Chapter 1

The guard stood by the gate-house, his breath emerging from his mouth into the cold night air in periodic gusts of vapour. In his right hand he held a sword, which shone brightly in the light of the moon, and whose point reflected the flame of the solitary torch that flickered next to him. He wore a coat of chain-mail, with a fabric coat over it, and a helmet over his head. They were obviously heavy, for he continually shifted his weight between his feet, and sometimes rested the tip of the long sword on the ground. Or maybe he was bored instead. Garrett, from his hiding place in the shadows across the street, could hear him muttering something under his breath, something about a guard who should have relieved him several hours ago.

The gate-house the guard stood by was built in the typical style of the City: a medium sized stone structure, with crenelated tops, and small archers' slits in the walls. However, there was no light behind the slits, and no figures with bows patrolled the tops of the walls. The man who owned this small mansion was not wealthy enough to hire many guards: according to Garret's information the house only contained three guards, and the occupant.

On the front of this gate-house hung a banner, a green carpet of cloth upon which was woven a stylised T. The T was a symbol of the Lord Tanner, a small nobleman who was one of the lesser classes of nobles that lived in the City. By all accounts his father had been a successful builder, one responsible for the construction of some of the greatest landmarks of the City, and the house in which his son now resided was in that time merely a guest house. However, then the Hammers had taken notice, and the father could not compete with the Hammerites' unique combination of building skill, and justified violence. Lord Tanner's father was a lay builder, a profession that the Hammerites saw as an anachronism, a mocking of the Builder's word. When the Hammers had finished with the poor man, all that remained was the guest house, and a small amount of money that he and his family had managed to escape from their house with.

Now Lord Tanner lived there, alone apart from his guards, with chest of money that no-one had reported to have been paid from. However, Garrett needed this job for more than just the money. He had been fleeced on his last few jobs, and had decided that it was time to make an acquaintance with a fence who would get a decent price for him. He had found one, named Cutty, but Cutty would only take Garrett on if he had evidence of his skill. Lord Tanner's money was reportedly stamped with the name of his departed father. It would be a fitting catch. He could always spend the money if Cutty turned him down.

The guard was still muttering, periodically turning round to glance at the heavy wooden door behind him. Deciding to make a move, before a Hammerite night watchman found him, Garrett waited until the guard had turned away, then quietly crossed the street. He melted into the shadows by the gatehouse as the guard turned round to view the silent streets. Garrett knelt, and felt in the gutter of the street for a suitable distraction. His hand touched a glass bottle, the cork missing and the paper falling off with damp. Holding it in his palm, he drew back his arm, and then threw it forward, releasing the bottle. It impacted in the shadows across the street where Garrett had previously been hiding. The bottle splintered with a crash, and the guards head jerked up. He raised his sword and peered into the darkness. Slowly he advanced forward, sword held at the ready, and his eyes searching the streets. Reaching the bottle, he knelt down and picked it up. Suddenly he heard the wooden door at the gate-house shut. He whipped around, but there was no-one there. The streets were as silent as they had been since he had come on duty after dinner. Looking around thoughtfully, he shrugged his shoulders, dropped the broken neck of the wine bottle, and walked back to his post, dismissing the broken shards of the bottle as having fallen from the window of one of the houses. People left their windows open sometimes, even in this weather and with the threat of thieves, and doubtless they must have placed the bottle there when they went to bed. The rustle of wind he had heard must have knocked it off from there.

Inside the gate-house, Garrett leaned against the door and breathed deeply. It would have been possible to knock the guard out, but he had only just bought a blackjack, and was reluctant to use it before he knew how to. Straightening up, he walked over the stone floor to a convenient shadow, and examined his surroundings. He was in a long hall, that stretched down to an atrium in the centre of the house. The hall was stone, except for the wooden roof, and was decorated with tapestries hung on the walls. They were obviously designed to impress any visitor that visited at the height of the family fortune, but now they were faded and threadbare, and some were ripped and torn. Every so often there was a torch attached to the wall with decorated fixings, but the brass fittings were tarnished and dirty, and some of the torches were out. Garrett smiled to himself. This was going to be easy.

He silently crept down the hall, sticking to the shadows, and pausing before he left them. A corridor bisected it at the end of the hall before the atrium, and appeared to continue round the other side of the atrium. This one was brightly lit, with wooden doors at intervals, and a plush carpet down the middle of the stone floor. Garrett paused to listen. His caution was rewarded. A guard came round the corner, his footsteps inaudible, his sword held by his side as he whistled a Hammerite hymn. Obviously Lord Tanner didn't hold any grudges, or if he did he wasn't picky about those who he hired to work for him.

Once the guard had left, Garrett emerged from the shadows, and turned left into the corridor. He walked on the carpet, his footsteps as inaudible as the guards, his ears pricked up for any sound that could signal the guard's return. Coming to a door, he opened it and walked in, then closed it gently behind him. The latch clicked, and then Garrett turned to look at the room. It was a dining room of some sort, small but grandly furnished. The room was decorated with expensive wallpaper, the floor with a carpet that only the rich are accustomed to. In the centre of the room was a large wooden table, while around it were chairs that seemed, in the dim light, to have been newly upholstered. Garrett clicked his tongue in consternation. Lord Tanner had obviously been spending some of his hoard recently. There might not be much left. The thief looked around the room for any valuables, but the place was devoid of any loot, and the table was covered only with a table cloth.

