126466.fb2 Shadowmage - читать онлайн бесплатно полную версию книги . Страница 9

Shadowmage - читать онлайн бесплатно полную версию книги . Страница 9

CHAPTER 9

The guildhouse was alive with activity, rumour and gossip. From the first light of day, thieves had been gathered in small groups, and conversation had stealthily made its way through the common room, armoury, kitchens and corridors; the Guild of Coin and Enterprise were coming.

It had been later in the afternoon when Lucius had been summoned to the council chamber, its polished wooden walls seeming to reflect the mixed emotions of excitement and dread that had permeated the entire guildhouse by now. He had already that heard there had been a noisy dispute among the Council — particularly between Magnus and Caradoc — but the guildmaster had made his wishes clear, vetoing all other proposals. Seeing where violence between the two guilds would inevitably lead, Magnus had called for a summit between them, inviting the leadership of the Guild into his most secret lair as a sign of trust and concession.

That had been the rumour, but as Lucius passed Caradoc in the hall and saw his haunted expression, he came to believe all he had heard. They were waiting for him in the council chamber, the table turned so it stood at right angles to its normal facing, with the most senior thieves hunched together on the far side facing a row of empty seats across an assembly of wine urns and cups. Magnus sat in the centre with Caradoc's empty place to his left, while behind him stood his two bodyguards; Lucius had learned they were brothers, Taene and Narsell, and they had terrible reputations for cruel brutality, but served the guildmaster with complete fidelity.

A smattering of other high-ranking thieves stood against the wall behind the assembled Council, and Lucius was directed to join them. He had no idea why he had been summoned to this meeting, other than it had been at Magnus' direct request, as he knew the others would be present to act not only as witnesses, but also as advisors and counsellors, should information be needed during the discussions. What he had to offer, Lucius could not say, but he was grateful indeed that he would see what happened here first hand, and not have to rely on the guildhouse's own, not always accurate, grapevine.

"Are we certain they will show?" one of the Council members asked, a young man whom Lucius recalled was called Nate.

"The offer caused quite a stir within the Guild," another man answered, "or so our spies have told me. I wouldn't be surprised if they were still arguing about what to do."

"They will show," Magnus said confidently. He noticed a few doubtful looks about the table and continued. "The Guild has as much to gain and lose as we do. Though we have very different ideas about how to run this city, Loredo is not a stupid man."

"He also risks a great deal by coming here, to our home ground," Nate said. "If the situation was reversed, I would be worried about an ambush."

"True," Magnus agreed. "But we risk a similar amount by inviting him here. Look at it this way. If the situation were indeed reversed, would you not be swayed by the chance to see your enemy's stronghold?"

The Council considered that, and Lucius saw a few heads nodding round the table as Magnus' reasoning became apparent.

"More important is what happens after the initial greetings," he said. "I confess, I am not entirely sure what the Guild will be after, nor how aggressively they will negotiate. They must be willing to consider compromises, or we would not have been able to arrange this meeting. However, we must be ready to cede ground if it first gains us territory elsewhere and, second, ensures peace between us. I will not have war among thieves, not while I am guildmaster."

Conversation then turned to the operations and territories the Council wanted to keep and which they might consider for trade. As they spoke, Lucius' head began to swim with information; he had no idea of the complexity or number of the operations the Hands had an interest in. There was far more than just theft at stake.

The growing prostitute rings were clearly an important element for some of the Council, for while new to the Hands and still small, it showed much promise. They fought against the advocates of smugglers and blackmailers. Lucius learned of a city-wide counterfeit ring that traded in false documents, coin and art. It was confirmed that the Hands did indeed have a burgeoning trade in assassinations, whose franchise owners were considered among the most skilled in all the guild. As well as the pickpockets, protection rackets and general burglaries, the Council spoke of narcotics from the Sarcre Islands, trade of arcane artefacts from ruins in the darkest parts of the Sardenne, and an underground network that could spirit Pontaine agents too and from Turnitia throughout the year.

Lucius began to wonder just how wealthy the Night Hands were, when all their operations were stacked up and accounted for. He thought of the vaults built into the foundations of the guildhouse, and thought of how they must be nearly overflowing with coin and valuables. Not for the first time, he could see the organisation he had chosen to join as a whole, that it was not simply a gathering of those who worked outside the law, but a business, run as tightly and efficiently as that of the richest merchants. Fundamentally, it was all about the money.

A short thief poked his head round the open door of the meeting room. "They're here," he said, before ducking back out of sight.

The mood in the room changed immediately. Council members sat straighter in their seats, while Magnus' bodyguards, Taene and Narsell, shifted their weight ever so slightly, moving their hands a fraction of an inch along their belts to where their blades lay. For his part, Lucius folded his arms and squared his shoulders as he waited for the Guild's delegation to arrive.

They heard quiet voices talking amiably from down the hall, accompanied by footsteps. Everyone in the meeting room seemed to draw in breath at the same time as Caradoc appeared at the door, standing to one side as he politely waved his guests through.

Though Lucius had never seen the leader of the Guild of Coin and Enterprise before, he recognised the man immediately by his bearing and demeanour. He looked exactly like a guildmaster should.

So did Magnus, of course, but Lucius had always seen him as a natural guildmaster because of his authority, leadership and wisdom, all of which became apparent after talking to him for just a few minutes. Loredo Foss was different in just about every way. Lithe and graceful, he was dressed in a black leather jerkin lined with dark red thread. His hair was black and slicked back, while his beard was small and pointed, barely covering his chin. This man was a natural guildmaster, Lucius thought, because he was a master thief, among the very best in his game. That would make him a very dangerous enemy, and Lucius began to appreciate some of the risks Magnus had accepted in opposing himself to the Guild.

