The Shadowmage Trilogy (Twilight of Kerberos: The Shadowmage Books) (30 page)

BOOK: The Shadowmage Trilogy (Twilight of Kerberos: The Shadowmage Books)
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“Who are you talking about?” he asked.

“He wants to bring the Beggars’ Guild on side with us,” Wendric said.

“The beggars?” Nate said derisively.

“Nate, the beggars are eyes of this city,” Magnus said. “They are ignored by everyone, and yet they can be found in every corner of Turnitia. From the docks to the Five Markets, you will find them huddled, lost, abandoned and forgotten. But it is exactly those qualities that allow them to get close to others, to see and hear everything that goes on in the city. How many times have you left a house you have just robbed, and ignored the beggar across the street outside, happily thinking you have escaped notice? I promise you, nearly every one of your operations is known to the Beggars’ guild.”

“They actually have a guild?” Lucius asked.

“Oh, there is quite some etiquette involved in begging,” Magnus said. “And, like any industry, like us, efforts have to be organised if the maximum profit for all is to be realised. You’ve worked with our pickpocket teams, Lucius. You know how we strategise their efforts. The beggars are no different, with each assigned a rotating territory that ensures no one area is flooded with them, and no purses are drained too heavily or too quickly. And they can actually be quite vicious towards independents who break the system.”

“Do they have a guildhouse?” Elaine asked.

“The streets are their guildhouse. However, I think I know where to find their master.”

“You’re not thinking of going yourself?” Wendric asked, suddenly alarmed.

“You’d be making yourself too easy a target,” Elaine joined in. “The Guild will be waiting for something like this, one mistake that would reveal you and allow them to decapitate us.”

Magnus held up his hands. “My friends, I will not be swayed in this. We need the beggars with us, and we need them now. If one of you were to go, the negotiations might take too long. If I can locate their guildmaster, and I have a good idea where to start looking, I might be able to make the right promises and forge an alliance on the spot.”

“It is far too dangerous,” Wendric said.

“Too many of our members have already paid too high a price,” Magnus said in reply. “If I do not share the same risks, I am not fit to be guildmaster in the first place. Anyway, I’ll have Taene and Narsell with me, and I doubt there are any assassins capable of making their way past these two. If that should prove insufficient, however, I will also have Lucius at my side.”

Lucius looked up in surprise. “Of course,” he heard himself say. “I would be honoured.”

Wendric had the last words of the meeting.

“Be watchful instead.”

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

 

 

L
UCIUS HAD NEVER
felt more alive than he did at this moment. Magnus walked within a pace behind him, while Taene and Narsell brought up the rear, flanking the guildmaster. He felt his heart pounding, heard every sound in the crowded street, smelled every scent. Danger lurked in every passer-by, in every alley they passed, within every window that opened as they walked underneath, or so he felt. After the Council had broken up, Elaine had approached him, making him swear to protect Magnus from harm whatever the odds. It was a promise he intended to keep.

Lucius’ eyes flicked constantly, sweeping over every member of the crowd that thronged the street. The middle-aged woman manhandling several long Pontaine-style loaves and two children; was she disguised to appear older, her bread concealing a weapon as she moved closer? The kids, were they lookouts, gauging the guildmaster’s defences in preparation for an ambush at the next junction? Were those Vos guards intentionally flanking them? Was that a shadow on the roofline, an assassin lining up a shot with a crossbow?

More than once, he had felt Magnus’ hand on his shoulder, accompanied with an admonishment to relax or, at least calm down a degree. Magnus had taken precautions, wearing a cloak and wide-brimmed hat to disguise his appearance. To anyone casually walking past the tight, protective group, he might well have been no more than a wealthy trader or official with an exaggerated sense of self-worth. Even so, the mail shirt he wore under his cloak and leather tunic was an added insurance.

They had started their search in the Five Markets which, in Lucius’ opinion, was close to madness. The ever-shifting crowds and sheer number of potential threats seemed overwhelming, and he noticed that even Taene and Narsell seemed nervous, their eyes in a permanent suspicious squint, heads turning to face every new sound. Looming over them were the walls of the Citadel, and Lucius could all too easily imagine some guard perched on the ramparts, sighting Magnus and feeling lucky with a crossbow.

Magnus, however, insisted that this was where they start, and he made a rough kind of sense. The Five Markets were among the busiest places in the city, and it was a natural congregation point for beggars. They were, thus, the power centre of the beggars and their presumed guild, though Lucius still had doubts about the homeless being able to organise themselves to any great degree.

Insisting on approaching any beggar directly himself, Magnus was met with suspicion at first, and sometimes a subdued hostility. They all feared the beggars had already been bought by the Guild. However, Magnus was lucky enough to be recognised by one

a foul-smelling woman in the later years of her life

who had a disturbing habit of scratching at her nether regions while holding a hand out for coin. Her directions, which Magnus paid handsomely for, led them to Ring Street and a grain house that lay between the two southern markets.

Crates and empty sacks were piled outside and these had been appropriated by nearly a dozen beggars, all looking dishevelled, miserable, and without purpose. A memory triggered in Lucius’ mind, and he recalled seeing beggars gather here before. In the past, he had presumed they were the failures of the city’s lowest citizens, those whose begging had been less than successful, and were now just waiting around to die. However, if what the old woman had told Magnus was to be believed, Lucius was in fact looking at the power base of the Beggars’ Guild.