Garrett walked back to the door, and then suddenly froze as he heard the footsteps of the guard on his patrol. The footsteps became louder, and then quieter as the man moved away. When the coast was clear, Garrett opened the door, and glided out. He moved over to the carpet, and carried on to the next door. The room behind it was just as disappointing as the first. The only valuables were stuck to the walls, or covering the cushions of the sofas and armchairs that were arranged around the room.

However, the next room was far more rewarding. Garrett opened the door, and gently closed it behind him. He had found the kitchen, a room with a large, cold fireplace against one wall, and assorted shelves loaded with canisters of seasonings. All along the walls were waist-high work surfaces on which tools were scattered around, while below them were closed cupboards. Moving through the room, a glint of glass caught Garrett's eye, and he stooped by the counter to find a rack of wine bottles, all of rare vintages. For someone who could not afford to replace the tapestries in his front hall, or hire decent guards, Lord Tanner was living suspiciously well.

Suddenly there was the sound of footsteps on the floor above him. Garrett looked up in alarm, but when nothing more was heard he dismissed it as the unaware Lord Tanner getting up for a visit to the privy. He bent down again, and pulled a bottle of wine from its rack. It was indeed a rare vintage, one that it was said the Baron only drank on special occasions, and used to toast the Builder when attending a Hammerite ceremony. Garrett smiled, and silently placed it in the folds of his cloak. This would fetch a fair price, fence or no fence.

He was reaching for another bottle when he was pulled up short by the sound of a conversation outside the door of the kitchen. As his instincts rushed him into a shadow, the door opened, and two guards walked in, the one from the corridor and a new one. The new one walked over to the rack of wines, muttering to himself at the Sir's need for a nightcap at this hour. He took a glass from the counter, and then bent over to search the wine rack. Garrett did not dare to breath as the guard's gaze swept up and down the rack, and his brow narrowed in his search for the missing bottle. The other guard also grew impatient, and began tapping his foot in annoyance. Finally the new guard straightened up, and looked around in search of the bottle.

Maybe it was the light, or the location, but whatever the reason, the guard suddenly lifted his sword and began to advance towards the thief in the shadows. Garrett fumbled in the folds of his cloak for a weapon, and the movement attracted the attention of the other guard, who also raised his sword. The thief withdrew from his cloak a small round device, with a large eye, and a small red button. Garrett was reluctant to use the flashbomb, but realised that this was the only he was going to get out of the mansion with both his skin and any loot there was left. He jabbed his thumb down on the button, then threw it on the floor, while he brought the other arm up to shield his eyes.

The flashbomb exploded in a brilliant flash of light, and the guards screamed in pain. Garrett delved into his cloak and produced the blackjack, which he raised high over his head, and then swung down on the skull of the new guard. He cried out, then slipped unconscious to the floor. The other guard, realising that something was amiss, waved his sword weakly in front of him while his hands clawed at his eyes. However, it was child's play for Garrett to evade the ineffectual strokes, slip under the guard's blade, and bring down the lead weighted club on his head. The guard crumpled, his blade dropping on the floor with a clang as he fell backward unconscious.

Garrett stood silent, surrounded by his fallen adversaries. He listened for perhaps ten minutes, but there was still no reaction. Maybe the Lord had fallen asleep without the night-cap, he thought, and smiled to himself as he breathed a sigh of relief. However, the business of disposing of the bodies still remained. There was no convenient cellar or well to dump them in, and there was no way he could drag the bodies to the streets. In the end, he settled for tying the bodies up with cords made from a ripped up tablecloth, and gagging them with the same material. Leaving them in the darkest corner of the room, he offered up a mental prayer to the Watchman, the god of thieves, that they not wake, and then knelt by the wine rack. There was no way he could carry all of them, so he settled for the few that his scarce knowledge of fine wines told him would be valuable.

Finished with the kitchen, Garrett rose, and left the way he came. Continuing round the corridor he passed the other end of the atrium, and saw a flight of stairs leading up to the second floor of the mansion. However, he ignored it for the moment, anxious to search the remainder of the floor. His search was rewarded when he stumbled across the guard's barracks. All of the other rooms contained no removable valuables, but in a chest in the barracks he found a pouch of coins that would make the trip worthwhile, even without any other loot. The barracks presented a startling contrast to the rest of the house, the bare stone walls and wooden floor seeming of an entirely different character.

Once finished with the first floor, Garrett embarked on the most important part of his mission. Although the wine was remarkably valuable, he wanted proof to show to Cutty that he had been inside the house, and that could only be obtained with the gold. The stairs that led up to the next floor were stone, and possessed no carpet to muffle his footsteps. He took them carefully, pausing every time he made a sound to check for a reaction. However, the whole house was silent. At the top of the stairs, the stone changed to wood, and the carpet began again. This part of the house was dark, with no crackling of torches to mask any errant footfalls. Then again, the absence of torches meant that there were more shadows to hide in. The carpet in this part of the house was far superior to any Garrett had encountered in the first floor, and the walls were decorated with the same expensive wallpaper used in the rooms below. The ceilings were of carved wood, intricate spiral patterns that looped and dove beneath each other. Garrett was worried by this. This type of decoration cost money, and lots of it. More than would be available to the son of a lord, who had fled his burning house with only as much money as he could carry. This sort of revelation was uncomforting, especially in a man who hated suprises.