Loredo was followed only by one other, which was a statement in itself, considering they had entered the lair of their enemy. It was Caradoc's counterpart, Loredo's own lieutenant and trusted confidante, a woman Lucius had heard of but had never seen.

She stalked into the meeting room behind her guildmaster as if she were the leader of all thieves, not he. Her boots, whose hard leather clattered on the floor of the meeting room, ran past her knees, and Lucius could not help but think of all the weapons that might be hidden within them, even though they had been told to divest themselves of any offensive items before entering the guildhouse.

Named Jewel, she had a reputation among the Hands for being utterly lethal, for it was rumoured she was more assassin than thief. Her narrow eyes regarded everyone suspiciously and though she was not at all unattractive, the hardness of her features, which promised quick and silent retribution to anyone who would cross her, seemed to sap any desire.

It was a brave move bringing only one bodyguard to a meeting between thieves of this level, but Lucius thought that, between them, Loredo and Jewel might account for many Hands before they were slain, should the summit take an ill turn.

Magnus stood up to greet his guests, and the action was quickly copied among the rest of the seated Council.

"Loredo, Miss Jewel," he acknowledged as he extended a hand across the table. "I bid you a warm welcome to our humble home, and hope your journey here will prove a fruitful one."

Accepting Magnus' hand with a firm shake and brief nod, Loredo replied. "You show great wisdom in calling this meeting, Magnus. I, too, hope for an outcome beneficial to the both of us."

The Council returned to their seats as Loredo sat down, followed by Jewel. The woman said nothing but eyed each of the Hands methodically, as if judging the threat they might pose to her master. As her eyes swept over Lucius, he drew an involuntary breath, and fought to keep his own gaze even. He had the unlikely notion that Jewel had just given him a number that placed him in the order of people in the room she would like to kill.

As Caradoc joined Magnus' side, the guildmaster remained standing as he took a wine urn and poured four cups. He placed the cups in a row and looked across at Loredo, who smiled. He selected two and passed one to Jewel. Magnus scooped up one of the cups that had been left and drained it, before setting it back on the table with a loud clack. Caradoc followed suit, before reaching for the urn once more and refilling Magnus' cup, then his own.

"I thank you for that show of honesty, Magnus," Loredo said. "But I would think that if you wanted me dead, you would not stoop to poison, nor would you go to the trouble of arranging this meeting."

"Merely demonstrating my willingness to be open here," Magnus said, as he watched Loredo take a sip from his cup. Jewel's cup remained untouched on the table before her.

The two guildmasters regarded one another briefly before Magnus spoke again. "Loredo, you and I have a problem. I run a guild of thieves, and have an interest in making money. You run a guild of thieves and have an interest in making money. Of late, these interests have clashed too many times. If we allow this to escalate, we risk a war that could destroy both of us."

"I have no interest in a thieves war," Loredo said. "It would prove messy and bring the Vos guard crashing down on us. If you have an easy solution, I would gladly hear it."

"We could perhaps divide the city in two," Magnus said, a hint of sarcasm in his voice. "We could take the west while you have the east, or perhaps we control the north while you take the south."

"Giving you, in the first instance, the docks, and in the second, the Five Markets," Loredo said.

"As we can all see, there is no easy solution," Magnus concluded, and Loredo nodded once in agreement.

"I suggest we make the division based on territory and trade," Magnus said. "If we give something up, you make a concession in return. We will ensure there is parity between us, and that every one of our members understands there are some areas they simply do not work in."

"That, I feel, would be the most equitable solution," Loredo said. "So, where would you begin?"

"Let us start with the disputed territories that have led us here. The Street of Dogs and the Five Markets."

For the first hour, Lucius listened with rapt attention as the two guildmasters spoke, proposing and counter-proposing over and again, as they vied for each advantage. Never once was a voice raised in anger, but each retained a hard edge that served to reign the other in when a demand grew too insistent. After the second and third hours, Lucius' legs began to grow numb, and he noticed others shifting their weight or fidgeting.

Magnus made a point in asking various members of his Council or one of the senior thieves to clarify a point, to list earnings over a given period, or give a rundown on recent activities. By contrast, Loredo never asked Jewel for anything, and he seemed to have the uncanny knack for knowing exactly what Magnus was talking about, citing figures and statistics without fail.

Lucius was startled when Magnus asked him a question, briefly wanting to know the average takings for the pickpocket team that had been slain by the Guild. Lucius answered automatically, but he found his mind drifting back to the brother and sister team he had known, Markel and Treal, and the brutal way in which they had died. It was so very hard not to regard the two thieves on either side of the table as mortal enemies, and yet the meeting was being conducted with both respect and courtesy. He began to wonder if it had been Jewel who had sanctioned the murders, or even had performed the act herself; she seemed just the sort of woman who could cold-bloodily kill a child.

Throughout the meeting, Jewel only spoke once, while Magnus had been proposing an exchange of trades. The pickpockets in the Five Markets had been placed on the table, and they were considered a valuable operation; while they generated comparatively little money, whoever held the children of the pick-pocketing teams would have a ready source of new blood for recruitment as thieves proper. Loredo was proving intractable over the Hands control over the Five Markets, and so Magnus raised the possibility of allowing the Guild to take the pickpockets, if in return the Hands could claim complete dominance over all assassinations in the city.

"No." Jewel only said the one word, and when she spoke it was as if ice had been dashed in the faces of the Council. Loredo, ignoring the effects of her input, went on to say that assassinations were a specialised field that had highly specialised agents. The idea of one guild holding them all was simply not feasible.

As hours four and five went by, it seemed as though a little progress was being made, but the guildmasters still proved relentless, neither wishing to show weakness by calling for a break in the meeting first.

Assassinations, it was decided, would be regarded as being outside of the discussion, with a view to perhaps creating a separate assassins' guild in the future. Magnus was able to retain control of the Five Markets, in part because he allowed the Guild free use of his smuggling routes.

