Boneyard
Posted: 2003-05-22 06:23pm
Number 3 in my QfG series...
Boneyard
Mark Shantz
‘So you want to be a hero, eh?’ That’s what they asked me when I told everyone at the guild I was going after the Blackbird. Yeah, yeah, I know, they found it in Silmaria. I didn’t know then, but that’s beside the point.
Anyway, I had it from a reliable source (I thought) that the little treasure was actually somewhere right under our noses in Munsic. I figured that if anyone could pinch the thing it would be me. Especially since no one else was looking. Hell, no one else believed I would be able to pull the job off. It was supposed to be in the most heavily guarded estate in the area. The owner was some rich wacko or something.
Look at me now. Gagged, hands tied behind my back, hanging by my ankles from a tree in the Crow Fields. That’s what they do if you’re caught stealing. See, the Crow Fields are a small plot of land, sparsely dotted with the most gnarled, distorted excuses ever to be thought of as trees. It’s also got the biggest population of crows, ravens and other carrion eaters, that you’ll ever want to meet. No one knows why they started flocking there in such droves. I have a pretty good idea of why they keep coming though.
See, there are really only three punishments for crime in Munsic; banishment, beheading, and the Crow Fields. Lord Pringle never liked the idea of wasting money on a dungeon. And you’ll notice that I put those punishments in order of severity. Most people I know would much rather get a quick chop then the birds. Nothing but a bunch of light weights if you ask me. I could do the Crow Fields upside down, with my hands tied behind my back. Wait a minute...
Anyway, we all pretty much know what to expect from the first two. You get banishment for the blue blood, none violent type of crimes or the ones with special circumstances. Beheading, of course, is for your more major, heinous law-breakers; murderers, rapists, traitors, that sort of thing. Now, The Fields, as a punishment, encompass every other infraction that you can think of. Steal a pie out of a window; Crow Fields, break into the bank; Crow Fields, curse someone so that all their crops die; well, that one depends, it could actually either go Fields or beheading. You get the idea though. The thinking behind it is that a crime may not be serious enough to warrant an instant death but you’re still a criminal and therefore no good to society. So what can be done? Tie ‘em up and leave ‘em to feed the crows.
You have to understand that only the worst of the worst in this category actually die from the punishment. Most people have family who come and take them down pretty quick. For us in the guild, membership has its privileges. The idea is that if someone out there is actually willing to pull you down, or if you’re smart enough to figure a way down yourself, than you probably deserve a second chance. For the most part, the kids and the one-timers get scared straight and the rest of us get a good enough pecking to think about things a little more thoroughly next time.
So like I said, there I am, swinging from my ankles, with two of the fattest squawkers I’ve ever seen clinging to my hips and poking away at my legs. I went after the Blackbird and now I’ve got two. Don’t think the irony’s lost on me. And don’t think that the fact that it’s been three hours and no one’s come to get me is lost either.
I wiggled and thrashed a bit to get my two friends moving. It worked for one anyway, the other just held on tighter and cawed down at me. I actually caught a whiff of the poor sap hanging limply from the next tree over on its breath. Can you believe that? It kind of unnerved me. What did I do? Started screaming and swearing at the thing. It didn’t seem to understand though. Hell, I couldn’t understand myself with the stupid gag muffling everything.
He didn’t take off but it seemed to get him to stop tearing at my pants so I collected myself and got down to the business of getting down. What I needed was a dagger. Oh yeah, they were all taken away when I was caught. Trapped more like it, but I’ll get into that later. It was getting dark and it’s bloody cold out at night this time of year.
What else could I use? A ring with a blade under the stone? No, all of my jewellery had been taken too. My teeth? Gagged, and quite frankly I don’t have the stomach muscles for that. Yep, I’d be pretty much screwed if it wasn’t for the fact that I’ve pulled enough people out of this place (and been pulled a couple of times too) to have thought about the situation of not having any help. That’s me, always thinking about how to save my own ass.
Well, it took a bit of time with these hands the way they were, but after twisting and struggling for a while I managed to get a couple of fingers on my belt buckle. I had a little knife hiden in there, see. And I had made that old, tarnished buckle look like such crap too, so I knew none of the guards would want to take it.
My little friend watched all of this with a curious, beady eye and even let me go for a while to fight with his chums. I though I was free to start getting free in peace, but no, he came back. And he brought four others with him too.
It took a little more time to get my wrists cut loss. It takes a very sharp blade to be able to make any progress on a rope when you can only use the strength of two fingers. Eventually I got it though, and I made those feathery bastards pay. Well, I made them fly away in a fit anyway.
A few more seconds and I was swinging to the ground and replacing my little saviour back into hiding. With that done, I gave myself a good stretch and a few moments for the blood to run back out of my head to the rest of my body. It was touchy there for a second but I didn’t blackout. In this weather that wouldn’t have been a nap I would have woken up from.
From the Crow Fields I made my icy way as fast as I could to the city cemetery. I was going to visit my good friend Sir Morris Von Lesses. I’ve never actually met the good knight, he’s been dead for quite some time now, I believe, but I’ve always admired the ma’s tomb. That’s where I keep my emergency supplies. A few clothes, a cloak, my old tool kit (not as good as the one that got confiscated not too long ago but still as useful as it ever was), a select number of weapons, a small supply of medicines, and a stash of money. Just the thing to help a man on the run.
The boneyard was the perfect place too. It was outside the city and most of the folk in the area were pretty sure it was haunted. I admit, I didn’t always like the feel of the place on nights like this but hey, no dead guys would try and take my stuff, would they?
Now that I was better fitted for the weather and the work I had ahead of me, I took a shortcut back into town and quietly headed for the first place I could think of to get some answers. I was considerably annoyed at being set up and left to hang, as you can image, and I wanted to get to the bottom of things before whoever had tried it, tried it again. The face that came to me? Fritz Kabeloff.
Fritz was the ‘reliable source’ I spoke of earlier. And he usually was! That’s what pissed me off most. We had such a long history of business together and he sold me out! Just like that!
I let myself into his house, cramped as it was between two others of almost exactly the same construction, and snuck over to the easy chair where he was taking his pre-dinner snore. Fritz is a portly man to say the least. Never too busy for a meal but always too busy to lend a hand when hard labour is on the line. You can tell by his podgy hands that he’s never worked a straight job in his life. That’s a good forty-year career of avoiding work, you know. I bet he had a full mane at the beginning of that career. Now, that chestnut hair of his is nothing more then a ring from temple to temple.
Funny how surprised he looked when I woke him up. I wish I could show him that face of his. Was it me he was surprised at though, or the dagger I had pointing at his right eye?
“Billy!” He blurted after a convulsive intake of air. It was that breath that we’ve all taken when being pulled back into harsh reality. “But you’re... You’re...” He couldn’t get past that. Maybe it was the dagger he couldn’t get past. His eyes seemed to dart back to it a lot anyway.
