Philos objected constantly, but Ralan had a very specific reason for wandering through the streets and walking into the pubs and inns in the Old Quarter. Philos and everyone else thought it was to be welcoming to the Harvest Guild members, to explain to them one-on-one that the Thieves were not evil but were actually the ones who helped the most in Ness.

But that was not the reason he was in the open, walking the streets, and being irresponsibly accessible. And it was irresponsible in many ways—Philos had to intervene a few times when an angry Harvest Guild member accosted Ralan for causing all the problems due to his interference at the Founders Day Banquet. But Ralan had to do it, and as he wandered through the square in the Old Quarter, feeling more and more like Pietro of old and yet despairing that he would achieve his aim, his efforts finally bore fruit.

As the pale man with blonde, almost white hair, approached, Ralan smiled and said, “I had expected you before now.” Turning to Philos, Ralan said, “Let him close.” Philos knew better than to object.

The Outlander shrugged. “We have our own plans.”

“Of course. I hope that you have sent Lord Wilhelm my best.”

“It is your best that worries us. It does not appear to be good enough.”

Ralan was often considered arrogant, but he didn’t feel that way. He simply enjoyed standing up to authority. This Outlander, however, he was arrogant. “Indeed. What if I were to admit my weakness, to admit that I have lost control of Ness. The future of the trade routes is not only in jeopardy but are an impossibility.”

For the first time, the Outlander looked unsure of himself. “They are required to be open. Our patience is at an end.”

“That is not a threat. Nor is it a plan. That is a plea,” Ralan said, turning up the intensity of the discussion.

“It is not a plea!” The Hand of Wilhelm appeared upset for the first time. Ralan shrugged. “We will take action.”

Ralan waved his hand toward the Wall. “Please. Quinto’s forces continue to easily hold you back.” Ralan knew that was a lie, as the Outlanders were getting closer and closer to the Outer Fields, but his lie served its purpose.

“Are you mocking us? The heir of Pietro dares to mock Lord Wilhelm?” the Hand was visibly angry at that point.

Raising his hands, Ralan said, “Hold, Hand. I simply point out that we should work together. As you happily have pointed out, I have lost control of Ness. In resolving this, I need Lord Wilhelm’s help. Yet Lord Wilhelm has had his own difficulties. I propose that we work together.”

The Hand of Lord Wilhelm peered at Ralan. “What do you have in mind?”

“It will require restraint.”

“We are known for our restraint.” The Hand was transfixed with Ralan’s unspoken plan.

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“I propose that Lord Wilhelm launch a small but significant attack on the Foothills. It will draw Quinto’s forces south. You would then launch a larger attack at the Outer Fields. This will draw Saxe’s Knights from the city. You should not aim for victory or raiding the stores of the Outer Fields. You are to keep Saxe occupied for as long as you can.”

The Hand replied, “And what if we decide that we want the Outer Fields?”

“I will tell Quinto of our plan and he will reinforce Saxe if it goes amiss.”

“Quinto would not support such a plan. You would also not do that as it would reveal you as a traitor.”

Ralan shrugged. “And then I would reveal your defenses and the truth of Gaotteland’s dangerously low food stores, unleashing Saxe to attack you directly.”

“You would not do that,” the Hand replied, his voice slightly strained. Ralan shrugged yet again.

“I need a distraction. Immediately. I need it for days, but weeks would be better. Achieve that, and the future of Gaotteland will be assured.” Turning to Philos, Ralan said, “We are done.”

Philos grabbed the Outlander and shoved him away from Ralan, nearly causing the man to stumble to the ground.

As he returned to the Tower later in the day, Philos finally got up the courage to confront Ralan. “That is treason if it doesn’t work.” Ralan wasn’t offended. He knew that Philos was simply reminding Ralan of the consequences.

“It will work.”

Philos was quiet for a few moments, and then added, “So what are the next steps?”

“I need to visit Captain Jesser of the Rangers.” Before Philos could say anything, Ralan added, “Alone.”

As Ralan made his way up to his quarters he didn’t know what would happen. He was at least happy that he had two successful scenarios: One was Polo rejecting Orion and Keres’ outreach and creating a continuation of the percolating civil war that had not quite arrived yet. The other was the Outlanders attacking Ness, splitting Saxe from Orion, and giving the Thieves some breathing room to find a way to talk to Polo and plan a path forward. Ralan didn’t want to think of what would happen if neither happened.

As he climbed the stairs, Ralan decided to stop in the library. Raef had been acting oddly since he had returned with Pietro’s books. Ralan would wander in and say, “Have you discovered anything yet?” and Raef would wave Ralan off, not even replying.

Raef was obsessing over something, and Ralan hoped it was something helpful and not a history of guildmaster jewelry. He walked in, and as he expected, Raef had his face buried in a book. It was large with hundreds of pages. Raef looked to be halfway through it.

“Find out anything interesting?”

Raef looked up, and for the first time Ralan truly grasped how obsessive Raef must have been. He was thin, and his eyes were red and bloodshot His hair was greasy and Ralan doubted that Raef had even bathed lately.

“By the gods, Raef, you need to take a break. Look at yourself. These books will kill you!”

“What?” Raef looked down at his body and back up. “Oh. I was going to stop when I was done, but I keep uncovering things.” Raef’s eyes lit up. “You will not believe what I’ve discovered!”

Ralan walked over and sat at the large table. It was covered in books. “Well, you’ve been mighty secretive lately.”

“I just didn’t want to give you pieces. Tell you a tantalizing bit, and then have you ask me questions I couldn’t answer. But I have a good grasp of our guild’s history now.”

“That’s wonderful. So, tell me something I didn’t know.”

Raef pointed to Ralan’s ring with the seal of the Guildmaster Thief, then he pointed to a drawing in book to his side. “Look familiar?”

Ralan looked at the drawing. “Yes. That is my seal, but why is it red?”

Raef smiled. “Because it is the seal of the Magic Guild.”

Ralan looked at his ring. “But my seal is black.”

“That’s because you haven’t taken your rightful place yet. That seal has been lying dormant for centuries.”

“What are you talking about?” Ralan asked, somewhat exasperated at Raef talking in clues.

“It is the seal of the Magic Guild.” Raef smiled. “And it will blaze red when you speak the oath of the Guildmaster Magic.”

END OF BOOK TWO