An argument brewed between Caradoc and Loredo as the matter of compensation for the deaths of those who had been involved in the earlier 'skirmishes,' as they were euphemistically called, between the guilds. Loredo had demanded the princely sum of a thousand gold coin for the death of his Street of Dogs man, which would be an extortionate amount for a rich merchant's ransom. When the subject of the murdered children was raised by Caradoc, Loredo flatly denied any compensation, reminding him that the earning potential of one so young was negligible. Seeing his lieutenant clearly struggling with his temper, Magnus stepped in before voices were raised, announcing that he would not only relinquish any interest in compensation for pickpockets, but that he would agree to the thousand gold blood price for Loredo's man — but he also made sure the Street of Dogs came down firmly in the Hands' territory because of this.

Scams in the merchant quarter went to the Guild, while the Hands retained the docks. This was an arrangement that suited neither guildmaster well, but both realised something valuable would have to be sacrificed in the meeting. Lucius, for his part, was happy at this decision, for he had been planning his own operation in the docks, and was now favouring it over his plans for the raid on the church of the Final Faith; bothering religious fanatics could prove distinctly unhealthy, he had eventually decided, and he doubted the priests would go anywhere soon, whereas the ship he had been watching was scheduled to depart later in the week.

After seven hours, a weary Council stood as the guildmasters shook hands and toasted one another's success. An accord had been reached. There would be no war among the thieves.

The following days seemed almost like an anti-climax to Lucius, and he formed the impression that many others among the Hands felt the same. The common room was filled with complaints from those who'd had their franchises pulled, the operations now passing to the Guild of Coin and Enterprise, but there was an equal amount of relief, felt in the quiet conversations of others. Everyone had been expecting the worst, with strangled or stabbed bodies strewn throughout the alleyways of Turnitia. Instead, there had been nothing. If anything, business was picking up.

Those who had been present at the meeting between guildmasters had been forbidden to speak of what they had seen and heard, for Magnus wanted the changes to the Hand's operations to come from him alone, speaking to each franchise holder in turn and informing them of whether they still had a regular source of income or not. It was not until two days later that Lucius had the chance to discuss the meeting, and that was with Magnus himself.

He had literally run into the guildmaster as he was leaving the training chamber, wiping the sweat from his face with a ragged cloth.

"Ah, Lucius, my boy," Magnus greeted him. Once he realised who was talking to him, Lucius threw the cloth back into the chamber and smiled hesitantly.

"Magnus," he acknowledged with a nod.

"Preparing for your first operation? You are going into action this week, are you not?"

"Tomorrow, all going well," Lucius said. "Still need to find a few more volunteers though."

"You'll get them. Many may not sign on until the last minute, but I think enough trust you now." He gestured up the corridor. "Come, walk with me for a moment."

The request caught Lucius off guard, and he had to stride quickly to catch up with Magnus.

"You opted for the docks in the end, then?" Magnus asked.

"Yes. I had a plan for the church of the Faith, but there were a few impracticalities."

"Indeed. The priesthood would have been straight on to the Vos guard, demanding the entire city be closed down and every thief hung from the cliffs. If you had not scrapped the mission yourself, the Council might have been forced to step in. You demonstrate both ambition and good judgement, two qualities that do not always go hand-in-hand among thieves."

Not knowing quite what to say, Lucius just nodded. He had walked with Magnus past the meeting room, and he glanced into the open door to see if any of the Council were present, but it was empty. Magnus began asking about his training, and Lucius did not realise where they were headed until the guildmaster halted outside a plain wooden door and produced a key. Behind the door was a small flight of stairs, spiralling upwards. With a wave of the hand, Lucius was ushered up, but he hesitated.

Though he had not been in this part of the guildhouse before, it was fairly common knowledge that Magnus kept his own set of chambers on the highest floor. Few were invited into his personal living space, and Lucius wondered why he was being accorded the honour.

"Come along, boy," Magnus prompted. "I have much to do — a guild does not just run itself!"

With Magnus close behind, Lucius ascended the stairs as they rose in a tight spiral.

They emerged into a small study, spartan in appearance with few nods to luxury. A desk lay below a single skylight, strewn with papers, maps and a single oil lantern. A leather bound chair sat behind it, while in front, three austere wooden seats, of the sort that might be expected in a commoner's kitchen. These were the only items of furniture in the study, and all rested on a tired-looking threadbare rug. Two doors faced one another to Lucius' left and right, and a quick glance told him they were both very thick, with intricate locks holding them fast.

Magnus manoeuvred himself behind the desk and nodded to Lucius to take a chair while he sat. Leaning back casually, Magnus released a sigh, as if happy to have come to the study, and he leaned back in his chair, legs straight out, hands steepled across his stomach.

"As you can see," Magnus said, indicating the piled papers on his desk with a wave, "the business of the Hands is never ending. There is always something!"

Not knowing why he was here or what he was expected to say, Lucius just smiled as if he understood just how much work Magnus was required to handle. In truth, he had little idea.

"It is the Allantian Voyager that you are planning to strike, isn't it?"

"Yes," Lucius said. "One of the dockmasters told Elaine that it was taking on silk from Pontaine. When she heard I was scouting out the docks, she suggested I run the operation."

"And her take?"

"Twenty per cent of the gross."

Magnus pursed his lips. "That could be a lot, considering she is taking none of the risks."

"It is my first job, so I thought it fair," Lucius shrugged. "And if I do well on this haul, she will be all the more ready to let me know when the next valuable cargo comes in. I have to pay my dues first, after all."

"You do," Magnus said, smiling. "You seem to be learning the franchise system well, though I would be concerned that there may not be much left for yourself, after you have shared out the profits among everyone you gather to help you — those silks will need a lot of manpower, and any fence is likely to charge a large commission on such a sizeable haul."

