The Thieves Guild,
by Jake Care.
Episode 7:
Back to the Four Corners.
Rafe had assumed Raylan was dead. He watched from a dark corner as the guard
slammed his friend's forehead again and again into the heavy wooden table,
all for something that Rafe had done.
He was ashamed that he didn't jump in and let them all know the truth.
He had thrown the tomato. It was all his fault.
What made him feel worse was that his perception of Raylan was all wrong.
He had been seething as Raylan recounted the story of his heroic toss at the
knight.
Somehow, Raylan always got the credit when nothing went wrong, and Rafe got the blame when
they were caught. He was on the verge of breaking off their friendship when Deputy
Carch walked in.
And even as he was having his head slammed against a table, Raylan didn't once say that
it was Rafe who had thrown the tomato.
There was an honor in Raylan that Rafe had never recognized.
Sure, it was easy to see his brashness and his hatred for authority,
and his joy in driving his brother mad, but Rafe was starting to think that
underneath it all was some kind of noble pursuit.
He didn't know what that pursuit was, but the moment that Rafe discovered that Raylan
was alive, he knew he wanted to be a part of it.
(bell ringing)
He had returned to the Four Corners that evening, feeling depressed and helpless.
All he wanted to do was drink some ale, remember his friend, and see if anyone had
any news. The entire atmosphere of the inn changed in the evening,
with older apprentices and masters from various guilds relaxing after a
day of labor, replacing the younger apprentices and guildless who inhabited
the inn during the day.
One thing hadn't changed however: Raylan was the center of attention.
This time, however, it wasn't his storytelling, but rather the news that he had been
elevated to guild master thief. At a table near the back, Rafe
noticed several of the young apprentices who had been listening and laughing to Raylan
earlier. He hurried over for news.
And my brother has a slingshot. With the cage, it will be difficult, but
I swear I'm going to hit him in the eye with a piece of gravel.
How great will it be to have a guild master thief with an eyepatch?
The whole table laughed as the harvest apprentice covered his eye with his hand,
and squinted with his other one.
(laughs)
Rafe stood in the background, listening to them all.
Kyral, the young apprentice who cheered the loudest at Raylan's story, discussed
how he had saved up some rotten tomatoes to throw at Raylan.
Another apprentice talked about how they should donate crowns to a pot, and whoever drew blood
first would win the entire prize.
He had debated storming in and embarrassing them all, berating them for their
childishness and lack of support for their friend.
Even if Raylan wasn't a friend to them, he shared a story with them that caused him to
get beaten severely. Certainly that counted for something.
But he couldn't.
Rafe cursed himself as he shuffled out of the inn.
He just couldn't stand confrontation at such a personal level.
He could incite chaos, and he had done so many times at Raylan's goading,
but he just couldn't stand arguing with someone or a group of people.
Hit and run. Yeah, that's how I operate.
While Rafe considered it a somewhat demeaning strategy, it was what he knew best.
Now he just needed to find a way to help Raylan by hitting and running.
Of course, before he could do that, he had to find him, and he had no idea where Raylan
was. He asked everyone he knew, and no one had ever considered where Pietro lived.
As far as they knew, he just wandered the streets.
It was deep into the night before he gave up.
He returned to his quarters with a simple plan: he would wait for Raylan at the end of the
Founder's Day Parade. He couldn't help his friend get through that ordeal, but he would be
there for him at the end. As he lay his head down on his straw mat and closed his
eyes, an exciting possibility entered Rafe's mind.
He could join the Thieves Guild.
He thought of dashing feats of robbery, where he would steal from the
mansions in the Upper Triangle and give the proceeds to the poor folks in the
flats or even the Old Quarter. He pictured himself roaming the streets in his
ominous black robe, the knights hunting him down while citizens cheered him
on. He fell asleep and dreamt of countless adventures, all involving a
black robe and plenty of daring.
Could being a thief really be that bad?
(instrumental music plays)