The Thieves Guild
by Jake Kerr.
Episode 67:
Flames Along the Throughway.
With less than three hours of sleep and little time other than to change his
sooty clothes filled with the stink of smoke, Rogers left Mas in control
of the Flats while he traveled to the Lower Triangle.
The previous evening, the Ironsides and Grell Estates had both burned to the ground
while the fires along the river were still burning into midday.
Things were still bad in the Flats, but they appeared to be coming under
control, and Rogers needed to get to the Lower Triangle.
As he grabbed the reins of his horse, Rogers tried to grasp the scale of the
disaster. In the Flats alone, it was too much for the fire protectors to
handle. He couldn't imagine what was going on in the Lower Triangle.
Rogers had every available thief assisting, but it still wasn't enough.
"We need Maela," Rogers thought. Maela, before she went on the
fool's errand as the new Blade of the Guildmaster, was the captain of the
Flats. She knew everyone and had every nook, cranny, family, street,
and building memorized. Rogers didn't like her methods, and was
constantly annoyed as she ignored his attempts to teach her, but he knew she had
good instincts and even better knowledge.
Without Maela, Rogers was stretched thin.
He was confident Moss could manage things, but Moss didn't have the creative
and decisive mind of Maela. Still, there was nothing
Rogers could do. While the damage in the Flats was catastrophic,
the fires in the Lower Triangle were still raging, and on course to be even
worse. He had to trust Moss and get to where the fires were still
burning unchecked.
The moment he arrived at the Greenbelt, he realized why things
were so bad. "Where are the fire protectors?" he asked as he grabbed a
young Harvest Guild member, who appeared to be in shock as she watched an
entire swath of the city burn.
I was told they are stretched too thin.
They can't be everywhere at once.
The words came out as if the young woman was
simply repeating something she had been told.
Rogers watched as Harvest Guild members bore pails and buckets to fight the
flames. Many of the homes had already burned out, leaving nothing but
charred cinders behind. He knew that many of the Harvest Guild members helping
were thieves, doing their best to assist the city.
The Greenbelt stretched along the north side of the major road that split the
Flats and the Lower Triangle. Officially named Founders Path, the
road was commonly called by the simpler name of the Throughway.
Wide enough to fit three wagons, the Throughway was the major artery that
linked the Warehouse District with the many shops in the Flats and Lower
Triangle.
The Greenbelt featured bigger homes with larger lots than were found in the
Flats, which made it clear that if you lived there, you were wealthier.
The phrase, "from the wrong side of the Throughway" was a common description
for the residents of the smaller houses on the Flats side of the road,
and one that indicated the often divisive conflict between the two
sections of the city.
The fires had shown no such prejudice, striking both sides of the Throughway
with equal ferocity. The lush lawns that were one of the reasons for
the Greenbelt's name stretched nearly from the river to Founders Park and
Merchant Tower,
and as Rogers rode along the Throughway, the houses behind every
lawn seemed to be burning.
Rogers couldn't understand how that could even happen.
The houses weren't packed as close as those in the Flats, and yet the fires were worse
here than there.
Part of it was clearly due to the lack of fire protectors.
The houses burned, the embers floated to nearby houses, and the flames
took hold. But it was obvious more was at play.
The ride toward the river along the Throughway was heartbreaking.
The fires started near the river and had spread toward the east, and what
started as frantic guild members fighting newly burning buildings turned into
stunned masses of families staring at the last few flames licking the
splintered wood of homes, minutes from collapsing, and finally to the
smoldering ruins of the early fires, with nothing left but ash and
dust. As he rode, another tragedy unfolded, the brazen
efforts of the merchant guards to clear the Harvest Guild out of the Flats and the
Lower Triangle.
Rogers had his suspicions the night before, but as he continued to
organize the fighting of the fires, all he could do was watch the blue
wagons take people away.
Of course, it appeared that they were being taken to shelter, but Rogers had seen
far too many machinations from the merchants to believe that.
What was a suspicion in the Flats was confirmed in the Lower Triangle.
It was as obvious as it was heartless.
There weren't enough wagons to clear all the people out, so while their own home
smoldered, merchant guards used swords and clubs to push the Harvest
Guild families toward the great river.His deputy captain was
overseeing firefighting duty, so Rogers looked for a thief that he recognized.
He finally found one as he was about to give up and head back to the still-burning
fires.
An older thief, who had retired from active duty, was holding the arm of
an elderly Harvest Guild member and guiding her away from a Merchant Guild
wagon that had pulled up. "Killian."
The thief turned and bowed his head slightly to his thief captain.
"Old friend." Rogers strode up to him and lowered his voice to a whisper
as they gave each other a firm handshake.
Killian whispered in the woman's ear and pointed her to someone further up the
road.
As she left, Rogers spoke in a hushed whisper.
"The Merchant Guild is marching the Greenbelt residents toward the river.
Do you know where they are taking them?"
Rogers wondered if Larson had some insane desire to take over the
Greenbelt for a palace or something and was forcibly relocating the
Harvest Guild members to the Flats.
Killian's face was set in a grim frown.
"Afraid not, sir, but you are right. Even with the distraction of the fires, it
is clear the merchants have something in mind for the Harvest Guild members.
It would not surprise me if they plan on moving hundreds of families." "Could they
be moving them to the Flats, sir?" Killian shrugged. "We should send someone to look. I...
I would go, but my best days are behind me."
Without waiting for a reply from Rogers, Killian called out, "Feros."
A young boy, probably as new to the guild as Relin, ran up.
"Captain Rogers has a mission for you." Killian turned to Rogers.
"I need you to travel toward the Great River and follow one of the Harvest Family groups being marched away
by the merchants.
They are being forcibly relocated, and I want to know where they are taking them.
When you find out, I want you to find a fast-running guild mate and have him or her
take a message to the Black Tower telling the guild master or deputy guild master what
is happening. The Merchant Guild is attacking the Harvest Guild and marching them as prisoners
to whatever destination you find out.
Then you return to me here and tell me what you've discovered." "Yes, captain."
And without even awaiting a dismissal, the young man named Feros was off.
While waiting for the scout to return, Rogers put all his efforts into containing
the fires. It was at that moment that he realized something he should have caught
earlier, the knights were in league with the merchants.
The fires in the Flats were either burnt out or under control, and yet there
were no members of the Fire Protectors fighting the flames in the Greenbelt.
The wagons with the pumps that shot water, the large buckets and teams of
people to douse the flames with them, all the materials that would help get the
Greenbelt fires under control were missing.
As an ember set fire to yet another straw roof, Rogers felt a hand
roughly grabbing his sleeve. As he turned in anger, he saw that it was
Feros. "Feros, what have you found?"
The young boy looked stunned. "The Merchant Guild is marching the Harvest Guild members over the
Great Bridge and forcing them into the Old Quarter."
Feros looked stricken. "Hundreds of people, captain. Hundreds.
They're going to overrun the Old Quarter.
There are too many for us to turn back by force."
Rogers grabbed the boy's shoulders.
"Did you send a messenger to the Black Tower?"
The boy nodded. "Then you did good, Feros.
Thank you."
Rogers wondered what would happen next.
The fires would finally die out, but the anger of the Harvest Guild never
would. Turning back to Feros, Rogers asked, "How fresh are your legs?
Can you make it to Moss in the Flats?" "Yes, sir.
I am winded, but will recover soon enough." "Good.
As soon as you can, go find Moss. Tell him that he has a new mission.
He is to no longer prepare for fighting fires."
Rogers shook his head as he said the words.
"He is to prepare for civil war."
(instrumental music plays)