"I thought about that. If I am generous on the first job, recruitment for my second will not be so hard."

"But your next volunteers may become greedy."

"I'll always be up front about payment. Everyone will know where they stand."

"That is well. I think you are beginning to understand, Lucius, that when working alongside those who thieve and swindle for a living, the only guarantee one has is mutual self-interest."

Lucius became aware that Magnus was eyeing him closely, and he shifted under this gaze uncomfortably, becoming acutely aware that the hard wooden chair he had taken was beginning to numb his backside.

"I like you," Magnus said at last. "I have been taken in by nobles who promise the earth in the past, and the less said about my romantic attachments to women, the better. But I know thieves, Lucius. I have grown able to spot, very quickly, those who were born to the life, and those who merely pretend. And I see in you the makings of a great thief."

The praise was completely unexpected. "Well… thank you."

"No need for thanks, Lucius, you got here on your own strengths. All learned from your time in the Anclas Territories, were they?"

"Mostly," Lucius said, evasively, but Magnus seemed to either not notice or not care.

"Caradoc recognises your talent too, though he finds it shameful to admit you saved his life."

"Any one of us would have done the same."

"Maybe. You must remember that, despite us all belonging to the Night Hands, some here really are rogues of the highest order. But you will learn that truth soon enough," Magnus said, then suddenly changed the subject. "What did you make of Loredo and his woman during our summit?"

Lucius paused, marshalling his thoughts. "Very capable and very deadly. That woman, Jewel, in particular gave me the shivers."

"A natural killer. Of all the assassins in Turnitia, she probably commands the highest fees. She is very good at what she does."

"But I don't think they can be trusted."

Magnus raised an eyebrow. "You think, perhaps, I was wrong to call the summit and make the deal?"

"Hardly matters what I think, guildmaster," Lucius said, hoping his use of Magnus' title was respectful enough.

"Of course what you think matters. You are one of the Hands, you have a stake in what we do here, that decision affected you directly," Magnus said, then he gave Lucius a sly look. "Of course, your opinion may not always count for much, but I would still hear it."

"The summit was important, as it forced both sides to put their cards on the table. And, if nothing else, it has created at least a couple of days of peace."

"True," Magnus nodded. "Anything else?"

When Lucius frowned in thought, Magnus prompted him.

"Why, for example, would I risk inviting them here, into our own guildhouse?"

"A show of trust, as you said," Lucius began, then a flash of inspiration took him. "And to get both Loredo and his woman close — you wanted to watch them, see how they would take the proposals."

"Very good, Lucius," Magnus said. "Loredo I knew before, but the years can change a man. Jewel, I know only by reputation, and most of the tales told of her are likely exaggerated. Or maybe not. I like to know who I am dealing with. And you are right — they cannot be trusted."

"So, what have we gained?"

"Well, time, as you said. Even a moment of peace is infinitely preferable to the immediate onset of war. There are those, of course, who think a good, bloody war would straighten the city out and set things right, but we cannot guarantee we would be on the winning side, can we? At least, not yet."

Thinking Magnus' words over, Lucius looked up at the guildmaster.

"While I appreciate the trust, why are you telling me this?" he asked.

Magnus sat up straight, abandoning his leisurely posture to clasp his hands together as he leaned over the desk.

"Several reasons," he began. "I meant what I said about liking you. It's an instinct. You are going to do well for us here, Lucius, if you work hard and do not cheat us."

"I wouldn't — " Lucius began, but Magnus waved his objection away.

"It occurs to every thief at some time. A few coins here, a few valuables there, before anything reaches our fences. Just… just be warned that we have our own methods for discovering and tracking down those who embezzle from us. However, the one point of real contention between the Hands and the Guild are the docks and outlying merchant quarter. The Five Markets are what attract citizen and visitor both, but the money all flows from the ships and wagons of the merchants. Not having both the docks and the merchant quarter in the possession of either guild makes lasting peace between us impossible."

"You think they will try moving against us so soon," Lucius asked, thinking of his own operation about to go into action.

"Probably not," Magnus said. "It is probably just me worrying too much about every little thing the Hands get up to. But promise me this, Lucius. If you get the merest hint that the Guild are getting ready to hit us, the slightest suspicion that everything is not quite right when you make your raid, pull out. Don't risk the lives of the men who volunteer to go with you. They may escape only with their skins that evening rather than the goods they hoped for, but that is good enough if danger threatens. Do you understand?"

"Of course."

"I'm serious, Lucius. Whether it is this week, next month or next year, the Guild will be coming for us. I don't want any of us caught in the firing line when they do."

CHAPTER 10

Lucius cast a wry glance up at Kerberos as the blue-grey giant leered down upon the docks. He had heard the sphere called Thief's Friend, on account of the twilight it cast during the late hours, creating shadows throughout the city in which a rogue could readily hide. Only rarely did it dip completely below the horizon and so shroud the world in the pitch black of night. He ruefully thought he might have liked such a night, with darkness completely clothing both himself and his allies as they surrounded their target.

The Allantian Voyager was berthed just a few dozen yards ahead of him, its three masts rising into the faintly star-speckled sky. With its hull heavily reinforced to withstand the battering it would face on its travels across the churning sea, it was a squat and unlovely vessel, but one eminently suited to the journeys it would face. Typical of Allantian designs, the Voyager was the largest ship in the harbour, with others from Vosburg and the Sarcre Islands much smaller by comparison, designed to ride the huge waves they would face rather than plough a course through the maelstrom. Such ships would inevitably be smashed to splinters within a year or two, having encountered one natural disaster too many. It was said the best Allantian ships could last for more than a century of continuous travel.

A small flash of light made Lucius look upwards to the cliffs rising behind him. He nodded to himself, knowing the wagon party was now ready. Having commandeered a massive crane, they now awaited the haul of silk to be loaded onto its platform, which they would then raise and transfer onto the wagon they had acquired. From there, the silk would be taken to one of the Hands' affiliated fences to be sold; job done.

