Twilight of Kerberos - [Shadowmage 01-03] - The Shadowmage Trilogy (Shadowmage; Night's Haunting; Legacy's Price) (8 page)

“Go and get Ambrose,” Treal said to Lucius. “We’ll keep watch here and make sure they don’t get far. Tell him that the Guild has moved into the markets.”

Lucius was thoroughly confused. “Guild? I thought we were the guild?”

“Not this one, we’re not. Quickly, get Ambrose,” she said, shooing him away.

No wiser, Lucius did as instructed, pushing his way through the crowds to Ring Street, which was the quickest route to the knick-knack stall by the fountain. He began to hurry, not knowing what was going on, but driven by Treal’s sense of urgency.

It was with some relief that Lucius saw Ambrose in his usual spot, talking to a young boy who he presumed was another pickpocket from a different team. Lucius paused, unsure of whether he should interrupt another team’s business, but his seniority in years got the better of him and he marched up to Ambrose.

The veteran thief looked up in surprise, a querying look on his face.

“A message from Treal,” Lucius said. “The Guild is in the markets.”

“Damn it!” Ambrose cursed, with a virulence that made Lucius wonder just how bad the situation was. Ambrose turned his attention briefly to the boy standing with them. “Move to the east, like I told you. And not a word of the Guild to anyone, understand? If I hear any rumours floating about, I’ll know where they came from.”

The boy gave a hurried nod, then fled into the market. Ambrose stood and gestured for Lucius to lead the way.

Their pace was quick, with Ambrose driving Lucius on until his legs began to ache. “I am not entirely sure what is going on,” Lucius said as they half-walked, half-trotted.

“The Guild is moving in on our territory. No damn respect, that’s their problem. Today it’s just pick-pocketing, but they’ll be watching how we react. Any weakness here and they’ll be all over our territory.”

“I thought we were the only thieves’ guild in Turnitia,” Lucius said, beginning to become a little breathless.

“Would that were so,” said Ambrose with a grim tone. “Used to be just one, before Vos descended upon us all. They smashed the old Guild, broke it up. Didn’t want any rivals in the city, you see. Took a few years for the thieves to get back together again and when they did, they could not agree on who should lead.”

“So two guilds arose?”

“That’s right. The Night Hands, under our Magnus, while Loredo started his Guild of Coin and Enterprise. Pompous man, pompous title.”

“And they’ve been fighting ever since?”

“No one’s died yet, been nothing more than a few brawls. The city got carved up into territories managed by them or us, but no one was completely happy with what they got. When we get to this Guild team, just follow my lead. Remember, they are just kids, whatever the provocation. I am not going to start a war because of pickpockets!”

They reached the northern market quickly and Markel’s nod caught Lucius’ attention from the people still milling around the stalls. They were quickly joined by Treal, who related what she had seen to Ambrose.

“Just three of them, seen no other teams. Don’t recognise them. Could be they’ve been brought up from the docks. They’re good – well practised. Definitely Guild, they’ve done this before.”

“They still working?”

“Moved to the north edge, following the crowd and keeping away from the Citadel. I’ll show you.”

They followed the twins, threading through the waning crowd. Treal and Markel then stopped and, with a nod of the latter’s head, they looked on to see the three young thieves. Lucius saw they were probably younger than his charges, lounging casually around the front of an open forge. To the casual eye they were just a group of kids lazing between chores, but Lucius saw the flickering glances, quiet muttering and sly movements that told him they were carefully combing passers-by, searching for another easy and rich mark.

Without breaking a step, Ambrose took the lead and marched straight up to them, Lucius in his wake and the twins trailing. At sight of the approaching man, the boys looked as if they were about to run but seeing nowhere to flee, one obviously decided to brazen it out, and his friends took his lead.

“Bugger off, the lot of you!” Ambrose’s first words were not subtle in the least.

“Says who, old man?” said one of the boys, taking a step forward to meet the challenge. “We got as much right to be here as you.”

“You know damn well this ain’t your place. Now, clear off, or you’ll be in for a beating.”

One of the other boys threw a purse at Ambrose. It was empty, having been looted by them earlier, but the sign of defiance made Markel start, and he stepped past Lucius, fists raised. Lucius laid a hand on the back of Markel’s neck, and then held it firm when he tried to struggle free.

“Not here,” Lucius whispered. “Ambrose’s orders.”

That was sufficient to restrain Markel, but Lucius could feel his anger.

The lead boy took another step up to Ambrose and, completely unafraid, spat at his feet. “Your time’s over, old man. The markets belong to us now.”

“Oh, is that so?” said Ambrose and, like a snake, his arm shot forward to grab the boy. The boy struggled until Ambrose cuffed him round the back of the head, and he was not gentle about it. The blow stunned the boy briefly, and he fell to the ground on his backside. When he heard Treal giggling at his misfortune, his eyes blazed with a fury that Lucius had thought only possible in frenzied warriors.

“You’ll regret that, old man,” he said, as he picked himself up. Despite his conviction, he started to back away, his friends following him. “Loredo will hear of this.”

“I’m sure,” Ambrose said. “He must take a personal interest in all the kids working for him. Well, you just tell him that the markets are our ground, and we won’t stand for any pushing from him. Won’t stand for it, you hear?”

The boys left, the last throwing an obscene gesture at the four of them before turning to follow his friends. Markel was still angry, while Treal jabbed Lucius in the ribs, laughing at the memory of the boy being knocked to the floor.

Sighing, Ambrose turned to Lucius.

“There’ll be trouble there, mark my words. The Guild has been getting more aggressive over the past few months. Looks like we’ll have plenty of work for you yet, and it won’t be picking pockets.”

