The Thieves Guild
by Jake Kerr.
Episode 119:
Lies.
They were small things, nearly imperceptible, something that perhaps
only a thief that was as skilled at observing as Allard was would catch:
the look of the guard toward Alexio when he was bringing their food, the
glance of Alexio toward the guard as he entered, and then his glance at
Allard as if sizing up Allard's intention of violence against an
ally. And then there were their conversations.
Alexio was quite secretive, and perhaps one could assign his
reticence to talk to his experience as a blade, but Allard saw through
that too.
However, it was the conversation about Pietro that confirmed his belief
that this prisoner was not the blade of the merchant guild.
"How did you kill Pietro?" Allard said the words bluntly, without
emotion. If others were in the room, they would have seen a calm, confident
Alexio frown as if offended,
but Allard saw something else, even in the dim light.
A flicker in the eyes, the tiniest of twitches:
fear. "I did not kill Pietro. That would have been the blade of
the craft guild."
Before meeting Vesper, Allard admitted that Vesper killing Pietro
was a possibility. But one of Vesper's strengths, and it was a
strength that Allard himself felt that Vesper didn't understand or
underestimated in himself, was his disarming honesty.
It wasn't just pride in his work, it seemed like purity of
vision, as if lying would somehow stain his work as a blade.
No, Vesper didn't kill Pietro.
Allard was sure of it. That meant that Alexio killed him and was denying
it, or that Alexio wasn't a blade at all.
And at this point, Allard was almost positive that Alexio wasn't a blade.
He was a spy for whoever had imprisoned him.
Despite Alexio's confidence, Allard had one more card to play.
"And what is the name of the blade of the craft guild?
You clearly know him if you are sure he killed Pietro."
Alexio paused before replying, and then nodding his head as if
he made some important decision, he said, "If we escape, you will kill him."
"What an absurd question. Of course I will kill him." Alexio nodded
again. "His name is Garrick. You will often find him coming in and out of the craft guild
tower, but his only business there is his work as a blade." If Alexio had
said the name Vesper, Allard still wasn't sure he would have believed him, but
the blatant lie of this Garrick name made it clear Alexio was not
to be trusted, and he almost certainly wasn't the blade of the merchant guild.
"I see." Allard didn't say anything else, and Alexio seemed
to understand that something had changed between them.
He tensed as he spoke. "When we escape, he will be easy to find."
"You give him up so easily. Is there no honor among blades?" "You're a thief,
what know you of honor?" Alexio said it casually, as if it was obvious
that he was dealing with the worst among the citizens of Ness, and that Allard would
accept such a description. Allard struggled to his feet.
The swelling in his face had gone down and he could see well enough, but his knee
was painful and stiff. He took a step toward Alexio.
"What are you doing?" Alexio's concern was not just in his body
language, it was in his spoken language now too.
"I'm going to kill you for lying to me." Alexio scrambled to his feet, and at
that moment it was clear to Allard: Alexio was not only not a blade,
he wasn't even a guard or knight. He held himself awkwardly as he faced
Allard. Smiling, Allard paused and looked Alexio up and down.
"Who are you? You are not a spy, a guard, and you are certainly not a blade.
Some lackey, a captain who felt he could score some goodwill by fooling the badly injured Allard
without risk." "I c- I told you, I'm the blade of the merchant guild."
Allard laughed. "You didn't kill Polo, fool. Two blades had already attempted to reach him.
One is most likely dead, and the other said the task was impossible.
Now he is a formidable blade, and do you know why, pretender?" "Uh, why?"
Alexio scrambled back, pressing his back against the wall of their cell.
Allard strode forward. "Because he understands power, and he understood when he didn't have
it. He didn't have the power to reach Polo, and he admitted that.
And he didn't have the power to hurt me or fool me, and he admitted that too." Allard
was within arm's reach of Alexio, who awkwardly held his hands up in a boxer's
stance. Ignoring the fists, Allard leaned forward.
"Do you have the power to hurt me, liar?" "Guard, guard!
Allard is attacking me. Help!"
Alexio tried to slip away from Allard's reach and scrambled along the wall.
Allard grabbed his arm and roughly pulled him back, spinning him around.
Alexio tried to punch Allard, who shoved him against the wall, his body hitting
the stone with a thud. As Allard closed in, Alexio kicked
Allard's damaged knee. The flash of pain was intense, but Allard ignored
it as he grabbed Alexio's head and quickly twisted it in his powerful hands,
breaking his neck.The cell door was opening, and Allard limped
quickly toward it. As it flew open, the guard entered with a sword in his
hand, looking around. Allard swung his fist down, slamming it into
the guard's wrist. With a cry of pain, the guard wrenched his arm back as the
sword went spinning to the floor.
Another step forward, two quick punches, and the guard was
on his knees. Allard would have normally knocked him aside with a solid kick, but
his knee was barely able to hold him up, let alone kick.
Allard grabbed the guard's arm in one hand, and as he pulled him to his feet with it,
he struck him in the jaw with the other.
The guard slumped to the ground, his helmet making a clang as his head hit the
floor. Grabbing the sword, Allard limped toward the door to the cell.
He walked out and immediately knew where he was.
The stone walls, the stone floor, the torches, the
long, carved hallway. He was in the mines, and the Harvest Guild
were his captors.
The good news was that he apparently had been imprisoned deep in the mines,
and there were no other guards nearby.
The bad news was that he had no idea how to get out, or how many
swords stood between him and freedom.
He limped forward, occasionally using the sword as a cane.
He had no plan other than to find sunlight.
The wall ended at another door. It was iron and locked.
He knew it was guarded on the other side, and thus, he had to come up with some kind
of plan.
He went over the options available to him.
In his younger days, he could have conceivably fought his way out.
Later in life, he could have counted on Pietro to miraculously do something that would have
saved him.
But now?
He once again thought of Vesper, who came to the old quarter to assassinate
Raillen and left the Thieves Guild an ally.
Allard pounded on the door with the hilt of the sword.
Guard, it is Allard. Your foolish spy lies dead.
The guard will have a headache, but is otherwise fine.
I had no quarrel with him, nor do I have a quarrel with you.
Guildmaster Polo had hoped to have his man earn my trust to get information from me.
I will give it gladly. I am injured and not a threat.
Allard dropped the sword, which made a clang as it hit the ground.
Take me to Polo. Put me in chains for all I care.
He wishes to hear from me, and I wish to talk to him. Let's make it so.
The door opened to blinding light from the other side.
As Allard squinted, two knights with drawn swords walked in.
Allard held up his arms.
I am prepared for chains.
Before he could say anything else, one of the knights slammed him in the face with the hilt of
his sword,
and everything once again went dark.
(dramatic music)
.