The light flashed again as one of the thieves high above lifted his cloak slightly to reveal the hooded lantern he held close to his body, then dropped it, his signal complete. The first part of their task was done. Now they had to wait for the other thieves to board the Voyager and make off with its goods before their turn in the heavy lifting began.

In all, Lucius had managed to raise a score of thieves to join him in his expedition, most signing on at the last minute. Quickly briefing them on the plan, and noticing some of the older thieves suppressing smiles as they watched him draw out positions on the many different maps he had prepared, Lucius had led them to the docks and delegated positions. He was, at least, gratified to see Ambrose with them, a familiar face on his first planned mission.

A few members of the party were simply serving as lookouts, though no serious trouble from the Vos guard was expected. The few men of the wagon party were now ready, but the bulk of his strength was in the harbour itself, stalking the Voyager, watching for overly curious crew, and getting ready to engage in the toil of heaving bundles of silk from ship to crane.

Crouched behind a large coil of rope, Lucius raised his hand, the signal that started the next part of the process; the approach to the Voyager itself.

As the sign was passed from thief to thief, each within eyesight of another in the gloom, Lucius saw dark shapes detach themselves from the shadows, keeping low and taking advantage of any available cover. A single sentry on the deck of the Voyager had already been sighted, and the role of silencing him passed to a veteran of such missions.

Lucius broke cover too, a slight manipulation of arcane energies allowing him to bring some of the darkness of his hiding place with him; just enough to give him a little extra protection from prying eyes, and not too much that would alert his fellow thieves to anything unusual.

The ship grew closer and, as he approached, Lucius only just began to realise just how large it really was. There were entire warehouses in Turnitia that were not as long or broad, and he wondered whether they would easily find the silk they were seeking to rob from its hold.

He saw some thieves gaining access to the ship's deck by the ropes that moored it tightly to the dock, clambering hand-over-hand as they swarmed up. Though they had plenty of skill in the use of ropes, he could see even the best of them were having some trouble, as the ship constantly lurched up and down, the ropes binding it creaking with the strain of holding it in place against the constant, surging waves that flooded past the barriers and into the harbour.

Joining a small group of thieves near the bottom of a ramp that led straight up onto the Voyager's deck, he crouched and waited with them, ready to charge forwards at the call of the next signal. He did not have to wait long as a low thump and groan issued from the deck, quickly followed by a quiet whistle; the ship's sentry had been dealt with.

Leading the rush, Lucius sprinted up the ramp, still keeping his body low as the thieves behind him followed suit. His first time on the deck of a ship, Lucius quickly looked around to get his bearings. Seeing the wheelhouse, three masts and prow allowed him to picture the deck plans of the ship in his mind, but the reality was entirely more confusing. It seemed as if nowhere was free of stores, debris and rope; lots and lots of rope. Only having the vaguest idea of why a ship needed so much rigging, or why it so often needed replacing, he trotted over to the space between the centre mast and the one ahead of it, knowing the hatch to the forward hold must lie there.

Several thieves, including Ambrose, were quicker and got there ahead of him, already lifting the massive double hatch to reveal a black maw that descended into the bowels of the ship.

"This is it," one whispered. "I'm going down, there'll be a second hatch down there. Someone look about, there'll be a winch round here somewhere."

Another thief was already rigging a winch and pulley to a metal pole jutting from the main mast, lashing it to a square platform, not unlike those used by the cranes on the cliff. Lucius could see each thief attending to his assigned role, and was pleased with how quickly and efficiently they worked together. He was less happy with the noise being generated, and though they had been near silent as they boarded the Voyager, the harder work of preparing to lift bales of silk out of the hold inevitably stole their stealth. Casting an anxious eye around the quieter areas of the deck towards the stern, Lucius could not help but think they were being watched.

Clapping Ambrose on the shoulder to let him know he should continue as planned, Lucius padded softly away as the other thieves started descending into the darkness below the deck. Drawing his sword from his back, he kept his body low and stayed to the shadows as he crept away.

Passing the thick masts, Lucius picked his way stealthily along the deck, nodding briefly to another thief who was coming from the opposite direction.

"All clear," the thief whispered, and Lucius gestured for him to proceed helping with the unloading of silk. With the haul the dockmaster had promised lay on board, they would need all the hands they could muster to make their theft before any of the remaining crew on board were wise to their presence. However, Lucius could not shake the ominous feeling he had and, cursing Magnus for putting doubts into his head in the first place, he approached the poop deck.

Raised above the level of the deck, the poop was accessible by two ladders, one on either side of the ship, and flanking a simple wooden door that Lucius knew gave access to the lower decks and the captain's own quarters. Mounting the first two rungs of a ladder, he poked his head over the lip of the poop, and scanned the area.

The wheel lay before him, lashed tightly as part of the precautions to keep the Voyager steady while berthed in the dangerous harbour. Two large siege crossbows were mounted to either side behind large purpose-built shields, perhaps intended to keep the ship safe from the pirates and corsairs Lucius had heard roamed the straits between the peninsula and the Sarcre Islands. He could also just make out a slumped form behind one of the crossbows, the bound and gagged sentry, now oblivious to the presence of the intruders.

Seeing nothing out of the ordinary, Lucius hopped back down to the main deck and crept to the door. He had not wanted to risk exploring the rest of the ship but, while his men were busy with their haul, he reasoned that it was better to be safe than very, very sorry. He tried the handle, resolving himself to simply blocking the exit with a barrel or something similar if it were locked, in order to stop any attempt by the crew to storm the main deck, and was faintly surprised to find the door swung easily open. The interior was pitch black and he cast a quick look over his shoulder, suddenly apprehensive. He could see the shadowy shapes of thieves at work at the far end of the ship in the half-light of Kerberos and, seeing nothing more amiss, steeled himself to take a look inside.

