The Thief's Guild
by Jake Kerr.
Episode 93:
Executioner's Hollow.
Rodgers had been through a lot of sewers as a thief captain.
They were never used by other guild members beyond the maintenance sub-guilds, and
those were all thief members as well.
The underground pathways linked many destinations that were important to
thieves.
There was even a famous tunnel from years gone by that had been called the
Throughway, as it ran along the North Fork, was wide and easily
traveled, and was used by the thieves to transport stolen goods from the
Warehouse District to the Old Quarter.
This was much like how the Throughway was used to do the same thing for the
merchants and craftsmen above ground.
That tunnel, unfortunately, had collapsed many years before, but it was
indicative of the use that the thieves made of the sewers.
The Harvest Guild members knew none of this, and thus the tunnel that led to
Executioner's Hollow elicited complaints from the injured on how
uneven the path was and how difficult it was to travel.
For Rodgers, however, it was a delight, no shit or piss, and a small
trickle of fresh water. It was a natural tunnel that seemed to be
independent of the sewers. "No wonder we never knew of this," Rodgers
thought, as they made another turn and yet again failed to pass a side
tunnel or a man-made sewer access.
It appeared to be a natural tunnel that had no purpose beyond its
accidental use as a road between the pit and Executioner's Hollow.
There was light ahead, and as it increased in intensity, so did the
noxious stench of rotting flesh. A young Harvest Guild member
asked,
"You're from the outer fields and have never made this journey?"
Rodgers nodded, and the boy said...
"Then you should gird your gourd. This is not a pleasant
experience."
"Thank you," Rodgers replied, half-alarmed at
what he would find and half-amused at the boy's use of the phrase, "gird
your gourd."
It turned out to be much worse than Rodgers expected.
The cave opened at the narrow end of a small canyon or crevice
more than canyon.
As it spread to more than shoulder length, the bones started to appear,
and after a few more steps, the light dimmed.
Looking up, Rodgers could see why. Bleached white leg bones and ribs
had created a lattice above their heads.
The bodies that were thrown into the cavern had stuck in the narrowing of the walls above
them, and as they decayed, the bones created a kind of trap.
As more bodies were thrown into the crevice, the bones became interlocked with
those beneath, and the entire thing created a ceiling of bone.
Beneath his feet, Rodgers could see the remnants of crushed bone that those
that had traveled before had ground into pieces.
"It is worse ahead.
There is no ceiling to clear the floor,
so we've created a path among the dead.
But fresh bodies slide down and often block the path."
And as the light once again shone down, Rodgers could see what the boy
meant.
There was no natural ceiling of bone, no floor of crushed yet powdery
bone, no way to try to imagine a way the horror in front of you.
There were skeletons and bodies piled to the left, and a small path to the
right that hugged the wall. The smell was overwhelming, and it took all of
Rodgers' willpower not to vomit.
From the pools that he worked to avoid, Rodgers could tell that several of those who came
through before him were not so strong-willed.
There were skeletons piled so high on the left that it was clear why the
path was not discovered by the knights. It was barely visible.
Additionally, it was clear that this was the main point where the knights
tossed those executed from the Hollow, as there was no clear path.
He had to step over bloated bodies and freshly dead, their faces
recently alive but unrecognizable due to being picked
over by carrion.
The path was nothing more than gaps between and over skeletons and
bodies, with the bodies shoved to the side when they blocked the path.
Eventually, they became skeletons and were more easily cleared.
Rodgers knew that he was surrounded by dozens of his guild mates, killed
by the knights after being caught stealing something from the Silo or
Warehouse District, or for some minor offense, in another part of
Ness. It didn't matter.
Thieves were executed.
It was the will of all the guild masters.
It didn't hit him hard until he stepped over the body of a fat man who must have
been dumped within the past few days.
Rodgers looked down as he tried to step around him, or at least on him, with a
modicum of respect.
It was Dealey, one of Mailer's key thief lieutenants in the Flats.
He was deeply placed within the Harvest Guild, and Rodgers immediately knew
that Dealey had done his duty as a thief and was helping Harvest Guild members,
and in the process, paid the ultimate price....
Deli war no guild colors, so Rogers was certain he was
executed as a thief and his colors ripped from his body, but
Rogers couldn't imagine why Deli would steal things amid the attack on the
Harvest Guild. What was worth the risk of stealing in the lower quarter
while so much other activity was going on?
Rogers would never know, so he silently saluted his guild mate and
moved on.
Thankfully, the trail started to lead up, and the bodies were soon left
behind.
The trail at the top was narrow and treacherous for all but the children.
They emerged to the north of Executioner's Hollow behind a hill that was one of
the group of hills that surrounded the hollow that contained the killing field of the
knights. There was a cart stained dark with dried and drying blood
near the lip of the crevice. A large dark-skinned man with a long
beard stood waiting for them.
They are waiting to the northwest.
There is a valley that is nestled next to a small hill that hides
us from the wall.
Rodgers nodded. "What about the Rangers?"
They avoid Executioner's Hollow,
but we will undoubtedly meet them as we approach the outer fields.
"Let us go, then."
