Thieves of Islar: Book One of The Heirs of Bormeer by James Shade Page B
Authors: James Shade
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constancy.
Gerlido’s mouth twitched. Which leaves the problem at hand. In order to move that plan along, Gerlido had hoped to have the city's silver industry under his control. If the information he had purchased concerning a letter and jewelry proving an illicit affair between deLespan's son and Kadene Witaasen were true, he could accomplish this. He just had not expected interference from Henri deAlto.
“Spit it out, Sukul,” Gerlido snapped.
“Yes, sir,” Sukul nodded. “The old man is dead. Wasn’t our fault. He put up a fight. Started a fire that looked to take the whole apartment and we had to leave.”
“And the jewelry?” the guildmaster asked.
“He didn’t have it. Maybe we had the wrong information,” Sukul said.
“The information is correct. DeAlto’s whelps just hadn’t brought it home yet.”
Gerlido closed his eyes and analyzed the situation again. He could not believe that deAlto had tried to form his own guild. He had warned the man once before about poking his nose too far into the business of the thieves of Islar.
Gerlido’s guild, the Black Fangs, had just made second rung status in Islar when deAlto began using favors and bribes to solicit information about them. Gerlido was only a fortnight out from giving unsanctioned orders for the murder of a one-time associate. He did not need the additional attention. He had sent Henri a message of a very physical nature. He thought the man had listened when he disappeared into the cracks of the city.
Occasionally, the guildmaster would hear that “old man deAlto” was using one of his contacts, had been seen purchasing some specialized equipment, or that he had taken an odd job below the level of a guild’s notice. Gerlido brushed it off as deAlto’s need to feed and clothe the street orphans the man had been stupid enough to take in.
Apparently, the orphans were thieves-in-training. Rather than recruit guild members, deAlto had simply raised them as his children. The eldest was rumored to be a swordsman and the middle child, a girl, had some talent in forgery. He knew the least about the youngest, though he had personally observed him gambling and flirting with the wenches at the Crooked Window.
The economics of it made no sense to Gerlido. It was easier, faster, and cheaper to pull in trained, or half-trained, talent from the streets. Moreover, it did not involve the unpleasant emotional entanglements of family. Gerlido’s assessment was that deAlto had engaged in training these orphans in a manner similar to the way he had conducted his life. A carelessly planned and messily executed existence. Though that existence is causing me some inconvenience at the moment.
The guildmaster felt a twinge of the dark rage inside him start to build and he willfully forced it back down. When he heard about the lost jewelry, Gerlido knew that he had an easy way to retrieve it. He maintained a spy in most of the other guilds, including some of the third rung guilds that showed promise. He simply contacted his agent in the Dockpads and asked him to pick up the package at his earliest opportunity. But the fool had given himself food poisoning last night eating raw oysters. Oysters! He willed himself to move on. He would determine a suitable punishment for that later.
As to his competition, it had been easy to determine where the job would go. The situation with the jewelry had been spilled to Ardo Tabbil, an old and ineffectual fence. He would take the opportunity to only one person, his trusted friend Henri.
Well, Henri is no longer a problem. The question is how much of a problem are deAlto’s children going to be?
“Find the children and retrieve the jewelry case,” Gerlido told his men. “Attract as little attention as possible.”
Gerlido hoped that even Brale would understand that meant no killing unless it was absolutely necessary.
Twelve
C hazd approached the Talica Bridge through the alleyway behind Talica Park, a fence
Gerlido’s mouth twitched. Which leaves the problem at hand. In order to move that plan along, Gerlido had hoped to have the city's silver industry under his control. If the information he had purchased concerning a letter and jewelry proving an illicit affair between deLespan's son and Kadene Witaasen were true, he could accomplish this. He just had not expected interference from Henri deAlto.
“Spit it out, Sukul,” Gerlido snapped.
“Yes, sir,” Sukul nodded. “The old man is dead. Wasn’t our fault. He put up a fight. Started a fire that looked to take the whole apartment and we had to leave.”
“And the jewelry?” the guildmaster asked.
“He didn’t have it. Maybe we had the wrong information,” Sukul said.
“The information is correct. DeAlto’s whelps just hadn’t brought it home yet.”
Gerlido closed his eyes and analyzed the situation again. He could not believe that deAlto had tried to form his own guild. He had warned the man once before about poking his nose too far into the business of the thieves of Islar.
Gerlido’s guild, the Black Fangs, had just made second rung status in Islar when deAlto began using favors and bribes to solicit information about them. Gerlido was only a fortnight out from giving unsanctioned orders for the murder of a one-time associate. He did not need the additional attention. He had sent Henri a message of a very physical nature. He thought the man had listened when he disappeared into the cracks of the city.
Occasionally, the guildmaster would hear that “old man deAlto” was using one of his contacts, had been seen purchasing some specialized equipment, or that he had taken an odd job below the level of a guild’s notice. Gerlido brushed it off as deAlto’s need to feed and clothe the street orphans the man had been stupid enough to take in.
Apparently, the orphans were thieves-in-training. Rather than recruit guild members, deAlto had simply raised them as his children. The eldest was rumored to be a swordsman and the middle child, a girl, had some talent in forgery. He knew the least about the youngest, though he had personally observed him gambling and flirting with the wenches at the Crooked Window.
The economics of it made no sense to Gerlido. It was easier, faster, and cheaper to pull in trained, or half-trained, talent from the streets. Moreover, it did not involve the unpleasant emotional entanglements of family. Gerlido’s assessment was that deAlto had engaged in training these orphans in a manner similar to the way he had conducted his life. A carelessly planned and messily executed existence. Though that existence is causing me some inconvenience at the moment.
The guildmaster felt a twinge of the dark rage inside him start to build and he willfully forced it back down. When he heard about the lost jewelry, Gerlido knew that he had an easy way to retrieve it. He maintained a spy in most of the other guilds, including some of the third rung guilds that showed promise. He simply contacted his agent in the Dockpads and asked him to pick up the package at his earliest opportunity. But the fool had given himself food poisoning last night eating raw oysters. Oysters! He willed himself to move on. He would determine a suitable punishment for that later.
As to his competition, it had been easy to determine where the job would go. The situation with the jewelry had been spilled to Ardo Tabbil, an old and ineffectual fence. He would take the opportunity to only one person, his trusted friend Henri.
Well, Henri is no longer a problem. The question is how much of a problem are deAlto’s children going to be?
“Find the children and retrieve the jewelry case,” Gerlido told his men. “Attract as little attention as possible.”
Gerlido hoped that even Brale would understand that meant no killing unless it was absolutely necessary.
Twelve
C hazd approached the Talica Bridge through the alleyway behind Talica Park, a fence
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