Stretching a hand outwards, Lucius summoned a small flame, its purple light flickering crazily. Inside, a small corridor extended ahead. At its end was a stout door lined with metal bands — leading to the captain's quarters, Lucius presumed. To his left was another closed door and to his right, a small set of stairs descended into darkness.

Creeping forward as quietly as he could, Lucius ducked his head down the stairs briefly. He had no desire to pace his way through sleeping crew. Just wanting to ensure no one was awake, he peered into the gloom and was greeted with a rank smell that made him retch until he buried his face into his cloak. He had never smelled anything like it; the stench of a body left in the sun too long, mixed with the pungent aroma of salt and dead fish. It was not pleasant like the scent of a fresh catch being unloaded dockside from a fisherman's boat, but something altogether more sickening. Shaking his head at the hygiene of Allantian sailors, Lucius turned away to approach the door to the captain's quarters.

There was no sound of movement behind the door and for that, he was grateful. Not quite knowing what to do, Lucius eventually settled on snuffing out his flame to call upon a reflection of the same thread of power. Reaching towards the lock, he felt a chill sweep through him as the magic surged in his body. His hand becoming the focus, he concentrated until a stream of cold air blasted forward to envelope the lock's mechanism, softly whistling as ice began to form.

Hoping that would be sufficient to at least delay the captain should he awake to the noise of the thieves working at the far end of the ship, Lucius started to retrace his steps.

He froze as he heard a strangled cry ahead. Though the door to the deck was open before him, he could not see any of the other thieves, and he at first thought they were either hidden by the masts or else working in the hold. That did not make any sense though, for the unloading of silk should have begun by now. A heavy thump seemed to resonate through the ship, as if something very large had been dropped, and this was followed by a shout of warning.

Startled now, and worried by what might have stirred the thieves into breaking their silence, Lucius started to run to the main deck, but was halted by the sound of movement from the stairs leading to the lower deck. The crew of the ship would have been awoken by the thieves on board, and Lucius crouched, sword drawn, ready to skewer whoever came up the stairs first.

Seeing a shadow move, the stench he had smelled before suddenly strengthened and he realised someone was approaching. He felt the comfort of the threads of magic spin in his mind's eye, ready to be unleashed if his sword alone proved insufficient. Stepping forward, blade ready, Lucius prepared to thrust his weapon into the chest of whoever emerged and then sprint out to see what danger the rest of his team faced.

A loud cry of fear and alarm rang out, resounding in the confined space. Dimly, Lucius realised it was he that had screamed. The figure before him climbed up the stairs inexorably, but he was rooted to the spot, unable to move as he watched the horror approach.

Two shiny, black eyes — each the size of his fist — looked back at him unblinking. They were mounted in a bulbous, scaly head, its wide maw filled with rows of razor-sharp teeth. It was naked, but its skin was completely cloaked in the same foul green scales that covered its head. Spines rose from the top of its skull and continued down its back, and they flattened menacingly as it spoke a language he did not recognise, a base slurping and lapping sound that no human could imitate.

Slime covered its hideous body but it was not until it raised a hand, its nails stretching out into wicked inch-long webbed claws, that Lucius was finally galvanised into action, his instinct for survival overriding his conscious mind.

Screaming again, he flailed out with his sword, but it was swatted away with a metallic chink by one of the claws. Reeling backwards from the blow, he knew the creature was immensely strong, and that he was about to die, torn apart by those talons, and then savaged and consumed by those fangs.

Reaching a hand up in defence, his fear and anger mingled, and he was distantly aware of two threads of power smashing together to form one continuous bolt of energy that whipped through his body violently. Crying out in pain now, Lucius sought to unleash the magic building up inside before it burned him to a cinder and he focussed it forward, straight into the creature.

Lightning erupted from his hand and struck the creature in the centre of its chest with a massive impact, sending it flying back down the stairs with an inhuman wail. Standing, Lucius continued to direct the flow of magic, sending bolts of white hot light down into the lower deck where they smashed into the corpse of the creature, incinerating it, before blasting through the floor into the darkest regions of the ship. The flickering light illuminated the lower deck, and he saw more of the creatures caught in the explosion, shielding their large dark eyes from the glare as they pulled themselves in through open portholes in the ship's hull.

Shouting out obscenities, Lucius directed the pulsing magical energy to wherever he saw movement, striking down one monster after another, their scales sizzling in the blinding heat. Without warning, the magic waned and he felt the two threads separate. The lightning stopped and he staggered back, suddenly weary, before collapsing to the floor.

Breathing heavily from the exertion, Lucius clumsily raised his sword to ward off a sudden rush of the creatures up the stairs, but none came. He had either destroyed them all or at least scared them off, and he sobbed for a moment, overcome by the horror of what he had faced and the sheer exhaustion of focussing so much magic at once.

More cries from the main deck cleared his fogged mind, and he clambered back on his feet. He rushed to the door shakily, and braced himself on its frame as he looked out.

The creatures covered the deck, loping along with a strange gait that seemed unsuited for dry land. Clambering over the sides of the ship, their claws digging into the wood to give purchase, dozens more were rushing away from him — and towards the thieves.

He saw men battling them, but they were completely overwhelmed by the strength and numbers of the horrors. One thief, armed with two knives, circled one of the creatures to find an opening, but — with frightening speed — it whirled round and he screamed as its claws raked his face and tore out his eyes. The creature's mouth closed upon his skull, and Lucius heard the wet crack as his head was torn apart.

Elsewhere arms were torn from sockets and bodies were hurled in great arcs through the twilight air into the sea, where their desperate cries were quickly silenced. One thief had tried to escape the carnage by climbing the mainmast, but he was quickly overtaken by two of the creatures who, using their claws, were able to scramble up the smooth wood with ease. He was cast back down to the deck, his stomach torn open with one vicious swipe.