Rogers helped the stragglers as best he could, but the injured had trouble moving,
and the young were all too ready to run off and investigate hilltops and random
paths.
His group finally reached the valley, and Rogers took stock.
There were a few dozen healthy men and women, a large group of children, and a
smaller group of badly injured. Two men approached.
Rogers, is it?
It was a young man with flowing black hair.
He looked grim, but excited. Rogers nodded.
"I'm Roe."
Rogers'
face lit up. "The brave young man who made our initial plan a success."
"You have an odd definition of success."
Rogers was somewhat taken aback. Had he not saved them?
"We should have fled immediately, but that fool Graff wanted us to defend the
neighborhood."
"Respect Roe, Graff died defending our homes."
It was the bald old man that he had seen back in the pit.
"Aye, Valmer."
Roe turned to Rogers.
"So, we are to flee around the wall to the north and head to the outer fields?"
The question reminded Rogers that despite their perseverance, the families
from the pit still needed leadership.
"Yes, we will need to go very wide as to avoid the White Guard."
"It's a long journey on foot, especially with injured."
"There is no option. I don't believe separating us is wise.
Our numbers are still enough to make a small group pause before harassing us.
That will not be the case if we are fewer in number."
Both Valmer and Roe nodded.
"Perhaps the Rangers will assist us."
Rogers found the comment both interesting and encouraging.
It was well known that as the only two guilds that operated outside the
wall, the Rangers and Harvest Guilds were close, but the Rangers were
officially a sub-guild of the knights,
and their loyalties were supposed to lie there.
Of course, it was well known that Quinto loathed Sacs, so perhaps those
loyalties were considerably weakened.
They made dreadful progress. Without wagons or horses, the injured
had to be assisted or carried, and that slowed everyone done to
practically a crawl.
The good news was that they were out of sight of the wall, and the knights didn't seem to
know or care about what became of the residents of the pit.
Rogers was constantly tempted to head back.
He was doing important work, but he was the captain of the lower quarter, and
he was no longer there helping in any way.
He knew things were in good hands with Mas, but he still felt the pull of his
duties. There were armed men at the front and rear, and Rogers himself
wandered along the line of travelers. He wasn't sure how long the trip would take.
He had hoped a single day, but with the pace, it could easily have gone
more, which meant that they were going to be in jeopardy of hunger and thirst.
There was a shout from the front of the group, and Rogers sprinted ahead.
His fear that the knights had found them was replaced by uncertainty when he
saw the two men wearing brown. They both had bows slung over their shoulders
and wore a mixture of deep brown and flat green. Rangers.
The question as to whether the Rangers would help or not was soon to be answered.
He approached as one of the Rangers was finishing talking.
"The knights attacked you?"
"No,"
Rogers said emphatically as he stopped in front of the two.
They both turned and peered at him.
"The merchant guards were aiming to clear the pit and move everyone to the wretched quarter."
"I don't know of this pit, but you say that the mer- (laughs) Merchant
Guild is attacking the Harvest Guild?"
He turned to someone Rogers didn't know.
"Then why did you say knights were attacking?"
"Your brethren are in league with the merchants.
While the merchants attacked first, we had word that knights with cavalry were on the way to finish the
job."
The two Rangers looked at each other.
The one who had been speaking turned to Rogers.
"And you are leading this group? Uh, what is your name?"
"I am leading purely by fate. I am Rogers, and I am from the inner fields.
I found myself nearby when the merchants attacked and am doing my duty in assisting.
If I am leading, it is only due to circumstance, not right."
The Ranger nodded and looked to the distance.
"You are taking them to the outer fields?
Uh-"
"Yes, we will find shelter with our guild."
And why did Guildmaster Polo not send help or join the defense of
his guild members?
Rogers had often asked himself the same question over the past two days.
He shared his best guess.
I know not. I believe it is due to the surprise nature of the attack.
His guards are near Harvest House, and those who were caught in the lower quarter were ill-prepared to
defend against the attack.
Additionally, many of the homes were burned to the ground, so there was confusion as well.
We don't care much for city concerns, but this is, this is troubling.
I will need you to come with me and report to Guildmaster Quinto.
He turned to his colleague.
Gather food and water. From camp, send word to Captain Uros, uh,
and see if you can get some horses or carts to help with
the injured.
Turning to Rogers, he added...
Tell your guild mates to wait here. We will bring assistance.
Rogers went up and down along the group and told everyone that the Rangers
were going to be sending help.
The response elicited cries of thanks and many comments about the
goodness of the Ranger Guild. When he returned to the Ranger who had done the
speaking, he was standing by himself, his colleague presumably
off getting help.
So, what is your name?
Uh, I apologize for not introducing myself. I am Vilo.
He held out his hand, and Rogers shook it.
Thank you for your assistance, Vilo.
The ranger shrugged.
A burning city is not worth defending.
He turned and added as he started a brisk march out of the hills.
Follow me, Rogers. It is a good distance to Guildmaster Quinto, and we will be on
foot, but it is an easy journey.
Rogers shook his head as he increased his pace.
He had never seen a ranger in his life, and now he was heading off to meet with their
guild master
(dramatic music)
.