A century ago, the graveyard had been outside the city. Haphazard growth since then meant that poorer districts now surrounded the cemetery. I could understand why the city's wealthier inhabitants preferred to live elsewhere. Something in the temple had spooked me, and I still felt a faint chill, though leaving the graveyard had helped. I was now in the Crofter district, a poor but relatively safe district. The streets were narrow, with street lamps only at intersections, though most of those were unlit. The houses were tightly packed together though most were of only one level. A few had a second floor, usually wood built over the first level of stone and mortar. Most of the residents were laborers, carters, and the like though some still farmed small strips of land outside the city walls.
Hardworking people didn't have time to bother their neighbors, and there was little here to tempt other thieves or strong arms. The watch rarely ventured here, and that was something that I could appreciate. There was nothing about me that should raise a watchman's suspicions. I wasn't dressed in black or any such nonsense. Such clothes might help during a job but were a dead giveaway afterward. My clothes were simple, and as much as I would have otherwise liked, my features were perfectly ordinary. I looked like any other worker returning late from a tavern, gambling den, or place of ill repute. My gear would give me away if I was searched, not to mention a couple of stolen candle stands in the bag slung over my shoulder. Talking about the candle stands, I needed to get rid of them before dawn. A mage with finder skills could potentially locate stolen objects though in this case, it would cost more to hire a mage than the loss was worth. Still, I preferred to get rid of stolen goods at the earliest.
Since there were no fences in the Crofter district that I knew about, I would have to go elsewhere. I could sell the candle stands to any ordinary merchant, but none would be open. I continued heading south until I hit an open sewer. There were no underground drains in the outer districts between the old city wall and the newer exterior wall. The moat was one large sewer, flushed by water from the river into which it eventually ran. These open sewers frequently marked the boundaries between the outer districts, and one could smell them well before you reached them. I walked alongside the sewer but shuddered as I sensed a whiff of something different, something I couldn't quite place in the more familiar scent of the sewer.
I looked around nervously and crossed a wooden bridge that spanned the sewer system. I quickened my steps but stopped halfway as the strange smell got stronger. I glanced around, but there was nothing moving. Yet the scent was definitely coming closer. Something made me look down into the sewer, and I saw a body float below me and under the bridge. I looked downstream and followed it till I lost sight of it. Yet even after I lost sight of it, I could still sense it getting carried along with the sewage. Undoubtedly the strange smell was linked with the corpse. But I should not have been able to smell it over the foul reek of the sewer, and the scent itself was tart and sharp, quite unlike that of a corpse. Something strange was happening, and I had no clue what it was.
I crossed the sewer into the Cartway district, where the streets started widening, and many more of the street lamps were lit. The Cartway district was just north of the main east-west thoroughfare, and there were more inns and taverns here. I passed a few folks who were swaying under the influence. It was good to see other people still out as I would attract less attention. I kept walking till I was just a couple of streets north of the thoroughfare and ducked into a narrow lane to my right where a jeweler I knew lived. Old Mugous had retired when his eyesight started failing him and now made a little money by fencing stolen goods. I'd been here before, and I knew he would take the candlesticks. As I neared his house, I placed the hood of my leather jerkin over my head. Before I knocked on his door, I felt someone was watching me. I hadn't seen anyone but didn't want to look around as that would have looked suspicious. I had to wait a minute till I could hear a flint strike stone, and a lamp came to life.
"Who's there?" asked a gruff voice as a shutter on the door opened, and a face looked out.
Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
"Got some goods for you, Mugous," I said. Deliberately not answering his question.
He grumbled about the time as he unbolted the door. I stepped in, and he shut the door but didn't bolt it.
"What'chu have for me?" he asked as I reached into my bag and got the candlesticks.
"Slim pickings, lad," he said and took out a small weighing scale. "Hmm, heavier than they look, and the silver is good," he nodded and finished his appraisal.
