The Thieves Guild
by Jake Kerr
(dramatic music plays) . Episode 113:
Two Prisoners.
The first prisoner.
Allard awoke on his side, and as he attempted to pull himself up, he
grimaced in pain. Everything was dark.
It was darker than dark, pitch black.
The pain was intense as Allard pushed up with his arm and slowly sat
awkwardly. Everything hurt, and Allard wondered how grievously
he was wounded.
He was beaten into unconsciousness, but there was no saying how much more
damage was done while the beating had continued.
He did an assessment starting with his feet.
He was barefoot, but his feet were just bruised, probably from a few
random kicks.
His legs were covered in what felt like burlap.
Each touch caused him to wince.
He touched his knee and let out a small grunt of pain.
"It was dislocated,"
a voice from off to Allard's right said.
Allard reflexively pulled himself into a defensive posture, but all it
did was rack him with so much pain, he became nauseated.
"Your knee,
it was dislocated. I put it back in place." "Who are you?" was all
that Allard could get out as he held his body steady to avoid any more stabs
of pain. "A thank you would be nice." "Thank you.
Now, who are you?" "Better.
I'm Alexio." He paused and then added, "You're Allard, aren't you?" "I
am." "No wonder they beat you so badly. (laughs) There's nothing broken, by the way.
I don't think they were trying to break any bones, but I don't think they were trying not to break any
bones, if you get my meaning."
Allard ignored the response. "Where am I?" "Your eyes are
swollen shut, by the way." Allard reached up and felt his face.
His lips were split open in multiple places, but the blood had dried.
He also suddenly noticed that he was missing a few teeth.
As his fingers touched his eyes, he winced again.
Alexio was right. Both his eyes were shut tight behind
badly swollen tissue. "Alexio, I appreciate your updates on my health,
but it would be helpful if you let me know where I am." "I don't know." "What do you mean you don't
know?" "I woke up the same way you did, beat to near death and dumped here.
I think we're somewhere in the mines, but that's just a guess.
We could be in some cell under Harvest House." "So the Harvest Guild has us?"
"Aye." "Then it's the mines. Polo is too smart to imprison me within the city."
"If you say so." "Is there water?" Allard asked,
realizing that he was weak not just from the beating.
He must not have eaten or had a drink in many hours.
There was a shuffling sound, then a clink, and then soft padded
footsteps. Alexio's voice came from directly in front of Allard.
"Hold out your hand." Allard held out his hand, and a tin cup was
placed in his palm. Allard drank, the pain of the cool metal against his
split lip well worth the refreshing water that quenched his thirst.
"So, my friend, what brings you to this hole?" Allard didn't know who Alexio
was, but he was fairly certain that his future depended on having him as an
ally. "Mercy." "Mercy brought you here?" "Indeed.
I was certain of my date with death, but as I said, I was beaten and
awoke here." "And what was your crime?" Allard wondered if Alexio
was an outlander or perhaps a merchant guild member who had cheated a Harvest
Guild member or something similar. He knew that Alexio wasn't a thief, or
he would have known who Allard was immediately and treated him with more
respect. "I killed Polo." Allard jerked his body up,
the pain ignored as he tried to look at Alexio through his swollen face.
"Impossible." "Apparently not," Alexio replied with a
laugh. "Polo was isolated in Harvest House.
It is impossible to reach him there." "Apparently not," Alexio
repeated, again with a laugh. "How?" Allard asked,
refusing to believe what Alexio had said.
Polo's death was not only impossible, it would create chaos
within Ness. "I usually would not answer out of professional discretion,
but it doesn't look like I'll be leaving this cell anytime soon,
so why not tell you?
It was poison."
Allard took the news in. Of all the ways to assassinate Polo,
poison actually seemed like the most doable.
There were layers of people Alexio would have had to get past, but it was much more
doable than getting past his guards and reaching Polo in his
quarters. "Why?" "Because my guild master told
me to?" Allard nodded, which Alexio must have seen, as he
stated, "Yes,
I am a Blade,
the Blade of the Merchant Guild."
Before Allard could comment, Alexio added, "I obviously don't need to
explain to you why the guild master wanted him dead." "Larsen or
Caris?"
It was annoying Allard that all he was doing was asking questions, but he
had little to go on, and at least Alexio was answering them.
"Yes.""I see." With nothing to lose, Allard
decided to be blunt. "And your guild master wants you to kill me as well?"
"He does."
"And yet I'm alive."
"Well, you may be useful in helping me escape."
"I see. And after you escape?"
"I haven't decided."
Alexio laughed.
"Kill you, throw a party for you, imprison you, join
you.
(laughs) Who knows? I'll make up my mind later.
First, we have to escape."
"How difficult will it be to escape?" Allard asked, figuring he
too could make up his mind later on how to deal with his would-be assassin.
"More difficult than killing Polo,
the second prisoner."
The door slowly closed behind Raylan and was followed by the scratch of a key
and a click. Just for amusement, Raylan checked the door.
It was locked with no way to unlock it on his side.
That was, of course, expected. What Raylan didn't
expect was the prison that surrounded him.
It was a room larger than his guild master quarters back in Ness.
As he walked down the center of the room, he was further shocked.