“Glad to hear you haven’t totally forgotten who I am yet, you fat bastard,” I put a knee on his chest and moved the gleaming blade to his throat. “Why’d you do it Fritz? Why’d you set me up!? And why shouldn’t I spill your fat guts all over this dusty floor of yours?”
“I... I... I...,” he stammered up at me. He was obviously having trouble collecting his thoughts so I decided to help him with a swift crack to the head.
“You sound like one of those damn talking birds from the south, Fritzy. Spit it out! Why would you do such a thing after all the years you’ve worked for me? Haven’t I paid you fairly for everything you’ve told me? Didn’t I help you out when you lost all that money on the fights and those thugs were going to break your legs? This really makes me mad! You know that Fritz? Do you!?”
“It wasn’t me Billy. I swear it!” He had that frantic look in his eyes that’s usually reserved for people seeing ghosts. “I would never do a thing like that to you! Come on Billy, you know me.”
“I know you alright.” I looked into those eyes of his and saw my reflection in them. He flinched as I gave him another smack to the head.
“Come on!” He started to raise a hand to his throbbing scalp but decided against it as my blade bit into the flesh of his neck. “Just get off me so we can talk. Come on.”
I stared silently at that chubby face for a good minute before making a move. I finally let up though, and took a seat across from him. He immediately wiped his face and rubbed his neck. After taking a moment for a couple breaths he turned his attention back to me. For the most part. He couldn’t hide that his eyes were darting everywhere, looking for some way to escape. He wasn’t going anywhere.
“God Billy, I thought you were dead. I felt terrible.” His tone was more conversational now. Maybe he thought he was in the clear. Maybe he was trying to convince himself of that.
“Yeah, so terrible you had to come home and take a nap. Thanks. I didn’t know we were so close. Enough of the bull, Fritz. Start talking or that right eye is coming with me.” He saw that I was serious and started getting nervous again.
“Hay, relax,” he held his hands up defensively. “I was shocked when I heard you’d been tagged by the guard. I was sure that the next time I saw you it was going to be with the ‘bird. I swear...”
“That’s just it, you fat piece of crap! I did get the Blackbird! It was a fake! You told me it was going to be the real thing...”
“I thought it was,” there was a look of exasperation on his face. “There are a lot of fakes out there, Billy. You know that.”
“Yeah,” I pointed my dagger in his direction. “But this one happened to come with a patrol waiting for me outside the house! They knew I was there...”
“I didn’t tell anyone! I swear! I had no idea that’s how it had gone down. All I heard was that you’d been caught by the guards red handed and had gone to the Field. If the guild doesn’t want to pull you down that’s none of my business. Maybe you should pay your dues on time.”
“Funny,” I thought old Fritzy was getting too comfortable so I tossed the dagger past his head. There were more where that came from. “You’re either lying to me or someone was lying to you. If the first is true, I’m going to cut out your tongue. If the second is true, I’m either going to have to find another tongue or I’m going to take yours anyway.” Another dagger appeared in my hand.
Fritz was sweating a little bit more and licking his lips. “I tell you Billy, I’m not lying. I overheard three merchants talking about bringing it here from Gaza at the Boar and Barrel. It’s like I told you before, they were all pretty wealthy so it seemed plausible. I’ve never lied to you before, why would I start now.”
“Were they from here or were they foreign?”
“Foreigners from Gaza. That’s all I know of them”
“That’s all you know, eh?” He was telling the truth. If he wasn’t, he was the best actor I’d ever seen. I’d known Fritz a long time and he was no actor. Besides, no one lying would be that close to wetting themselves.
“I swear.” He really did sound like one of those talking birds.
“So you’ve said.” I waved the knife around a little to watch his eyes follow it. “And if that’s true, someone used you to get to me so that they could cover their tracks.” I got up from my chair and walked to the backdoor. Fritz’ gaze kept with me step for step. I was really thinking out loud more than talking to him though.
I was just about to open the door and slink away into the night when I thought of something else. “Oh yeah, Fritz.” He looked at me from over the back of his pillowed chair and said nothing. “How did you know that the guild wasn’t going to get me down this time?”
Wrinkles of confusion creased his flab for a second before he spoke. “I was talking to Roc at Maggie’s. He told me about you and said that Old Nick put the word out. No one was to touch you. The whole thing stank like a set-up to him and whatever was going on, no one else was going to get tagged for association. You know, in case you were being watched.”
“Thanks Fritz,” I gave him one last thing to think about as I disappeared. “If that’s the case, I hope I lost them before I got here. Otherwise... Sleep tight Fritzy.”
Then I was gone. I didn’t look back to see if he was trying to find me in that dark alley, he wasn’t going to. I had other things to think about. Like who to see next. Do I try to find the so-called ‘merchants’ and make them tell me who they worked for, do I talk to Roc, he was a major player in the guild, or do I go straight to Old Nick with this? Whatever the answer, I decided that first things were first. I had to get home and feed my cat.
It took a little bit of time to get from Kabeloff’s to my place above the dry goods store. I was taking it slow, keeping to the shadows and back alleys. I figured I would be better off at this point with as few people knowing I was still alive as possible. I made it in one piece though, and took the rickety staircase on the outside of the building up to my unassuming door.
Out of habit I gave a listen before I made a move for my keys. Nothing, good. I fit the key in the lock and swung the door open, grabbing for the unlit candle I knew would be on the table by the door.
“Where are you, Finn?” I called into the total blackness as I closed the door and felt for the tinderbox.
He answered me with a squawk from somewhere across the room and thumped to the floor. But that couldn’t have been Finn. Not unless he had grown to about two hundred pounds and had bought himself a pair of boots. You never know...
I dropped the candle and tinderbox and dodged to the left just in time to feel the breeze of a club rushing past my head and hear the bang as it contacted the tabletop. Diving to the side, I rolled as far as I could in the confined space of the room and came up with a dagger in each hand. I couldn’t see a thing in the inky darkness and was running totally on hearing and luck. Hopefully my opponent was doing the same.
I dropped into a defensive crouch and slashed out with the knives. I caught nothing.
I heard the club fly through the air off in the dark. Finn hissed in agitation as my attacker stepped back into whatever he was sitting on.
“Thanks little buddy,” I commented as I flipped one dagger in my hand and tossed it towards the commotion. A second later the blade thumped into the far wall and a rough chuckle issued from the void.
I knew what was coming next. I hunkered down and got ready for the charge. From the laugh, whoever this was didn’t think I had another dagger. He obviously didn’t know me very well.
The heavy foot falls thundered across the room at me as I waited. At the last moment, when I could feel his breath on me, I fell to my knees and thrust my dagger up into his unsuspecting abdomen. His arms brushed the top of my head and his hands clapped in an unrequited bear hug.
