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(suspenseful music) The Thieves Guild

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by Jake Kerr.

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Episode 38:

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Caught.

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Mailer knew she didn't really have an hour to get
to Polo.

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She'd spun a story of a tragedy with the guard,
Richard, and if he lived close

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by, they'd be back quickly once they discovered
the falsehood.

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Still, Mailer felt confident as she didn't have a
large area to search.

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The passage was clearly within the massive tree
trunk that grew up into the ceiling, and

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to Polo's quarters.

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After 10 minutes of searching, however, her
optimism was fading.

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She'd examined practically every nook and cranny
of the bark around the tree itself.

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There were no levers, no buttons, no cracks, and
no doors.

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It was rough, deep brown bark.

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She turned her attention to the front of the tree.

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The throne looked like it was carved out of the
curvature of the tree, creating a natural niche.

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The trunk itself acted as a majestic back that
climbed all the way to the

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ceiling, while the sides acted as the walls of the
wooden alcove.

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A closer look revealed that the alcove had not
actually been carved at

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all. It grew that way. The throne had a wooden
seat and

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armrests that looked so much like a real throne
that Mailer was certain

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they, at least, were carved out of the wood.

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But a closer look showed that they too were
natural.

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The Harvest House tree had been somehow grown to
house the throne.

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Running her fingers along the armrests and the
sides of the alcove the throne sat in,

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Mailer looked for levers or some other way to
uncover steps, or even

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lift the throne itself up through the massive
trunk. But there was nothing.

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At that point, Mailer started to reconsider
whether she was actually right.

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While the throne was embedded in the huge trunk, a
quick glance up showed

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solid wood. There was no hollowed out passage up
to the second floor.

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To make matters worse, when she rapped on the wood
of the tree to the sides and back of the throne,

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the sound indicated solid wood. Mailer tensed as
she heard a shout in the

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distance, followed by the clang of armored men
moving in a hurry.

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Despairing of a solution, Mailer sat down on the
throne and pretended she was

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Polo. "Uh, I'm looking out on my guild members
while being embraced by the living

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tree that is the heart of the guild. I spend hours
on guild business.

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My day is done, what do I do next?" Mailer looked
up and saw solid wood.

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She ran her hands along the smooth wood.

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It was difficult to concentrate, as Mailer heard
another shout, much closer, and the

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sound of swords being unsheathed. "What I really
want is to just close my

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eyes and have the tree to take me to my quarters."
She shot upright.

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The entire house was a living thing. The throne
wasn't carved, it was grown that way.

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But maybe it wasn't pruned and shaped, maybe the
tree is doing this out of its love for the

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guild. The idea was absurd, of course.

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A giant thinking tree that works with the guild
master?

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It seemed magical, and magic didn't exist.

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Still, the doors burst open and a group of knights
ran toward her.

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Mailer closed her eyes and gripped the wood of the
armrests.

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"Harvest Tree, I need your help. I don't know if

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you can see into my heart, but I am here to help
the guild master.

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But I can only do that if I can talk to him. I
need to reach him.

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He needs my help. I need your help to help him.

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Will you help me?"

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There was no grinding that you would expect from
stone.

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There wasn't even the creaking that you would
expect from old or dried wood being

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lifted or moved. There was only a slight whoosh
sound, a sound akin

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to leaves blowing in the wind. Mailer opened her
eyes just as

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living wood and bark sealed the gap in front of
her.

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There was a glint of shiny metal, and then

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darkness. She was sealed inside the trunk of the
tree.

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Within moments, Mailer felt a slight pressure
against her bottom and feet.

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She couldn't see anything, but there was the
perception of vertical movement, even though

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her sense of touch revealed nothing more than her
sitting on the throne with her

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hands on the armrests.

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A slight lurch jostled Mailer in the seat, and
then a crack appeared in front

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of her. It widened as she watched the wood pull
back, once again with the

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sound of wind blowing through leaves.

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It almost looked as if the wood in front of her
face was melting into the sides as the throne

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alcove was revealed.

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It didn't take more than a few seconds for Mailer
to realize she was in the guild master's

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quarters. The light was dim, and she looked out on
a room that was much

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smaller than the hall below. If possible, the
quarters were even more

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natural than the guild hall. The walls were
natural wood bark,

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while the large window that looked out on the wall
in the distance didn't have

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glass, but rather was open to the air.

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Rising from the throne and stepping as quietly as
she could in the armor, Mailer prepared

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herself to be confronted by a guard. A glance to
the left showed a single door

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with an entryway filled with flowers and green
plants.

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Across from the throne was the large window that
looked to the east and the great wall in the

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distance.

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To her right was a circular staircase that looked
like it was woven out of

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branches.

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It presumably led to the roof of Harvest House.

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To the right of the staircase was a large bed,
upon which slept

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Polo.Meila took another glance around the room,
but it

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was nothing more than a sleeping quarters, with a
few pieces of furniture,

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presumably formed from the branches of the great
living tree.

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Not wanting to scare Polo, Meila slipped off her
helm and placed

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it on the floor. She also went over to the flowers
and snipped off a

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brilliant red rose.

