started to get nervous. He was fully expecting a slap for his insolence, but that was usually preceded by an angry tongue lashing. A smile didn't mean anything good.