As I pushed the dull, blackened metal of the blade up into yards of entrails, a river of blood ran down my arm. The warm, thick liquid drenched my clothes as it drained from my assailant, taking his life with it. In a moment of gasping and gurgling his legs wobbled and finally collapsed from under him.
I withdrew my weapon (I think it had made its way up into his lungs) and slit his throat for good measure. I had no intentions of letting this guy find some final, inner strength to drag me down with him. When that was done I fumbled over to the table by the door again and lit that candle.
Light spilled over the battlefield as that tiny flame came to life. Finn was sitting on a cabinet, cleaning himself, there was a body on the floor producing an ever-expanding pool of blood, which my good Rasierian carpet was sopping up, and someone had gotten into my bottle of whiskey. I gave that ‘someone’ a kick in his lifeless head.
I had to act quickly now or the carpet would reach its limit and the blood would find its way down to Mr. Gruffit’s store. He’d be more pissed then I was, if you can imagine that. First, I had to pull all the furniture off of the rug. I then rolled the edges up and dragged the whole thing, with the body in it, out on to the staircase. A cold north wind had picked up and bit into my ears as I stepped onto the ledge. Now that I had the thing outside, I had to figure out what I was going to do with it. Burying a body was the last thing I had wanted to do tonight. Especially one this big.
The gusting air died down as I opened the rug enough to examine my attacker. He was a large, well muscled bloke. One of those no neck types. It was obvious that he was your typical hired thug. I recognised the square jawed, fight-mangled features from around town but we had never met. Brutes like this have their place but I’m more of a finesse man. These Guys are usually too stupid to get things right anyway. Everything always ends up as a blood bath. Case in point...
After my little investigation, I left the stiff out on the deck for the time being and went back inside. I had to clean myself up and I still had to feed the cat. He was pretty mad at me being so late and followed from the door, to the cupboard, to his bowl, scolding me all the way. I hardly had a chance to cut the strip of dried meat up for him before he was pushing my hands out of the way and digging in.
“So how long was that guy sitting here waiting for me?” I gave Finn’s fluffy, black and tan coat a stroke as I asked. He didn’t answer. He was ignoring me. Nothing got between him and a meal.
Now, not only had someone set me up (or at the very least tipped the guards off about my job) and left me to die, they had checked on my corpse and sent hired muscle to finish me off. Enough kidding around here, I was going to take this up with the top man himself. I was going to go see Old Nick and, if he was involved, I’d show him his heart. Chief or not.
First things first though. There was still the matter of the rug-rolled body on my front step. I had to get rid of that lummox before I did anything else. Let me tell you, it took a good two hours to haul that stupid lump through five blocks of back alleys, down to the riverbank. Especially when I had to wait for the guard patrols to pass three times.
Once I was there though, it didn’t take long to make a quick disposal. It was just a matter of taking one of the old, rickety row-boats moored up in the mud, dumping the package in it, and emptying the rest of that bottle of whiskey on it (I had put the bottle into the bag at my side before leaving). The whole thing lit up in a flash and floated away into the cold night like a Northman’s funeral. I was pretty sure it would be spotted fairly soon but by that time any evidence against me would be long since burned.
Again, now I had to get back to business. All these distractions were starting to add up. Lucky, my end destination wasn’t too far from here. I was headed for pier seven, to a little public house called the Blind Man’s Bluff. Not to steady my nerves for the confrontation ahead though. ‘The Bluff’ happened to be the place with a certain storage room, a room with a certain plain, wooden door. That door was the start of a tunnel that led to a place beneath the city that only a select group of people knew about. The thieves guild.
At the end of the tunnel was a man that made my attacker look like a small girl. I think he was a Goon. At least in part anyway. He looked as shocked at the sight of me as I looked angry at the thought of him even thinking of making me give the sign.
“Uh, Billy. You’re alive.” Jarvis had a fine grasp of the obvious.
“Thanks big guy,” I slapped him on the shoulder and gave him an acid grin that was probably lost on him. “I was beginning to wonder.”
When I kicked open the door to the guildhall all eyes turned and silence rushed around the room like a dragon circling a helpless village. Some smiled, some stared in gapped wonder. The man I was looking for parted from the group he was talking to with genuine surprise lighting his face. It seemed genuine anyway. You never could tell with that wily coot.
“Billy Gallows! You’re alive!” Old Nick spread his arms as if inviting a hug. There was no way I was getting that close. Not yet.
“Yeah. I’ve been getting that a lot lately.”
Nick was a man in his seventies. Sixty of those years had been spent on the wrong side of the law in one form or another. He had been the chief of this guild since before I had even been born and was like an icon. A thief in Munsic couldn’t think of the guild without thinking of Old Nick.
He had once been a large man, I suspect. Well built and in top form. That muscle had long since softened and sagged. Now he was shrunken and round, with a face like a weathered saddlebag.
“Roc told us that he saw you get killed before they strung you up. I’ve seen the pigs get over excited before, it wasn’t hard to believe.” Nick lowered his arms and went to sit in his thickly padded chair by the fireplace. He looked like everyone’s grandpa.
“He must have been wrong. By the gods boy, if I had known, we would have come and got you. Not that it made a difference I see. You’ve always been a resourceful one.”
“Yeah,” I cut in. “I’m full of surprises. And I must really be impressive to everyone here,” I held my arms out to the sides and spun to take in everybody, “considering someone was sent to my place to kill me again. Or am I suspected of being undead?”
“Enough of that talk boy!” Nick never joked about the undead. And he never talked about them either. He was mad at the accusation I had never actually said and his anger brought life back into his face. “Now come here and sit down! You think I’d set you up?! Use your head Gallows! You’re one of my best producers. Do you have any idea how much money I make off of you? Hell, if you’d pay your guild fees on time once in a while you’d be perfect. Besides, if I were to put a hit out on you, you’d be dead.”
His face softened again and he leaned back into that big chair. He was old again. “Look Bill, you have a right to be mad. I can’t count how many times I’ve been double-crossed. But think. You never think unless the money’s on the line. How could you expect to walk right in here if I wanted you ‘offed? You never would have gotten a step past Sally ‘Razors’. You’re good boy, but not ‘Sally’ good.”
He was right. Of course. Sally was the best assassin in town. Hell, she was the only legitimately trained assassin in town. Others showed up from time to time but they always seemed to just... disappear. I looked over to where she was standing and she smiled coyly at me.
“Now tell me,” the big man continued. “Who is it that you’re thinking of? Besides me that is.”
“Don’t give me that crap, old man,” I was pushing my luck being so forward but it had been a rather long day. “Nothing happens in this town without you knowing about it. Are you going to give me some answers or do I have to wait for someone else to take a shot at me?”