Lucius stared past him, watching the boys disappear into a side street leading away from the market, wondering why every time he found an easy living, something always contrived to take it away from him.

CHAPTER FOUR

M
ARKEL HAD BEEN
right, as it turned out. Lucius had not been kept on the team for long. A week later, Ambrose announced he was to be taken to the guildhouse of the Night Hands. Thus would start his true induction into the organisation.

He had not been sure quite what to expect of a thieves’ headquarters. Something in the sewers, perhaps, accessible only by secret passageways and coded knocks, backed up by the password of the day. Maybe a rundown and dilapidated structure in the poorest quarter of the city, dismissed by passing guard patrols, and yet readily turned into a defensible fort when assaulted, with assassins and marksmen sniping from windows. Or it could be palatial, hiding behind the guise of some noble’s holdings and filled with the proceeds of years of thieving, decked in gold and silver, with rare objects d’art scattered in every room in the most vulgar fashion.

It was none of those things. From the outside, the townhouse looked like every other in the aptly named Rogue’s Way. The street had earned its title decades ago from a scandalous merchant who managed to rob several nobles blind before he was discovered and deported back to Pontaine. The house itself was a three storey structure with large bay windows protected from prying eyes by thick curtains and thicker shutters.

The front door appeared solid enough, but it was not until Lucius was permitted entry that he realised its heavy oak exterior was supported inside by metal bands and finely-crafted locks, and he guessed it would take at least a squad of guardsmen armed with a battering ram to break it down.

A short hallway led into a common room, which looked for all the world like that of a tavern. A bar was situated on the far side of the room, while tables were scattered about randomly, their occupants engaged in games of dice and cards, drinking or huddled together while whispering in conspiratorial tones. The furniture had certainly seen better days than that usually found in taverns, as it seemed thieves had better respect for their surroundings, but it was not of unusually high quality. No rare paintings adorned the wall, no golden sculptures graced the bar.

The rest of the ground floor was taken up by the kitchens, a couple of small store rooms (which held essential supplies, and were never used for hiding stolen goods), and several sleeping areas which were shared by guild members. Ambrose informed him that he was free to make use of them, and Lucius accepted, glad to be free of the financial burden his continued stay at an inn in the merchant quarter had imposed. Not that he could not afford it now, but why waste good coin when a perfectly good bed was available here? Rooms were not granted to individuals but instead shared by whoever was in the guildhouse at the time. There was little fear of having one’s personal items go missing here, Ambrose informed him, as thieving from another member of the guild was grounds for immediate expulsion. As Lucius would find out, once granted membership, very few chose to voluntarily leave, as the perks were just too good. Access to the guildhouse, which was regarded as a safe bolt-hole for those running from the guard or an angry merchant, was really the least of these. Now he had been granted full membership, Lucius was considered to be on the payroll.

Money was still earned on a commission basis, based upon the success of individual operations, but there was plenty of work to be had in a city the size of Turnitia. Over the course of the next few days, Ambrose introduced Lucius to several thieves, most of whom agreed to take him on their next few missions.

The work was varied and Lucius was surprised to learn that the Night Hands were frighteningly well organised, operating with a professionalism he would not have believed possible among thieves. Though many of the more successful thieves planned their own operations, staking out likely targets, then gathering fellow members to make a hit on a warehouse or rich noble’s townhouse, there was also a great deal of regular day-to-day work the guild needed completed in order to run efficiently. The pickpocket teams in the Five Markets were just the tip of this. There were confidence scams down on the docks, protection rackets run on shop owners and innkeepers, a growing prostitution ring that was quickly adapting to serve all tastes while keeping the women (and a not a few men) safe from both their clients and the occasional invasion by the Guild of Coin and Enterprise.

Ambrose arranged for Lucius to attend one of the weekly collections along the Street of Dogs, which was regarded by the thieves he spoke to as a lucrative business. Once you had the muscle, he discovered, protection rackets were among the simplest and yet most profitable ventures the guild invested its time in. It really just boiled down to standing behind the man collecting the money, looking menacing. None of the traders in the Street of Dogs put up any resistance, while some seemed almost grateful. After all, the racket worked both ways; if they experienced any trouble that could not be resolved with the intervention of the guard, they always had the Night Hands to call upon. This could range from tracking down vandals hired by a rival, to ‘persuading’ a money lender that his rates were too high.

However, Lucius earned less from his time on protection than he did from pick-pocketing and when he raised this with Ambrose, he was told the work was simply a way of him gaining experience in what the guild did each day, and his place had been obtained as a personal favour to Ambrose himself. Such operations, he learned, were treated as a franchise. One thief, a few years ago, had gathered a group of friends together and started the racket. The Night Hands took their usual percentage, and the rest was split between the thieves doing the work. When the first thief died or otherwise left the guild, control of the racket was passed on to one of his colleagues, who then would decide whether to bring more thieves into the enterprise and expand, or simply keep the current profits rolling in. It was very clear that such operations were run only by the most senior thieves, as they were also the most lucrative; the hard work in setting up the operation had already been done and, bar the occasional upset and non-paying shop owner, the money rolled in continually, week after week. Positions in such rackets were therefore highly prized, and to gain entry you either had to buy your way in, or be extremely good friends with a current franchise holder.

This system ran throughout the Night Hands, and Lucius began to realise that Ambrose was one such senior thief, with his franchise being the teams working the Five Markets. He could not help but smile to himself when he realised that despite all the money he had earned during his time there, he had likely been earning Ambrose a good deal more.