Panicked, Lucius stalled for a moment, realising the creatures were unaware of his presence as they rejoiced in the slaughter. He saw Ambrose bravely face one creature that had its claws deep in the chest of a younger thief, and was spurred into action.

Trying to summon a wave of fire that would sweep the deck clear of those creatures closest to him, Lucius was alarmed to find the magic stutter and disappear, his concentration too muddied with fear to manipulate the threads. Desperate now, Lucius ran down the length of the ship, closing in on the nearest creature. It was alerted to his presence an instant before he struck, and began to turn just as he thrust his sword forward. The movement was sufficient to turn the blade, its edge skidding across the scales on its back. Keeping his momentum going, Lucius crashed bodily into the creature, knocking it off its feet.

Well aware of the teeth and claws that were eagerly reaching for his flesh, Lucius rolled off the beast then brought the point of his sword down into its chest. Throwing his full weight onto the weapon, he was amazed at the resistance the creature's scales gave before the blade pierced them and slid into its body.

Wailing, the creature slobbered as it died, but as Lucius stared into its large black eyes, he saw no change, no glazing of its stare as its body stopped twitching. Its eyes remained as fixed in death as they had in life.

Jumping back to his feet, he saw his attack had not gone unnoticed. Some embattled thieves cried out for help, while three of the creatures turned to avenge their fallen comrade.

"Lucius, there are too many of them!" It was Ambrose's voice that reached him, from somewhere near the prow.

He knew he could not save them all. Wherever these things had come from, they were strong, fast and deadly, and thieves were no match for them.

"Run!" he shouted. "Save yourselves!"

He saw Ambrose rally a few thieves and they began fighting as a unit, attempting to cut their way to the ramp; after having seen the fate of some of their friends, no man wanted to risk jumping into the sea.

Lucius was closer to the ramp, but his way was blocked by three of the creatures and as they loped towards him he was forced to back away. A bright burst of light illuminated the deck for a brief second, and the nearest creatures to the blast wailed as they turned away from the glare, shaking their heads in pain. Someone had used flash powder, and Lucius cursed for not taking some himself from the armoury. The distraction was enough to give the thieves room to manoeuvre, but the creatures were quick to return to the fight, dragging down the thief that had thrown the powder, as well as the man who rushed into the melee in an attempt to save him. Their strangled death cries made Lucius shudder as he reached down to draw a dagger from his boot.

Taking quick aim as the creatures approached, he threw the dagger at the leftmost of the three, and grinned as the blade sank deep into its eye, the size of the black orb making it an east target. It wailed, its inhuman voice cutting into the nerves of every man on board as it dropped to the deck and thrashed in pain, trying to remove the blade.

Seeing the opening, Lucius rushed the two remaining creatures, and they opened their arms wide, claws ready to tear him apart. He feinted to the right, and the creatures followed his movement, crouching as they prepared to leap and drag him down, but as they began to move, he quickly jinked left and leapt onto the railings lining the side of the ship.

He saw more shapes on the dockside moving in the characteristic gait of the creatures, and he inwardly groaned as he realised they would have to fight their way clear of the entire harbour, not just the ship. The railings were smooth but not wet, and Lucius hopped past the creatures on the balls of his feet before lightly dropping down behind them. He raised his sword high above his head before bringing it down on the skull of the nearest creature with all his strength. It staggered under the blow and a deep gash streamed dark blood as it sank to the deck.

The remaining creature hissed and burbled something in its mongrel language as it spun round, a claw whipping through the air. Lucius was forced to take a step back and he felt the creature's talon cut through his tunic as it sliced across his mail beneath. The links in his armour buckled under the attack, but held.

Dropping low Lucius threw out a booted foot, which crashed into its knee. This caused the creature to spit something unintelligible at him, the sound of a jellyfish being thrown against a rock, and he fancied it was a curse of some kind. However, whereas his boot would have shattered the knee of a man, it merely seemed to slow the creature down slightly. Seeing it recover, Lucius jumped to his feet and ran.

Men lay strewn across the deck, a few moaning in pain as they died from hideous wounds, but most were still in death. Ambrose and his cohorts had managed to fight their way clear to the ramp and were starting to run down it at full speed, though they were leaving many of their original number behind.

Lucius ran to join them, the creature behind in hot pursuit, but another reared up before him, just yards away from the ramp. The last thief of Ambrose's group turned as he jumped on to the ramp, and threw something at the creature's feet. Knowing what was coming next, Lucius closed his eyes as he ran and heard the muffled crump of flash powder igniting. Opening his eyes again, he saw the creature clasping its claws over its face, writhing in pain.

The thief grinned at Lucius and held out a hand for him. Lucius smiled back before gasping in horror as another creature sailed through the air, the result of a huge leap. He watched, feeling the creature was moving with agonising slowness, yet he could do nothing to alter its course. It ploughed into the back of the grinning thief, knocking him off the ramp and carrying him down to the hard stone of the dock where they landed heavily.

Lucius screamed in protest and rushed down the ramp, all too aware of the creatures swarming behind him. Something whipped through the air past his head as he ran and he glanced quickly over his shoulder to see an arrow jutting out the chest of the beast nearest him. It had stopped running, and seemed to be looking curiously at the shaft which jutted from its body.

Lucius leapt from the ramp, planting both feet on the back of the skull of one of the monsters, before they both sprawled onto the dock. As he stood, he saw that the creature was groggy from the attack, stumbling on all fours as it tried to pick itself up. Lucius sank his blade into its neck. The creature shuddered for a moment and was still.