The old man held his words for a moment and just looked at me. I didn”t know whether he was going to hit me or start laughing. Finally, a slight smile pulled at the corner of his aged mouth and he grabbed my shoulder. “You kids today need to learn a little more patience. We both know who you’re looking for, would it kill you to humour an old man and listen to his advice for a while?” He leaned back in his chair, grabbed a prod and stoked the fire before turning back to me. “Yes, I suppose it would, wouldn’t it.
“Well I’ll tell you something.” He leaned in to me so that only I could hear him speak. “You’re never going to run a guild someday if you can’t learn patience.”
Old Nick gave me a wink as he drew away again and I wondered what he was up to. Who said anything about running the guild? That sounded too much like work for me.
“I think you need to talk to Roc,” Nick continued. Damn right I did! “He’s in the cemetery waiting for you.”
“Thanks Nick, that’s all I needed to know.” I rose and spun in one fluid motion and stalked purposefully towards the door. “I’ll tell him you said hi right before I cut his throat. You just start thinking about who’s going to be your new Second.”
“Go easy on him, boy,” the chief called to my back with a chuckle. “You may like what he has to say.”
I wasn’t in the mood for forgiveness. I raised my hand in a dismissive wave and pulled the hood of my cloak over my head in preparation for the cold. No one batted an eye in the Blind Man’s Bluff as I pushed my way through the crowd and out the front door. They were all the sort that, as a rule, didn’t see anything unless it was happening to them directly.
Coming out into the icy night air again, I darted straight for the nearest alley. A quick sign to the two small-timers waiting in ambush and I was on my way. Back through the maze of shadows and dark corners I drove, cutting a way through the city to the wall nearest to my destination. I wouldn’t be taking the route I used earlier tonight, it was far faster then the way I was going but he’d be watching it. I was taking the long way. Hell, I might even make up an entirely new path, just to make sure.
Over the wall I climbed, and down to the field on the other side. The tree line of the forest glistened in the moonlight, far off on the other end of the rows of harvested corn. I ran for it, cloak flying behind me like wings, and in no time I was amongst the trees, creeping between massive trunks without a sound.
I took my time and came upon the boneyard slowly. At the edge of the woods I scanned the area and saw no one. With no idea of where Roc was going to be, it was going to be harder to sneak up on him. I had no way of figuring out my best path and could only start at one end and creep my way to the other.
So that’s what I did. Slinking along from one stone to the next, taking a good look around, and then slipping off again. I finally caught up with my prey not far from good ol’ Von Lesses. Roc Mason, Old Nick’s right hand man and the second in command of the thieves guild in Munsic. He was sitting at the feet of some stone saint, looking about as comfortable as my cat just about anywhere. He also looked like he was listening. To what I couldn’t say. Probably for me.
Roc was an excellent thief. One of the best, in fact. That’s why he was the guild’s second. I thought about this as I made sure my daggers were nice and loose in their sheaths. He really was one of the best, better then me even. It probably wouldn’t be a good idea to confront him head on. Better to plug a few blades in his back from here before going in for the kill.
I watched for the longest time as he sat motionless, waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike. When the cloud cover blinked the moon’s silent stare out and all went dark, I made my move. A dagger leapt from my hand and mutely spun towards its target. He had no clue. He wouldn’t stand a chance.
Or maybe he would. Instead of the soft thud I was expecting, the knife hit home with a silent flash of light and went careening off into the night to spark against a nameless tombstone somewhere in the distance.
“Nice shot, Gallows,” Roc stood and faced the direction of my attack. I had already moved to another location. “Magic protection. Come on out! We need to talk!”
That’s right, Mason had picked up a few tricks in his day, hadn’t he. “Start talking then,” I shouted from the darkness and immediately darted to a new hiding spot. Always keep an opponent on their toes. “I’ll keep testing that spell of yours.” I threw a dagger and continued on my way. “Let’s hope I hear something good before it wears out.”
“Quit being such an ass, Billy, and get out here!” He caught that last dagger! He actually caught it! “I’m the last person you want to kill right now. If you’d stop for a second you’d find out why.
“I really don’t know what you’re all pissed about. You’re the one who had to go after the Blackbird. You’re the one who had to be a hero. And you even blabbed to everybody that you were going to do it! You had to have expected someone to do something. You should have been prepared. At any rate you’ve got to learn to keep your mouth shout, that’s for sure.
“Now, that being said, I have to admit that, yes, I was the one who set you up.” I threw another dagger. It disappeared into the shadows. “Hay! I wasn’t trying to kill you, bastard! It was a test!”
“What?!” I was beside myself. “You brought a fake ‘bird here, tried to have me killed twice, and told everyone I was dead, for a test?! Of what?! My patience?!”
“Partly. It takes an extremely resourceful thief to be able to pull that Blackbird job the way you did, plus escape the Crow Fields, plus find your rat. I needed to know you were up to the challenge of being my Lieutenant.”
“And what makes you think I’m not going to go straight to Old Nick right now and tell him what you’re planning.” It would mean big things if I saved the Chief’s life. Something good may come of this night after all.
“Well,” Roc replied, looking right in my direction now. “For one, the old guy’s probably asleep by now. And two, he already knows. I’m not playing around with you here, Gallows, this is for real. Now get out here so we can talk like civilized men.”
“Civilized, eh?” I said as I stepped around the corner of a hulking mausoleum. “What could represent civilization more than two professional thieves?” It was a rhetorical question and Mason ignored it.
“Finally,” he spread his arms in a gesture of submission. “I’m unarmed. You can check if you want.”
“I’ll stay over here thanks. You just say your piece,”
Roc shrugged and turned to find his seat under the stone saint. “You have to have seen the Chief slowing down. He’s tired and he says he’s had enough. He’s moving to Silmaria to retire in the sun and that means that I need a second in command after I take over. That’s you.”
“So you put me through all that crap? I nearly killed Fritzy. Hell, I was prepared to kill the Chief and I did have to kill that hit man.” All he gave me was another shrug.
“Think of it this way,” Roc got up and started slowly toward me. “It really wasn’t anything you couldn’t handle, I knew that before this all started or I wouldn’t have considered you. And because of it you’re going to be making money off little punks even if you don’t pull another job again.”
That I could get in to.
Roc held out his hand and waited for me. I stood staring into his eyes for what seemed like an eternity until finally giving in and pushing my hand into his. I was still mad as hell but Old Nick was right; If there’s any time that I actually do use my brain, it’s when money’s on the line. I could tell I would be making a lot of money off of Roc Mason.
“So what’s my first duty as a guild ‘High Muckimuck’?” We both turned and started back for the city.
“Well Billy,” he said to me casually, not bothering to look back to where I was following. “First you have to put that dagger in your hand back in its sheath.” He was good, I’ll give him that. “After that, we just have to go on a little tour to meet some of the other guild heads and solidify my power over Munsic. Political blahblah, you know.”
“Alright,” I replied, pulling my cloak a bit tighter around myself. “But before we go I need to find someone to look after my cat.”