We haggled for a while before I finally settled for three gold pieces. I'd gotten about half of what the goods were worth, much better than expected. Most fences only pay about a quarter or third of what goods are actually worth. I'd gotten more since Mugous would undoubtedly melt the candle stands into silver, practically untraceable. For gems and jewelry, he was my preferred fence. Low profile and reliable. I pocketed the coins and was about to leave when Mugous started speaking.
"Be careful if I was you. Heard that the guilds are warring again, and blood has been shed".
That wasn't good news. There were three powerful thieves' guilds in the city, and they had well-defined domains and usually an unspoken truce. Once in a while, there would be friction as they tested each other's strength or warred for territory. It was a good time for the city's inhabitants as the crime rate would drop as the guilds hunted each other. The city watch wouldn't interfere unless it was to play one guild against the other. Independent operators like me tended to keep a low profile as we were targeted by all. I'd kept as far as I could from the guilds and didn't think they knew about me. In any case, it would be best to lay low for a while.
As I stepped out, I felt unseen eyes on me again. I hadn't been followed here, that much I was sure about, but known fences such as Mugous were often watched by the guilds during their wars. It was often possible for them to quickly take down the competition. Unspoken conventions kept violence to a minimum near a known fence's house or shop, so I was in no immediate danger, but that would change. I continued west along the lane nonchalantly and wondered whether they'd ignore me or follow. I hit a broader street and had to make a choice. Left would head towards the better lit thoroughfare, and if I headed there, my stalkers might get a good look at me. Even if I got away this night, I would find it much harder to avoid them in the future. I continued straight, hoping that they wouldn't follow, but I sensed that there were still behind me.
As I entered another lane, I heard a faint noise above me. There was someone on the rooftops. A glance behind me showed a couple of heavyset men walking openly toward me. They were obviously bruisers, strong men who lacked the skill for thieving but served as muscle for the guilds. They were dangerous but only if they caught me. The fact that they'd shown themselves indicated that they thought me trapped. It was likely that some more bruisers were ahead of me. The stalker on the rooftops was probably armed with a bow or crossbow and might take a shot at me if I stopped. Standard ambush tactics but pretty effective. Even before I saw another two bruisers ahead, I was looking for a way out of the trap. Knocking on doors was futile. Too slow, and even if some good samaritan sheltered me, I would likely be trapped again. I was unarmed, apart from a small belt knife, and didn't think I could take on either pair of bruisers. The only way was up, onto the rooftops. But which side was the stalker on, left or right. I had no time to waste, so I chose the right side and quickly clambered up the face of a nearby house.
The fact that no one had shot at me while climbing was worrying and indicated that the stalker was on the same side I'd chosen. As soon as I pulled myself onto the roof, I used my momentum to roll forward. I heard the screech of a missile pass over me. If I'd been standing, I'd have been hit. As I rose, I saw the stalker not thirty feet away. I could have tried escaping, but the stalker might well be able to keep pace with me. There was no choice but to attack him. As I moved toward him, I saw that he was winding his crossbow for another shot, and I thanked my stars he wasn't using a short bow. As soon as he saw me heading in his direction, his eyes widened, and he dropped his crossbow and started to draw a knife from a sheath on his belt. He was too slow, and I crashed into him. We struggled on the rooftop, and I cursed myself for not using my own knife. On the street below, his friends were closing in. If one of them climbed up, then I was finished.
My opponent was the better fighter, and his hands closed around my neck, squeezing hard. "Up here, I've got him," he shouted. Desperate, I drew his belt knife and kept stabbing till he dropped. Once again, I smelt that strange smell, tart and sharp. I had no time to wonder about it as I was still in trouble. I quickly wound the crossbow and loaded a bolt from the quiver strapped on the dead stalker's thigh. I could hear one of the bruisers climbing up, though he wasn't finding it easy. Without aiming, I looked over the parapet and shot at him. The bolt just missed him, but he fell back in shock. I could hear them cursing as I reloaded, but they weren't trying to climb up. The standoff wouldn't last, so I noiselessly padded off along the rooftops and into the night.