Another shout arrested his attention and Lucius saw Ambrose waving to him. Sprinting away from the ship, he saw that the Voyager was swarming with the monsters. Others on the docks were closing in on either side, pursuing Ambrose and his remaining men. They caught one, and the man was dragged down, screaming as he thrashed about with his club. The weapon just bounced off the scales of the creature, and his cries turned to a burbled moan as it tore his throat out.

Running, Lucius passed the creatures as they began to feast on the man's body. He launched a kick at one, sending it sprawling, but carried on sprinting, knowing he could do no more for the comrade.

"To the crane!" Lucius shouted to Ambrose and the thieves ahead, and they turned as one, glad to have an order to follow, a direction to head in amongst all the chaos. Lucius looked behind once more and saw that, while the creatures were still following, they seemed to be moving slower than they had earlier. Thanking God for small mercies, he began to hope that the nightmare would soon be over.

As Lucius raced along the docks to the cliff face, he spied the waiting platform. Ambrose waved him over, and he increased his speed, ignoring his complaining muscles. A hand clapped him on the shoulder as he reached the group.

"You made it!" someone said.

Lucius looked around and saw only two other men stood with Ambrose, who was now frantically pulling on the ropes, the signal to tell the thieves working the crane to start raising the platform.

"This is all?" Lucius asked, and was answered only by mute nods.

"Look!" cried one of the thieves, pointing out into the darkness of the docks.

The creatures had massed, and were approaching the platform, fanning out to surround the thieves.

"In the name of all that's Holy, come on!" Ambrose screamed, lifting himself off his feet in the effort of jerking the rope, desperately hoping to get the attention of the wagon team above.

The creatures started to move closer, the ring drawing tighter around the men. One of the thieves unlimbered a bow and sent an arrow into the mass, but aside from drawing a hiss out of the creature it struck, it had little effect. He notched another arrow and sent it flying.

"Have they got to the men on top of the cliff too?" someone asked.

Lucius didn't see how but, seeing no movement from the crane, he jumped off the platform, sword drawn. He did not know what he was going to do, only that he hoped he could buy enough time for them to start the ascent.

One creature broke from the pack and swiped at Lucius with its claws. He parried the blow, and took a step back to avoid a second. He heard movement behind him and another creature slobbered at his back. A low whistle punctuated the air and he heard a dull thud as an arrow hit home.

Hearing an angry wail and hoping the creature behind had been taken out of the fight, Lucius stepped to one side, looking to create an opening. The creature in front followed his movements and, as it raised a claw to strike at him again, Lucius swung his sword in a wide arc, catching the creature's arm.

He felt the sword bite deep, and wondered if the creature's scales were not as thick on some parts of its body as others. It shrieked in pain, and scrambled backwards, cradling its injured arm which was hanging at an odd angle, bone sheared by the impact of Lucius' sword.

Apparently not liking the way the combat was going, the massed creatures hissed, the sound undulating eerily, sending a shiver down Lucius' back. He held his sword out in front of him as they began to advance, their movements a little halted and slow. He made a couple of feints towards the closest creatures, hoping to force them to draw back, wishing he could scare them into at least re-considering their actions. They were relentless, however, and ignored the flashes of his sword. It was not as if he were able to stop them all.

He heard a creaking behind him, and knew the strain had been taken on the ropes of the platform.

"Lucius, come on!" Ambrose cried, but he needed no prompting.

The platform was beginning to rise with agonising slowness and Lucius hurled himself up onto its wooden surface. Hands steadied him as he turned round to look down at the creatures.

Seeing their quarry beginning to escape, they hissed in frustration and some shambled forward. Lucius saw their movements were becoming more exaggerated, slow and awkward. Even so, they did not have much ground to cover and they crashed into the platform, causing it to swing alarmingly. Ambrose was thrown to one side and he clutched wildly at the rope to stop himself from toppling into the snarling mass below. Claws whipped over the edges of the platform as it continued to rise above their heads. Lucius carefully grabbed a rope to steady himself before moving to the edge and stamping down hard into a scaly face.

The scrabbling sound of claws gouging chunks from the underside of the platform caused one thief to moan in terror. He screamed as one of the creatures launched itself from below to grab onto the side of the platform, beginning to pull itself on board. Its claws dug deep into the wood, giving it all the leverage it needed. Lucius kicked out again as they all lurched crazily, but the creature ignored the blow, intent on its prey.

It reached out and dug a claw into the boot of one of the thieves. The man cried out in pain as the claw drove through leather and bone, pinning him to the wood. Another thief tried to help him but lost his grip on the rope and fell into the dark, ferocious mass now twenty yards below, the sounds of flesh being ripped apart soon cutting off his cries.

Curling an arm around the rope as he tried to gain his footing on the tilting platform, Lucius hacked down with his sword at the arm of the monster, trying to sever its hand to free the thief, but he could not gain enough purchase to put any real strength into the blow. Blood seeped from the wounds he had caused, but the creature just hissed malevolently.

"Hold on!" Lucius shouted, and the thieves gripped the ropes they were holding more firmly when they saw what he intended to do.

Strapping his sword to his back, he reached into a boot to draw his last dagger. Frantically sawing at the rope he was holding, Lucius steeled himself, closing his other hand around it in a death grip. He knew that if he were to let go, he would fall into the claws and fangs of the creatures below. The threads of the rope sprang open, one by one, until with a final lurch it broke.

Men screamed as one side of the platform gave way completely, leaving them dangling in the air by the ropes they clung to. The creature's grasp was wrenched away by the sudden movement, and the man it had pinned shrieked as the claw was ripped out with brutal force.

Lucius caught a glimpse of the creature as it fell, its shining black eyes reflecting what little light there was, before they disappeared into the churning swarm of the horde below. The crane continued to raise the tattered remains of the platform, leaving the three remaining men to look at one another with the wild eyes of those who have confronted their worst demons.

"What were those things?" Ambrose asked.

No one had an answer for him.