Boneyard
Mark Shantz
‘So you want to be a hero, eh?’ That’s what they asked me when I told everyone at the guild I was going after the Blackbird. Yeah, yeah, I know, they found it in Silmaria. I didn’t know then, but that’s beside the point.
Anyway, I had it from a reliable source (I thought) that the little treasure was actually somewhere right under our noses in Munsic. I figured that if anyone could pinch the thing it would be me. Especially since no one else was looking. Hell, no one else believed I would be able to pull the job off. It was supposed to be in the most heavily guarded estate in the area. The owner was some rich wacko or something.
Look at me now. Gagged, hands tied behind my back, hanging by my ankles from a tree in the Crow Fields. That’s what they do if you’re caught stealing. See, the Crow Fields are a small plot of land, sparsely dotted with the most gnarled, distorted excuses ever to be thought of as trees. It’s also got the biggest population of crows, ravens and other carrion eaters, that you’ll ever want to meet. No one knows why they started flocking there in such droves. I have a pretty good idea of why they keep coming though.
See, there are really only three punishments for crime in Munsic; banishment, beheading, and the Crow Fields. Lord Pringle never liked the idea of wasting money on a dungeon. And you’ll notice that I put those punishments in order of severity. Most people I know would much rather get a quick chop then the birds. Nothing but a bunch of light weights if you ask me. I could do the Crow Fields upside down, with my hands tied behind my back. Wait a minute...
Anyway, we all pretty much know what to expect from the first two. You get banishment for the blue blood, none violent type of crimes or the ones with special circumstances. Beheading, of course, is for your more major, heinous law-breakers; murderers, rapists, traitors, that sort of thing. Now, The Fields, as a punishment, encompass every other infraction that you can think of. Steal a pie out of a window; Crow Fields, break into the bank; Crow Fields, curse someone so that all their crops die; well, that one depends, it could actually either go Fields or beheading. You get the idea though. The thinking behind it is that a crime may not be serious enough to warrant an instant death but you’re still a criminal and therefore no good to society. So what can be done? Tie ‘em up and leave ‘em to feed the crows.
You have to understand that only the worst of the worst in this category actually die from the punishment. Most people have family who come and take them down pretty quick. For us in the guild, membership has its privileges. The idea is that if someone out there is actually willing to pull you down, or if you’re smart enough to figure a way down yourself, than you probably deserve a second chance. For the most part, the kids and the one-timers get scared straight and the rest of us get a good enough pecking to think about things a little more thoroughly next time.
So like I said, there I am, swinging from my ankles, with two of the fattest squawkers I’ve ever seen clinging to my hips and poking away at my legs. I went after the Blackbird and now I’ve got two. Don’t think the irony’s lost on me. And don’t think that the fact that it’s been three hours and no one’s come to get me is lost either.
I wiggled and thrashed a bit to get my two friends moving. It worked for one anyway, the other just held on tighter and cawed down at me. I actually caught a whiff of the poor sap hanging limply from the next tree over on its breath. Can you believe that? It kind of unnerved me. What did I do? Started screaming and swearing at the thing. It didn’t seem to understand though. Hell, I couldn’t understand myself with the stupid gag muffling everything.
He didn’t take off but it seemed to get him to stop tearing at my pants so I collected myself and got down to the business of getting down. What I needed was a dagger. Oh yeah, they were all taken away when I was caught. Trapped more like it, but I’ll get into that later. It was getting dark and it’s bloody cold out at night this time of year.
What else could I use? A ring with a blade under the stone? No, all of my jewellery had been taken too. My teeth? Gagged, and quite frankly I don’t have the stomach muscles for that. Yep, I’d be pretty much screwed if it wasn’t for the fact that I’ve pulled enough people out of this place (and been pulled a couple of times too) to have thought about the situation of not having any help. That’s me, always thinking about how to save my own ass.
Well, it took a bit of time with these hands the way they were, but after twisting and struggling for a while I managed to get a couple of fingers on my belt buckle. I had a little knife hiden in there, see. And I had made that old, tarnished buckle look like such crap too, so I knew none of the guards would want to take it.
My little friend watched all of this with a curious, beady eye and even let me go for a while to fight with his chums. I though I was free to start getting free in peace, but no, he came back. And he brought four others with him too.
It took a little more time to get my wrists cut loss. It takes a very sharp blade to be able to make any progress on a rope when you can only use the strength of two fingers. Eventually I got it though, and I made those feathery bastards pay. Well, I made them fly away in a fit anyway.
A few more seconds and I was swinging to the ground and replacing my little saviour back into hiding. With that done, I gave myself a good stretch and a few moments for the blood to run back out of my head to the rest of my body. It was touchy there for a second but I didn’t blackout. In this weather that wouldn’t have been a nap I would have woken up from.
From the Crow Fields I made my icy way as fast as I could to the city cemetery. I was going to visit my good friend Sir Morris Von Lesses. I’ve never actually met the good knight, he’s been dead for quite some time now, I believe, but I’ve always admired the ma’s tomb. That’s where I keep my emergency supplies. A few clothes, a cloak, my old tool kit (not as good as the one that got confiscated not too long ago but still as useful as it ever was), a select number of weapons, a small supply of medicines, and a stash of money. Just the thing to help a man on the run.
The boneyard was the perfect place too. It was outside the city and most of the folk in the area were pretty sure it was haunted. I admit, I didn’t always like the feel of the place on nights like this but hey, no dead guys would try and take my stuff, would they?
Now that I was better fitted for the weather and the work I had ahead of me, I took a shortcut back into town and quietly headed for the first place I could think of to get some answers. I was considerably annoyed at being set up and left to hang, as you can image, and I wanted to get to the bottom of things before whoever had tried it, tried it again. The face that came to me? Fritz Kabeloff.
Fritz was the ‘reliable source’ I spoke of earlier. And he usually was! That’s what pissed me off most. We had such a long history of business together and he sold me out! Just like that!
I let myself into his house, cramped as it was between two others of almost exactly the same construction, and snuck over to the easy chair where he was taking his pre-dinner snore. Fritz is a portly man to say the least. Never too busy for a meal but always too busy to lend a hand when hard labour is on the line. You can tell by his podgy hands that he’s never worked a straight job in his life. That’s a good forty-year career of avoiding work, you know. I bet he had a full mane at the beginning of that career. Now, that chestnut hair of his is nothing more then a ring from temple to temple.
Funny how surprised he looked when I woke him up. I wish I could show him that face of his. Was it me he was surprised at though, or the dagger I had pointing at his right eye?
“Billy!” He blurted after a convulsive intake of air. It was that breath that we’ve all taken when being pulled back into harsh reality. “But you’re... You’re...” He couldn’t get past that. Maybe it was the dagger he couldn’t get past. His eyes seemed to dart back to it a lot anyway.