However, Garrett pressed on, his footfalls unheard on the plush carpet. He paused at a door, and listened at it intently. When he was sure there was nobody inside, he pushed it open. Inside the room was richly decorated, with silver birchwood furniture, inlaid with pearline and onyx. The bed was made with expensive sheets, and the table beside it was carved with engravings of such delicacy that it seemed a mere breath of wind would break them. Garrett stepped over to the cupboard, a large construction about as tall as he was, and covered with exquisite artwork. He gently pulled open the doors, only to reveal an empty interior, with a single rail on which to hang clothes. He searched the rest of the room, but it seemed that whatever wealth existed here could only be carried away with the help of several men and a burrick. The bed alone would have needed two burricks to transport it, three if they were old and weak.

He gently withdrew from the room, and went over to the other side of the corridor. The room there was decorated to match the furniture, this time pieces made of weirwood with copper embellishing and ink-and-glaze cracquadare varnish. The effect was overwhelming, but once again it soon became apparent that any loot here would be leaving in pieces, or with the aid of a burrick.

As Garrett exited the room he saw at the end of the hallway a door that stood alone in the wall. Striding over to it, he leant over to listen through the wood. When he heard nothing he cautiously gripped the iron handle, and slowly pushed down. The latch clicked, and the door swung open at his push. The room before him was incredible. The designer had melded both elements of the other two rooms, to create an effect that was nothing short of incredible. The contrasts reinforced each other, and the wood's gleam told of hours of polishing and labour. The furniture also combined elements of the previous two rooms, and the bed, the centrepiece of the room, was like an island in a sea of plush blue carpet. The room was about 40 feet by 20 feet, with a high ceiling from which hung gleaming brass lamps. These were lit, and cast a warm glow over the room, while the richly decorated tapestries became alive with the reflected flames of the fire burning in its grate on one wall.

However, Garrett's attention was immediately drawn to the large central window, which seemed to open onto a balcony. The window was open, and the wind from outside made the draperies flap and the fire flicker. He strode to the balcony, and looked out at the darkened city skyline. Suddenly, a shape appeared on the roof of the house opposite. A silhouette of a man in a night-shirt, the figure turned round to stare at the open window, and then dropped down out of sight.

Garrett turned back from the window, his heart quickening in panic. Lord Tanner must have heard the noise of his encounter with the guards, and fled from the house. The figure Garrett had seen must have been the escaping Lord. He must have gone to summon help, and Garrett only had a little time before the Hammerites and the City Guard came down on him. However, he had not come all this way for nothing, and he resolved to take something with him, to pay the rent if nothing else. He stepped back in the room, and began to examine it. The cupboards or a safe hidden somewhere were the only places where any loot could be. He began to make a cautious circuit, but still nothing came to light.

However, his attention was continually drawn to a section of wall next to the fireplace, against what was presumably empty attic space. Walking over to the wall, Garrett could just make out the outline of a hidden door, its hinges concealed in the decorative ornamentation that covered the room. Taking a deep breath, he placed his hand on the door and pushed gently. To his relief, the section of the wall suddenly swung away, with a minimum of fuss, to reveal a small, plain room, with a desk and a pile of chests. He stepped in, ducking under the small doorway, and made his way to the desk. It was empty, except for a single sheet of paper. Garrett picked it up, and held it close to his eyes:

Lord Tanner
Needless to say, I am most pleased with your acquisition of the miniature silver birchwood treasure box. As you are well aware, I dislike using the Downwinders in tasks of such delicacy, but I realise that you believed they are the only group capable of such a feat. I require your assurance that they are no aware of my involvement, or the ownership of 'Grimworth and de Perrin'. The place was formerly well guarded, and I am satisfied that Ramirez is no longer able to avail himself of their services in times of need.

However, I am also disappointed that the Guild was unable to reach the place in time to obtain the sceptre. As you know, I desire all valuable antiquities, and the sale of the sceptre to Lord Bafford places me in a difficult situation. I am reluctant to steal again from yet another one of Ramirez's people, but the situation may demand another use of the Downwinders' skills. Please provide them with the details that will allow them to complete the job, and at no point reveal that 'Grimworth and de Perrin' belong to Ramirez. I have enough problems without the Downwinders being angry at being tricked into stealing from their boss's company. If they are reluctant to take the job I recommend that you remind them of the unfortunate arrest of one of their number. Subtlety is more suited to these circumstances than brute force would be.

I am relying on your abilities to ensure that the final stage of my plan is completed satisfactorily. You have been adequately rewarded thus far; do not make me regret this. If there are any questions meet me personally at my place in Oldbridge.

Larnseng, Warden of OldBridge and CityGate