Chapter 2

Irnoc

The golden globe of the sun sat high in the washed out blue sky; neither a single wisp of a cloud, nor a puff of a breeze stood in the way of this molten orb. In the stifling midday heat, the very air seemed to ripple as waves of heat rose from the pale stone that made up the city. The stench of the docks, only a mile or so away, permeated the warrens. The aroma of sewage and fish entrails mixed with the smell of rotting garbage in the alley I was in as I looked for anything of any value that might have been discarded. It would have been truly nauseating if I didn’t have seven years to grow accustomed to it.

A spiny ridgeback darted out from behind the pile I was going through. Its back was covered with spiked ridges that had painful but non-lethal venom, but tasted fairly good if you were careful. I tried to dive after it, scrambling to pull my knife out of my sash, but it managed to get away. Damn not a damn thing I thought to myself, someone must have already picked this alley clean. No point in staying here. I felt the small purse in my shirt as my stomach gave a rumble, time to grab something to eat.

The streets were crowded and noisy with the constant babble of voices and moved sluggishly as the day progressed; only increasing in temperature as the stale air hardly stirred. I managed to take advantage of the slow moving crowds by slipping my fingers into a few pockets and purses, slipping a few copper bits into my own pocket, those few coins were all I could safely grab; the people in the warrens didn’t have much to steal from in any case. It was a struggle to just survive for the common folk. Everyone worked long hard hours just to keep the roof over their heads and food on their tables.

I made my way to a food cart, where the vender was selling what he claimed to be Goat Shawarma, I didn’t look too closely at the meat in the flatbread, I just handed the man his five coppers and stepped to the side. As I was about to take my first bite, I felt a strange tremor. It started in my feet and rose up my legs and through my body. Earthquake? I thought as I looked around, but no, no one seemed to notice anything. Nothing seemed to be shaking there were no worried or panicked looks in the multitude of faces in the crowd. The slight vibration I felt seemed to grow a bit as my eyes fell on a priest.

The man strode through a small pocket of clear space, no one wanted to impede a watcher of the eternal flame. His flame red robes matched his long flowing, Flickering? Hair. His hair seemed to shift between the hues of a cook fire, shifting reds, yellows and oranges. A strange lizard like creature slid through his hair, moving from one shoulder to the next. His eyes seemed to meet mine for the briefest of moments and I felt myself shudder as his eyes slid past me. I felt cold deep down in my gut, the Shawarma no longer looked even remotely appetizing. I put it in the hands of a small child, not sure if it was a boy or girl it was so covered in dirt and its clothes were so loose. The large, hunger filled eyes looked at me in gratitude, but I barely noticed. I just had to get away and hide.

I left the busy market street and slipped down a narrow alley. Dropping to my knees, I felt my heart pounding and I was breathing as though I had just run a mile in the noon heat. My head swam as I gasped for air, my fingers tingled and my stomach churned. I fell to my hands as my stomach tried to heave, I swallowed hard and just stayed there, on my hands and knees and my head hanging down, trying to breath and praying the shaking in my limbs would settle. Gradually my heart beat slowed, my breathing began to ease. My head stopped spinning and I was able to sit down, leaning my back against a wall and let the feeling of exhaustion wash over me. My day was barely started and I already felt like crawling back into my cubby, maybe stay in there for the next week or so.

After about half a candle mark or so, just sitting there with my eyes closed and breathing deep and slow, I finally felt strong enough to get back to my feet, my stomach felt hollow and my legs trembled a bit when I stood. I slowly made my way back to the street, climbed onto a crate and looked about. The priest seemed to be long gone, Galan’s hammer, I thought he would come for me right then. I knew the thought was foolish, as was my reaction. There was no way they could know who I was, or even be looking for me. The destruction of my home happened 7 years ago, it was a miracle that I survived. No one should have been able to survive that kind of blast. Besides, they weren’t even looking for me, they were after my dad. I don’t know why they would be hunting a simple scribe, or why they would blow up my home kill my mother and destroy the quiet and happy life I had, but they couldn’t be looking for me, they just couldn’t be.

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Taking a deep breath I strode back into the crowded street and made my way back to the food vender, gave him another five coppers, I only had a few left from last night, “You gona eat it this time” he asked gruffly when he handed me my Shawarma, apparently he noticed what I did with the first one. I ducked my head and nodded as I took a bite. It tasted full of pepper and I guessed it was to disguise the taste of the mystery meat; I ate it anyways, I’ve eaten far worse before and will probably eat far worse again.

As I finished my meal, I noticed a small disturbance in the crowd. A skinny girl darted through the press of people towards me. She wore a thin and threadbare shirt, stained and tattered sash and cotton pants that ended in ragged edges just below the knees, all in an indeterminate shade of tan, much like what I was wearing. “Cat what’s the rush? You ok?” I asked looking over her shoulder to see if there was any pursuit.

“Roach, I got something big. Something so big, we can live like nobility for the rest of our lives” she whispered excitedly. Her clear almond shaped rich coffee brown eyes sparkled with excitement, the sun’s bright light bringing out highlights in her thick and tangled brown hair. Streams of sweat made tracks in the dirt that covered her creamy brown skin.

I blinked and refocused on what she was saying, “Like Nobility?” I whispered back, looking around to see if anyone was listening. I saw the Shawarma vender looking at us a bit too closely. “Not here, too many eyes looking and too many ears listening”, I took Cat by the hand and took her to my Sanctuary so we could talk in privacy.

“Ok, what are you talking about, what big score?”

“I just heard early this morning, the guards at Justice Bashhar’s manor were talking to each other about how Bashhar is going to be dinning with the nobles on the heights and taking most of his household with him. It’s just going to be a few servants, slaves and a bare few Guards left behind. It will be a perfect time; we can get in and steal pretty much whatever we want, his gold, fancy clothes, and all his pretty baubles. We will be rich!” Cat crowed that last bit in excitement.

“Hold up, hold up a moment. Let me get this straight, you want to stroll into Justice Bashhar’s manor, the man who is known for bloody executions, selling anyone from the warrens into slavery that crosses his desk. This is the man you want to steal from, while he is on the heights with the rich priests and the rest of the nobility.” I asked, shaking my head. “You know he gets a cut of all profits from selling people like us to the slavers.”

Cat looked at me in the eyes, those deep rich eyes; I shook my self mentally as she said in a low fierce tone “That is why it’s perfect. That bastard doesn’t give a damn about justice, just lining his pockets. He deserves to lose what he got, selling kiddies and mums and dads, sometimes whole families when they do the tiniest things he thinks are wrong.” She had tears in those eyes now, silently sliding down her face. Her eyes were all the more fierce as they glistened with moisture.

I remembered how she joined our ranks, her parents were bakers, and failed to pay their taxes one year and were sold into slavery and shipped out to Sydan’Kulta to work in the mines, leaving Cat to survive on her own. She was eight years old at the time.

I shook my head, took a deep breath and said “you know this is crazy right”.

“That’s exactly why this will work, no one will expect it and that fat pile of camel dung, and may the fleas of a thousand dirty spitting camels infest his loin cloth. He deserves it. I’ve been waiting to give him some payback for five years now. I’m going, you can come with me or not, but I am going” there was a strong resolve showing in her eyes.

“Fine, I’ll go with you” I said with a sigh. I’ll need to go back to the den to get my gear, maybe drop an offering at the Hatha shrine for luck.” Hatha, the god of the winds is the patron of mischief, tricksters and thieves. “What’s your plan?”

“Thanks Roach, no one can get into places like you can” she gave me a fierce hug, I could feel two small but soft lumps pressing into my chest and I flushed. “Ok here is what we are going to do.”