“Glad to hear you haven’t totally forgotten who I am yet, you fat bastard,” I put a knee on his chest and moved the gleaming blade to his throat. “Why’d you do it Fritz? Why’d you set me up!? And why shouldn’t I spill your fat guts all over this dusty floor of yours?”
“I... I... I...,” he stammered up at me. He was obviously having trouble collecting his thoughts so I decided to help him with a swift crack to the head.
“You sound like one of those damn talking birds from the south, Fritzy. Spit it out! Why would you do such a thing after all the years you’ve worked for me? Haven’t I paid you fairly for everything you’ve told me? Didn’t I help you out when you lost all that money on the fights and those thugs were going to break your legs? This really makes me mad! You know that Fritz? Do you!?”
“It wasn’t me Billy. I swear it!” He had that frantic look in his eyes that’s usually reserved for people seeing ghosts. “I would never do a thing like that to you! Come on Billy, you know me.”
“I know you alright.” I looked into those eyes of his and saw my reflection in them. He flinched as I gave him another smack to the head.
“Come on!” He started to raise a hand to his throbbing scalp but decided against it as my blade bit into the flesh of his neck. “Just get off me so we can talk. Come on.”
I stared silently at that chubby face for a good minute before making a move. I finally let up though, and took a seat across from him. He immediately wiped his face and rubbed his neck. After taking a moment for a couple breaths he turned his attention back to me. For the most part. He couldn’t hide that his eyes were darting everywhere, looking for some way to escape. He wasn’t going anywhere.
“God Billy, I thought you were dead. I felt terrible.” His tone was more conversational now. Maybe he thought he was in the clear. Maybe he was trying to convince himself of that.
“Yeah, so terrible you had to come home and take a nap. Thanks. I didn’t know we were so close. Enough of the bull, Fritz. Start talking or that right eye is coming with me.” He saw that I was serious and started getting nervous again.
“Hay, relax,” he held his hands up defensively. “I was shocked when I heard you’d been tagged by the guard. I was sure that the next time I saw you it was going to be with the ‘bird. I swear...”
“That’s just it, you fat piece of crap! I did get the Blackbird! It was a fake! You told me it was going to be the real thing...”
“I thought it was,” there was a look of exasperation on his face. “There are a lot of fakes out there, Billy. You know that.”
“Yeah,” I pointed my dagger in his direction. “But this one happened to come with a patrol waiting for me outside the house! They knew I was there...”
“I didn’t tell anyone! I swear! I had no idea that’s how it had gone down. All I heard was that you’d been caught by the guards red handed and had gone to the Field. If the guild doesn’t want to pull you down that’s none of my business. Maybe you should pay your dues on time.”
“Funny,” I thought old Fritzy was getting too comfortable so I tossed the dagger past his head. There were more where that came from. “You’re either lying to me or someone was lying to you. If the first is true, I’m going to cut out your tongue. If the second is true, I’m either going to have to find another tongue or I’m going to take yours anyway.” Another dagger appeared in my hand.
Fritz was sweating a little bit more and licking his lips. “I tell you Billy, I’m not lying. I overheard three merchants talking about bringing it here from Gaza at the Boar and Barrel. It’s like I told you before, they were all pretty wealthy so it seemed plausible. I’ve never lied to you before, why would I start now.”
“Were they from here or were they foreign?”
“Foreigners from Gaza. That’s all I know of them”
“That’s all you know, eh?” He was telling the truth. If he wasn’t, he was the best actor I’d ever seen. I’d known Fritz a long time and he was no actor. Besides, no one lying would be that close to wetting themselves.
“I swear.” He really did sound like one of those talking birds.
“So you’ve said.” I waved the knife around a little to watch his eyes follow it. “And if that’s true, someone used you to get to me so that they could cover their tracks.” I got up from my chair and walked to the backdoor. Fritz’ gaze kept with me step for step. I was really thinking out loud more than talking to him though.
I was just about to open the door and slink away into the night when I thought of something else. “Oh yeah, Fritz.” He looked at me from over the back of his pillowed chair and said nothing. “How did you know that the guild wasn’t going to get me down this time?”
Wrinkles of confusion creased his flab for a second before he spoke. “I was talking to Roc at Maggie’s. He told me about you and said that Old Nick put the word out. No one was to touch you. The whole thing stank like a set-up to him and whatever was going on, no one else was going to get tagged for association. You know, in case you were being watched.”
“Thanks Fritz,” I gave him one last thing to think about as I disappeared. “If that’s the case, I hope I lost them before I got here. Otherwise... Sleep tight Fritzy.”
Then I was gone. I didn’t look back to see if he was trying to find me in that dark alley, he wasn’t going to. I had other things to think about. Like who to see next. Do I try to find the so-called ‘merchants’ and make them tell me who they worked for, do I talk to Roc, he was a major player in the guild, or do I go straight to Old Nick with this? Whatever the answer, I decided that first things were first. I had to get home and feed my cat.
It took a little bit of time to get from Kabeloff’s to my place above the dry goods store. I was taking it slow, keeping to the shadows and back alleys. I figured I would be better off at this point with as few people knowing I was still alive as possible. I made it in one piece though, and took the rickety staircase on the outside of the building up to my unassuming door.
Out of habit I gave a listen before I made a move for my keys. Nothing, good. I fit the key in the lock and swung the door open, grabbing for the unlit candle I knew would be on the table by the door.
“Where are you, Finn?” I called into the total blackness as I closed the door and felt for the tinderbox.
He answered me with a squawk from somewhere across the room and thumped to the floor. But that couldn’t have been Finn. Not unless he had grown to about two hundred pounds and had bought himself a pair of boots. You never know...
I dropped the candle and tinderbox and dodged to the left just in time to feel the breeze of a club rushing past my head and hear the bang as it contacted the tabletop. Diving to the side, I rolled as far as I could in the confined space of the room and came up with a dagger in each hand. I couldn’t see a thing in the inky darkness and was running totally on hearing and luck. Hopefully my opponent was doing the same.
I dropped into a defensive crouch and slashed out with the knives. I caught nothing.
I heard the club fly through the air off in the dark. Finn hissed in agitation as my attacker stepped back into whatever he was sitting on.
“Thanks little buddy,” I commented as I flipped one dagger in my hand and tossed it towards the commotion. A second later the blade thumped into the far wall and a rough chuckle issued from the void.
I knew what was coming next. I hunkered down and got ready for the charge. From the laugh, whoever this was didn’t think I had another dagger. He obviously didn’t know me very well.
The heavy foot falls thundered across the room at me as I waited. At the last moment, when I could feel his breath on me, I fell to my knees and thrust my dagger up into his unsuspecting abdomen. His arms brushed the top of my head and his hands clapped in an unrequited bear hug.