While not as luxurious as his guild master quarters, it was close.
In the rear was a large bed with bedposts and a canopy.
It was almost too royal for Raylan's comfort.
Along the wall with the door were shelves with knickknacks, and on the wall
were landscape paintings of fields, one of a river, and a
majestic piece of goat land.
The walls were stone, as was the floor, but the floor was covered with thick
rugs. The rugs were soft, but faded and threadbare in places.
To his left, as he faced the bed, was a large opening to another room.
To his right was a large empty fireplace.
To his shock, there were fireplace tongs, which he could easily use as a
weapon. "What is this?" Raylan thought.
"It's like I'm a guest, not a prisoner."
The nightstands next to the bed were covered with dust.
In fact, everything was covered in dust, including the bed covers.
The room hadn't been disturbed in a very long time.
Walking through the arch and into the adjoining room, Raylan smiled.
Rafe would consider this an escape, not a prison.
He was surrounded by books. From floor to ceiling, the shelves were filled
with bound volumes.
They covered every wall.
In the center of the room was a dark wooden desk, so dark that Raylan
didn't think that the wood was real.
A quill and an empty inkwell were all that occupied it.
Opening one of the books, Raylan was surprised to see that it wasn't like the
books he saw in Ness, with elegant words in straight lines.
The contents of the book looked handwritten, and in some ways, rushed.
He gently put the book back and looked at another one.
He found the same thing.
He had just returned a third book with the same scrawl, all of which
seemed to be by the same hand, when he heard a click and the door to his prison
opening.
Raylan walked out to be greeted by a familiar face,
Joseph, Lord Wilhelm's second. He stood rigidly with his
arms behind his back. The door behind him was open, and he had no
guard.
Clearly, the Outlanders didn't think Raylan would be foolish enough to try to escape.
Even if he got outside the city, how would he return to Ness?
"Guild master, it is a pleasure to meet you again."
Joseph bowed, and Raylan nodded his head, which seemed like the right thing
to do, but he was unsure of the Outlander customs.
"I wish I could say the same, Joseph, but it appears that I am imprisoned."
Joseph brought his hands forward and waved them in denial.
"Imprisoned is perhaps too strong a term.
Do you not like your quarters?" "My cell appears comfortable," Raylan replied,
presenting as stern a countenance as he could muster.
"Uh,
yes. Be that as it may, I am glad you are comfortable.
I am here to provide you with some guidance."
His hands returned to being clasped behind his back.
"You will be served food and drink in the morning, midday, and evening.
You are free to talk to the guards that bring your food, but they will not answer or reply."
"Have you considered that I could perhaps engage their interest and convince them to free me
over time?" Raylan smiled. It was a performance, of course, but he
enjoyed taunting the uptight Outlander second.
"I have not considered that, as we have cut their tongues out."
Joseph then added, "But you are certainly welcome to try." The words were
spoken with such nonchalance that Raylan couldn't discount them as Joseph
attempting to shock him.
Were the Outlanders so vicious that they removed the tongues of prison guards?
Shaken a bit, Raylan simply nodded in reply.
"You may partake in whatever pursuit you desire.
Simply ask the guard, they can hear, of course.
We do respect your position, guild master.
If you desire a man or woman for company, it can be provided, but it will only be for one evening and
never the same person."
Raylan was going to reply that it wouldn't be necessary, but instead, he decided
to push Joseph. "And will their tongues be cut out?" "That would
limit their usefulness, no?" Joseph replied, and again, his
casual cruelty left Raylan speechless.
"I want to be clear, Guildmaster. Yes, you are imprisoned here, but we respect you and
your guild. We want you to be comfortable and not suffer.
Do you have any questions?"
"How long will I be imprisoned?"
Relan assumed the answer would be "forever", but he was shocked when Joseph thought
for a moment before answering.
"That is, of course, up to the Crown, but I would say that it will depend
on how our attack on Ness goes.
If successful, you may be useful as a servant to Lord Wilhelm there.
If not, you may be useful to limit the damage.
But what that means, I know not.
It is possible that your use to us ended with your inability to open the trade
route."
"And in that case?"
"You will never see sunlight again."
The comment from Joseph made Relan realize that the room had no
windows. Perhaps it truly was a prison converted into a room.
It was all such an odd arrangement. Without thinking, Relan muttered-
"What is this room?"
"The room?"
Realizing he could simply ask Joseph, Relan decided to do so.
"Yes, this room.
Someone lived here, but clearly very long ago.
It is a prison, yet there are beautiful paintings on the wall, and someone filled
dozens of volumes with writing at a lonely desk."
"This room was Pietro's cell for many, many years, but that was
before my time, and before he was released.
He presumably spent the entire time filling pages with his writing."
Joseph shrugged.
"He is still referred to as 'the Scribe' by the older guards who heard
stories from their parents about Pietro's time here.
Pietro was young then, and there is no one left alive from that time."
"Pietro was imprisoned here?"
Relan couldn't hide his shock.
Joseph shook his head.
"You really do know nothing of the world you live in, do you, Guildmaster?"
And with a crisp nod of his head, Joseph turned and exited the room,
locking the door behind him.
(dramatic music)