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Certainly Guild Master Polo would know that a
young woman bearing a flower was

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not an assassin. With no plan other than to talk
to the guild master,

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Meila walked over and gently shoved the old man on
the shoulder.

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"Guild Master, I have a message for you," she
whispered.

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With surprising speed, Polo whipped around with a
dagger in his left hand.

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He held it between himself and Meila as he slid
away from her.

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He looked to be about to call for someone when he
caught sight of the red rose in Meila's

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left hand.

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"I'm old and cautious, but I'm not a fool.

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If you were an assassin, I would be dead."

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He nodded to the rose.

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"Nor would you wield such a weapon."

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Guild Master-

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"You will shut your mouth, or I will call my
guards immediately.

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You will answer my questions, and you will only
speak when I permit you."

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Meila nodded.

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"Good. You are wise for your years." Polo slid
back some more and

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climbed out of his bed. "Sit on that chair over
there." He motioned with his chin to an

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area behind Meila. Looking back, Meila noticed a
stool that was

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near what appeared to be an empty workbench.

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Walking over, she sat down on the stool, which was
attached to the floor.

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She placed the rose on the bench. Polo walked
around his bed and sat on the

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edge, holding the dagger toward Meila.

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"How did you get in here?"

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"I sat on the throne and the tree delivered me to
your quarters."

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"Impossible. The tree will only heed the commands
of the guild master."

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"I, I did not command the tree. I requested that
it deliver me to you, as I have an important

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message that will help keep you safe."

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Polo nodded, but kept the dagger poised in his
hand.

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"What is this message that concerns my safety?"

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Meila felt a rush of relief. She had achieved her
mission.

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"The guild master merchant has sent his deputy off
to the outlanders to hire an

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assassin to kill you. His goal has no point of
failure, as if the assassin succeeds,

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you will be out of his way. If the assassin fails,
he will rally the populace against the

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outlanders and unite the city through fear in a
way that he couldn't through political

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maneuvering."

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Polo stared at Meila for a few seconds.

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"That's it?"

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Meila was confused by Polo's response.

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"Yes. But the key part of the message is not that
you should protect yourself.

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You obviously know this. It is that when you
capture the outlander, you do not make it

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public."

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Meila wasn't sure what kind of response her
message would receive, but she did not expect the
one

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Polo gave.

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"Do you take me for a child?"

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"Um," she stammered. "No, sir."

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"I was guild master before you were born.

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Do you think I am so stupid as to allow Larsen to
use an outlander to gain an

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advantage over me?"

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Polo sighed.

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"In fact, the message you delivered that matters
most to me is your presence.

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You somehow got through my defenses, and how you
did that is information

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I consider valuable."

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This was not going how Meila had planned.

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She had hoped he would thank her for the
information, and then, in gratitude, let her go.

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In hindsight, it was an optimistic assumption, and
that was nowhere more

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evident than in Polo's current line of discussion,
which centered around her as an

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intruder, not a savior.

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"Who are you?"

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"I'm Lavender, a guild member from the outer
fields.

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My father has a distant relative who is an
outlander, and he informed me of the plan and told
me to

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give you the message out of our loyalty to the
guild."

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Meila bowed her head.

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"Nonsense."

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For the first time since Meila woke him, Polo
appeared angry.

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"You did not get into my quarters being just some
field worker."

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Polo stood up, and as Meila went to stand, Polo
waved his

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dagger.

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"Stay seated."

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Meila sat down.

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"I know who you are. Again, do you take me for a
fool?

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You are a guild master blade."

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Meila had to admit that Polo was definitely not
stupid.

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"I am not, Guild Master."

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Meila picked up the rose.

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"Do blades bear roses?"

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Polo laughed.

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"I didn't say you were an enemy blade, just that
you are a blade.

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If you were Saxes or Larsen's blade, I'd be dead.

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And Orion, I think his blade is probably a jester.
No, I know who you are.

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You are Quinto's blade."

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"Quinto, the Guild Master ranger?"

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As soon as Meila asked the question, she realized
why Polo thought that way.

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"Yes. The rangers live outside the wall and would
know what is happening with the

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outlanders, and Quinto hates Larsen. Hell, he
hates all of the guild masters.

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However, he loves the city, and if he felt warning
me would help, I could see him

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doing it."

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Polo stared at Meila.

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"He's also politically naive enough to think I
would need

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such a useless warning."

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"I'm sorry, sir, but I'm not a blade. I'm a
Harvest Guild member."

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Polo turned and yelled out, "Guards, enter now,
guards."

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Turning back to Meila, Polo said.

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"You should just admit it now, you are the blade
of the Rangers Guild."

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"I am not, Guild Master Polo, I assure you,"

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Meila replied as the door swung open and two of
Polo's personal guards rushed in.

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They were in chainmail and looked nearly as
intimidating as Allard.

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Meila knew she had no chance of fighting her way
out. She stood up.

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"I am so sorry, Guild Master. I was hoping to do a
kindness to the guild.

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I apologize for not realizing you would already
know this."

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She took a step forward.

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"Are the guards going to throw me out?

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Are you going to expel me from the guild?"

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Polo laughed.

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"Goodness, no.

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They're going to throw you in prison."

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(dramatic music)