As I pushed the dull, blackened metal of the blade up into yards of entrails, a river of blood ran down my arm. The warm, thick liquid drenched my clothes as it drained from my assailant, taking his life with it. In a moment of gasping and gurgling his legs wobbled and finally collapsed from under him.
I withdrew my weapon (I think it had made its way up into his lungs) and slit his throat for good measure. I had no intentions of letting this guy find some final, inner strength to drag me down with him. When that was done I fumbled over to the table by the door again and lit that candle.
Light spilled over the battlefield as that tiny flame came to life. Finn was sitting on a cabinet, cleaning himself, there was a body on the floor producing an ever-expanding pool of blood, which my good Rasierian carpet was sopping up, and someone had gotten into my bottle of whiskey. I gave that ‘someone’ a kick in his lifeless head.
I had to act quickly now or the carpet would reach its limit and the blood would find its way down to Mr. Gruffit’s store. He’d be more pissed then I was, if you can imagine that. First, I had to pull all the furniture off of the rug. I then rolled the edges up and dragged the whole thing, with the body in it, out on to the staircase. A cold north wind had picked up and bit into my ears as I stepped onto the ledge. Now that I had the thing outside, I had to figure out what I was going to do with it. Burying a body was the last thing I had wanted to do tonight. Especially one this big.
The gusting air died down as I opened the rug enough to examine my attacker. He was a large, well muscled bloke. One of those no neck types. It was obvious that he was your typical hired thug. I recognised the square jawed, fight-mangled features from around town but we had never met. Brutes like this have their place but I’m more of a finesse man. These Guys are usually too stupid to get things right anyway. Everything always ends up as a blood bath. Case in point...
After my little investigation, I left the stiff out on the deck for the time being and went back inside. I had to clean myself up and I still had to feed the cat. He was pretty mad at me being so late and followed from the door, to the cupboard, to his bowl, scolding me all the way. I hardly had a chance to cut the strip of dried meat up for him before he was pushing my hands out of the way and digging in.
“So how long was that guy sitting here waiting for me?” I gave Finn’s fluffy, black and tan coat a stroke as I asked. He didn’t answer. He was ignoring me. Nothing got between him and a meal.
Now, not only had someone set me up (or at the very least tipped the guards off about my job) and left me to die, they had checked on my corpse and sent hired muscle to finish me off. Enough kidding around here, I was going to take this up with the top man himself. I was going to go see Old Nick and, if he was involved, I’d show him his heart. Chief or not.
First things first though. There was still the matter of the rug-rolled body on my front step. I had to get rid of that lummox before I did anything else. Let me tell you, it took a good two hours to haul that stupid lump through five blocks of back alleys, down to the riverbank. Especially when I had to wait for the guard patrols to pass three times.
Once I was there though, it didn’t take long to make a quick disposal. It was just a matter of taking one of the old, rickety row-boats moored up in the mud, dumping the package in it, and emptying the rest of that bottle of whiskey on it (I had put the bottle into the bag at my side before leaving). The whole thing lit up in a flash and floated away into the cold night like a Northman’s funeral. I was pretty sure it would be spotted fairly soon but by that time any evidence against me would be long since burned.
Again, now I had to get back to business. All these distractions were starting to add up. Lucky, my end destination wasn’t too far from here. I was headed for pier seven, to a little public house called the Blind Man’s Bluff. Not to steady my nerves for the confrontation ahead though. ‘The Bluff’ happened to be the place with a certain storage room, a room with a certain plain, wooden door. That door was the start of a tunnel that led to a place beneath the city that only a select group of people knew about. The thieves guild.
At the end of the tunnel was a man that made my attacker look like a small girl. I think he was a Goon. At least in part anyway. He looked as shocked at the sight of me as I looked angry at the thought of him even thinking of making me give the sign.
“Uh, Billy. You’re alive.” Jarvis had a fine grasp of the obvious.
“Thanks big guy,” I slapped him on the shoulder and gave him an acid grin that was probably lost on him. “I was beginning to wonder.”
When I kicked open the door to the guildhall all eyes turned and silence rushed around the room like a dragon circling a helpless village. Some smiled, some stared in gapped wonder. The man I was looking for parted from the group he was talking to with genuine surprise lighting his face. It seemed genuine anyway. You never could tell with that wily coot.
“Billy Gallows! You’re alive!” Old Nick spread his arms as if inviting a hug. There was no way I was getting that close. Not yet.
“Yeah. I’ve been getting that a lot lately.”
Nick was a man in his seventies. Sixty of those years had been spent on the wrong side of the law in one form or another. He had been the chief of this guild since before I had even been born and was like an icon. A thief in Munsic couldn’t think of the guild without thinking of Old Nick.
He had once been a large man, I suspect. Well built and in top form. That muscle had long since softened and sagged. Now he was shrunken and round, with a face like a weathered saddlebag.
“Roc told us that he saw you get killed before they strung you up. I’ve seen the pigs get over excited before, it wasn’t hard to believe.” Nick lowered his arms and went to sit in his thickly padded chair by the fireplace. He looked like everyone’s grandpa.
“He must have been wrong. By the gods boy, if I had known, we would have come and got you. Not that it made a difference I see. You’ve always been a resourceful one.”
“Yeah,” I cut in. “I’m full of surprises. And I must really be impressive to everyone here,” I held my arms out to the sides and spun to take in everybody, “considering someone was sent to my place to kill me again. Or am I suspected of being undead?”
“Enough of that talk boy!” Nick never joked about the undead. And he never talked about them either. He was mad at the accusation I had never actually said and his anger brought life back into his face. “Now come here and sit down! You think I’d set you up?! Use your head Gallows! You’re one of my best producers. Do you have any idea how much money I make off of you? Hell, if you’d pay your guild fees on time once in a while you’d be perfect. Besides, if I were to put a hit out on you, you’d be dead.”
His face softened again and he leaned back into that big chair. He was old again. “Look Bill, you have a right to be mad. I can’t count how many times I’ve been double-crossed. But think. You never think unless the money’s on the line. How could you expect to walk right in here if I wanted you ‘offed? You never would have gotten a step past Sally ‘Razors’. You’re good boy, but not ‘Sally’ good.”
He was right. Of course. Sally was the best assassin in town. Hell, she was the only legitimately trained assassin in town. Others showed up from time to time but they always seemed to just... disappear. I looked over to where she was standing and she smiled coyly at me.
“Now tell me,” the big man continued. “Who is it that you’re thinking of? Besides me that is.”
“Don’t give me that crap, old man,” I was pushing my luck being so forward but it had been a rather long day. “Nothing happens in this town without you knowing about it. Are you going to give me some answers or do I have to wait for someone else to take a shot at me?”