“They don’t look much,” he muttered, and felt Magnus’ hand on his shoulder again.

“That is their strength,” Magnus said. “Now, remember why we are here, and that we need their help. Beggars are outcasts, spurned by everyone, and so they expect no favours. But we must treat them with the utmost respect. Understand?”

Lucius nodded as he followed Magnus and the bodyguards as they approached the beggars. It was hard to identify some of them as men or women, but Lucius had the feeling they were a mix of both, young and old. Some slouched against piles of sacks made into makeshift beds, while others perched on top of crates. All seemed weary, and yet they regarded the entourage of thieves with guarded suspicion.

“Greetings,” Magnus began, holding up a hand.

“You’ve got no business here, sir, best you move along,” said one, a girl Lucius thought, though there was nothing feminine about her appearance.

“On the contrary, I believe there is business that would interest everyone here.”

“We’re not looking for work, so if you have a ship or wagon train that needs unloading, go find your cheap labour elsewhere.”

“You misunderstand me–”

“It’s okay, Grennar,” said one of the men sitting cross-legged on the crates. He was wreathed in rags, and Lucius had taken him for a leper, or worse. He drew back his hood to reveal a middle-aged face, dirty, unshaven, but otherwise remarkably healthy. “I think we can dispense with the deceptions this time. Magnus here is finding time rather against him at the moment. Is that not right, Magnus?”

“You know me?”

“We know everyone,” the man said with a sly smile. “That is why you are here, is it not?”

Magnus tipped his head in acknowledgement. “You have me at a disadvantage.”

“I know you are Magnus Wry, leader of the Night Hands and former lieutenant of the Thieves’ Guild of Turnitia. You already know my position among the beggars. But you may call me Sebastian.”

“I have a proposal for an alliance.”

“Of course you have,” Sebastian said, his voice warm but his eyes betraying a coldness. “Your little den of thieves stands on the brink of annihilation, and you find many powerful enemies allied against you. You, Magnus, are desperate.”

“And you are on the outside, Sebastian,” Magnus said. “The lowest of all in the city, ignored by everyone. Only I realise your true value.”

“So, we have your respect. Well, that is... nice.” The comment drew a small swell of laughter from the beggars, and Lucius saw Magnus turn to him, rolling his eyes at the contrived play between the two guildmasters.

“I can give you a great deal more than respect. Employment. Regular income. Work for all the members of your guild.”

“We already have work,” said Sebastian. “And many of my beggars are richer than many of your thieves. Show him, Grennar.”

The girl smiled up at them, revealing a set of perfect teeth, then reached to her face to pick at a boil. Lucius stomach turned in disgust, then his eyes opened wide as he saw her peel the boil off. She repeated the action several more times, then spat on a cloth and wiped the dirt away, revealing a not unattractive face. Sebastian noted Lucius’ look of surprise.

“It is all about deception,” he said. “And yes, we know you too Lucius Kane, once exile of this city, returned a gambler, now rising star among the Night Hands – whatever
that
future is worth. We know your secrets too. We have seen how you fight the men you cheat, and the... methods you employ.”

Lucius looked up at the beggar master in alarm, but kept his face neutral.

“You see, Lucius, we are not thieves or blackmailers. We have no interest in power, territory, or fame. So long as the city continues to exist, so will we. Our guild offers protection and a livelihood to the lowest, the most humble. That is why we are here, and that is the only thing we work towards.”

“We can help you,” Magnus said.

“It seems you are the one in need of help, Magnus,” said Sebastian. “Alliances, you see, are built on mutual goals. You are currently engaged in a war, one that you are losing. The bodies of your members are found every night in dark alleys, and your numbers shrink daily. And now the Vos army itself has targeted you for destruction. Why would we want any part of that? I have no wish to see my own people decimated in retaliation.”

“The risks to you would be minimal. No active operations. Just information, a regular flow. That is all.”

“The role of a spy can be the riskiest of all.”

“I suspect you already have much of the information we require,” Magnus said. “You need do little more than you do now. As you said, your guild comprises the lowest and most humble. You are all but invisible to our enemies – else they would have approached you already.”

“What makes you think they haven’t?” Sebastian asked.

“I know Loredo. I know how he thinks.”

Sebastian shrugged. “Not completely useless, then.”

“In return, I offer you ten per cent of our guild’s takings over the next five years. After that, we review the arrangement, see whether it is still beneficial to the two of us.”

Lucius stifled a sharp intake of breath. That ten per cent would cut deep into the franchise agreements within the Hands, and he could imagine plenty of thieves loath to share their ill-gotten gains with beggars.

“Plus, we can train any member of yours that wishes to become a thief,” Magnus finished.

Sebastian hooted at that, and that encouraged laughter from the rest of his entourage. “I already told you, Magnus, many of the beggars in this city are wealthier than your thieves. And I won’t have you sap my guild’s strength to bolster your own.”

“Then stop playing, Sebastian,” Magnus said, allowing impatience to creep into his voice. “What are you after? You already knew I was coming to see you, and if I did not have something you were interested in, we would not have got this far. So, what is it?”

Pursing his lips, Sebastian looked down at Magnus as if considering his options.

“The ten per cent I’ll take,” he said. “Though only for one year. You will have trouble enough keeping your thieves in line for that arrangement, and you won’t get them to agree to it for long when the danger has passed. Maybe we will continue the alliance thereafter, maybe not. It all depends on which guild earns more during that time.”

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