The old man held his words for a moment and just looked at me. I didn”t know whether he was going to hit me or start laughing. Finally, a slight smile pulled at the corner of his aged mouth and he grabbed my shoulder. “You kids today need to learn a little more patience. We both know who you’re looking for, would it kill you to humour an old man and listen to his advice for a while?” He leaned back in his chair, grabbed a prod and stoked the fire before turning back to me. “Yes, I suppose it would, wouldn’t it.
“Well I’ll tell you something.” He leaned in to me so that only I could hear him speak. “You’re never going to run a guild someday if you can’t learn patience.”
Old Nick gave me a wink as he drew away again and I wondered what he was up to. Who said anything about running the guild? That sounded too much like work for me.
“I think you need to talk to Roc,” Nick continued. Damn right I did! “He’s in the cemetery waiting for you.”
“Thanks Nick, that’s all I needed to know.” I rose and spun in one fluid motion and stalked purposefully towards the door. “I’ll tell him you said hi right before I cut his throat. You just start thinking about who’s going to be your new Second.”
“Go easy on him, boy,” the chief called to my back with a chuckle. “You may like what he has to say.”
I wasn’t in the mood for forgiveness. I raised my hand in a dismissive wave and pulled the hood of my cloak over my head in preparation for the cold. No one batted an eye in the Blind Man’s Bluff as I pushed my way through the crowd and out the front door. They were all the sort that, as a rule, didn’t see anything unless it was happening to them directly.
Coming out into the icy night air again, I darted straight for the nearest alley. A quick sign to the two small-timers waiting in ambush and I was on my way. Back through the maze of shadows and dark corners I drove, cutting a way through the city to the wall nearest to my destination. I wouldn’t be taking the route I used earlier tonight, it was far faster then the way I was going but he’d be watching it. I was taking the long way. Hell, I might even make up an entirely new path, just to make sure.
Over the wall I climbed, and down to the field on the other side. The tree line of the forest glistened in the moonlight, far off on the other end of the rows of harvested corn. I ran for it, cloak flying behind me like wings, and in no time I was amongst the trees, creeping between massive trunks without a sound.
I took my time and came upon the boneyard slowly. At the edge of the woods I scanned the area and saw no one. With no idea of where Roc was going to be, it was going to be harder to sneak up on him. I had no way of figuring out my best path and could only start at one end and creep my way to the other.
So that’s what I did. Slinking along from one stone to the next, taking a good look around, and then slipping off again. I finally caught up with my prey not far from good ol’ Von Lesses. Roc Mason, Old Nick’s right hand man and the second in command of the thieves guild in Munsic. He was sitting at the feet of some stone saint, looking about as comfortable as my cat just about anywhere. He also looked like he was listening. To what I couldn’t say. Probably for me.
Roc was an excellent thief. One of the best, in fact. That’s why he was the guild’s second. I thought about this as I made sure my daggers were nice and loose in their sheaths. He really was one of the best, better then me even. It probably wouldn’t be a good idea to confront him head on. Better to plug a few blades in his back from here before going in for the kill.
I watched for the longest time as he sat motionless, waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike. When the cloud cover blinked the moon’s silent stare out and all went dark, I made my move. A dagger leapt from my hand and mutely spun towards its target. He had no clue. He wouldn’t stand a chance.
Or maybe he would. Instead of the soft thud I was expecting, the knife hit home with a silent flash of light and went careening off into the night to spark against a nameless tombstone somewhere in the distance.
“Nice shot, Gallows,” Roc stood and faced the direction of my attack. I had already moved to another location. “Magic protection. Come on out! We need to talk!”
That’s right, Mason had picked up a few tricks in his day, hadn’t he. “Start talking then,” I shouted from the darkness and immediately darted to a new hiding spot. Always keep an opponent on their toes. “I’ll keep testing that spell of yours.” I threw a dagger and continued on my way. “Let’s hope I hear something good before it wears out.”
“Quit being such an ass, Billy, and get out here!” He caught that last dagger! He actually caught it! “I’m the last person you want to kill right now. If you’d stop for a second you’d find out why.
“I really don’t know what you’re all pissed about. You’re the one who had to go after the Blackbird. You’re the one who had to be a hero. And you even blabbed to everybody that you were going to do it! You had to have expected someone to do something. You should have been prepared. At any rate you’ve got to learn to keep your mouth shout, that’s for sure.
“Now, that being said, I have to admit that, yes, I was the one who set you up.” I threw another dagger. It disappeared into the shadows. “Hay! I wasn’t trying to kill you, bastard! It was a test!”
“What?!” I was beside myself. “You brought a fake ‘bird here, tried to have me killed twice, and told everyone I was dead, for a test?! Of what?! My patience?!”
“Partly. It takes an extremely resourceful thief to be able to pull that Blackbird job the way you did, plus escape the Crow Fields, plus find your rat. I needed to know you were up to the challenge of being my Lieutenant.”
“And what makes you think I’m not going to go straight to Old Nick right now and tell him what you’re planning.” It would mean big things if I saved the Chief’s life. Something good may come of this night after all.
“Well,” Roc replied, looking right in my direction now. “For one, the old guy’s probably asleep by now. And two, he already knows. I’m not playing around with you here, Gallows, this is for real. Now get out here so we can talk like civilized men.”
“Civilized, eh?” I said as I stepped around the corner of a hulking mausoleum. “What could represent civilization more than two professional thieves?” It was a rhetorical question and Mason ignored it.
“Finally,” he spread his arms in a gesture of submission. “I’m unarmed. You can check if you want.”
“I’ll stay over here thanks. You just say your piece,”
Roc shrugged and turned to find his seat under the stone saint. “You have to have seen the Chief slowing down. He’s tired and he says he’s had enough. He’s moving to Silmaria to retire in the sun and that means that I need a second in command after I take over. That’s you.”
“So you put me through all that crap? I nearly killed Fritzy. Hell, I was prepared to kill the Chief and I did have to kill that hit man.” All he gave me was another shrug.
“Think of it this way,” Roc got up and started slowly toward me. “It really wasn’t anything you couldn’t handle, I knew that before this all started or I wouldn’t have considered you. And because of it you’re going to be making money off little punks even if you don’t pull another job again.”
That I could get in to.
Roc held out his hand and waited for me. I stood staring into his eyes for what seemed like an eternity until finally giving in and pushing my hand into his. I was still mad as hell but Old Nick was right; If there’s any time that I actually do use my brain, it’s when money’s on the line. I could tell I would be making a lot of money off of Roc Mason.
“So what’s my first duty as a guild ‘High Muckimuck’?” We both turned and started back for the city.
“Well Billy,” he said to me casually, not bothering to look back to where I was following. “First you have to put that dagger in your hand back in its sheath.” He was good, I’ll give him that. “After that, we just have to go on a little tour to meet some of the other guild heads and solidify my power over Munsic. Political blahblah, you know.”
“Alright,” I replied, pulling my cloak a bit tighter around myself. “But before we go I need to find someone to look after my cat.”