06 - Rule of Thieves Read online

  I backed away from the smoldering heap. There was something wrong with this scene. Skeltai raids were often deadly for woods folk but this time the attackers had been the victims. It couldn’t have been a farmer and his family that fended them off.

  But who else in these parts was capable of such defense? I wasn’t sure I wanted to meet them. Not alone, anyway.

  I had a sudden impatience to be away from here. It was growing more important by the moment that I find my outlaw companions and learn what had been happening during my absence from the province. Clearly, we had bigger troubles to worry about than the unknown enemy bent on my personal destruction.

  Chapter Two

  If returning to Dimmingwood felt like coming home, revisiting Red Rock camp was like stepping into my own yard. This was where I had spent half my childhood, both in the clearing near the pool and in the red cave with the roaring waterfall tumbling down its side. The place looked abandoned now. But if I had been drawn back to it, others might be as well. If they ventured here occasionally, they would have left some sign of fresh activity.

  Failing to find anything in the clearing, I entered the cave itself. The dim, red-walled interior brought back a rush of memories as I was enveloped in the shadows. Here it was that Brig had brought me for safety during that long ago day when I had first encountered the outlaws. Out in the sunlit clearing behind me, I had caught my first sight of the infamous brigand captain, Rideon, the Red Hand.

  Once, Rideon had seemed a hero to me. He had even given me my name when I could not remember the one I had been born with. More recently, he had become an enemy and threatened my life. Yet my feelings toward him would always be dominated by my childhood view, when he had been all that I dreamed of becoming myself one day. Remembering that he had been dangling from the end of a rope when last I saw him gave me a sense that a shadow had fallen over the old life.

  Shaking away the disturbing thought, I ducked into the small area where I used to sleep. The ceiling was lower than I remembered. Here I used to stretch a hand through the opening in the rock and feel the cool splash of the falls on hot summer nights. Here I had once hid the brooch my mother gave me inside a hidden niche in the wall.

  I slipped a hand into the stone niche now. Of course it was empty. I wore the brooch pinned to my cloak and had long since emptied the hiding place of any other valuables.

  I continued my inspection of the caverns, but nowhere did I find any indication of recent disturbance. If outlaws had been here, they had left no evidence of their visit.

  Exiting the cave, I decided to put Red Rock behind me and try Boulder’s Cradle next. It would be another abandoned place, but I had to start somewhere.

  I had just left the roar of the falls in the distance when I felt it. The familiar tingling sense warning me of another presence. Someone was watching me. Two someones, in fact.

  Nearby, a bird call split the silence of the woods. I knew that signal, long used by the forest outlaws. One of my hidden observers was telling his partner to hold off and let him attack first. The branches of an elder tree shivered overhead, and knowing what was coming, I instinctively rolled aside in time to avoid the dark shape dropping down from above. Without me in the expected place to break her fall, the girl landed hard in a crouched position. Not fazed for long, she faced me with a dagger ready in her hand.

  I met her hard gaze with the point of an arrow, hastily nocked and aimed between her eyes.

  “There’s no need for this.” I raised my voice for the benefit of her partner. Wherever he was, I imagined he had an arrow similarly trained on me. “I’m one of you,” I said. “I’ve been away awhile, but I’ve come back and am looking for Dradac. I know he took the band over after Rideon.”

  The female outlaw looked at me with suspicion. She was young, maybe only a little older than me, with sandy-blond hair. Streaks of dark mud camouflaged her clothing and skin. I didn’t know her, so she must be a newer recruit.

  “How do we know you’re not working with the Praetor’s Fists? Or with the barbarian raiders?”

  “Because if I was, I’d have killed you by now. If you doubt me, take me to the new camp where there’ll be many to vouch for me.”

  “That won’t be needed. I know who you are.” A second outlaw interrupted her, a tall, wide-shouldered man emerging from his hiding place in the bushes. “We used to call you the Hound, but you looked different back then. Skinnier and silver-haired. You’ve grown up.”

  “And found it necessary to disguise my appearance,” I explained. “You’re Marik, aren’t you?”

  I didn’t know him well but vaguely recognized him as a thief who used to stay up at Mole Hill in the old days when our band was divided.

  “That I am, and this here’s Fallon.” He introduced the girl. “We can take you to Dradac, like you ask. But if he says you’re not a friend of ours anymore, of course you realize we’ll have to slit your throat.”

  “Understandable,” I agreed.

  “And there’ll be other precautions. You’ve been away a long time. A lot can change in a year.”

  “You mean I could be the Praetor’s creature now and prepared to sell out my friends to gain his favor,” I said.

  He had a point. My allegiances these days were anybody’s guess. Even I barely knew them anymore. The Dimmingwood outlaws hadn’t survived all these years by being incautious.

  I surrendered my weapons to the scowling blond girl and allowed myself to be blindfolded and led away.

  Dead Man’s Fall was a good choice of location for the new camp. It overhung a swift stream where fresh water would always be on hand, and the outcropping of big rocks offered a little protection from the elements. It wasn’t as cozy as the caves of Red Rock or Boulder’s Cradle, but at least the outlaws had dug out shelters beneath the largest boulders and extended the fronts with pine-bough screens.

  I was glad my escorts removed my blindfold when we overlooked the creek in its ravine, because it took careful maneuvering to ascend the steep incline to the rocks below. I followed the others’ leads, leaping from one sturdy foothold to the next and occasionally catching one of the leaning trees growing out of the hillside to steady myself.

  I caught sight of Dradac seated nearby on a fallen log, where he was busily whittling at something with a belt knife. I felt an unexpected tug in my chest. If I needed any confirmation that I’d been homesick over the past year, this was it. The redheaded giant had been one of the first outlaws to befriend me when I came to live in the forest many years ago. Next to Brig, and later Terrac, Dradac had known me better than anyone.

  Marik called out to him as we approached. When Dradac looked up to see me, surprise crossed his face, swiftly followed by a broad grin. He ran to meet us. I briefly thought he meant to lift me off the ground in a hug. It wouldn’t be hard to do since he stood a couple of feet taller than ordinary people. But perhaps remembering at the last moment that I wasn’t a small child anymore, he merely rested a welcoming hand on my shoulder instead.

  “So you’ve come back to us, have you, Little Dog?” he asked warmly. “I thought your travels out in the big world might make Dimmingwood too small to hold you anymore.”

  “I saw nothing from the provincial border to the coast to compare with home,” I said, meaning it. “Besides, I had commitments to bring me back.”

  That was dangerously close to mentioning the Praetor, whose service I had been pressed into a year ago, so I changed the subject quickly. “I see Dead Man’s Fall is the new Red Rock,” I said, looking around me.

  “So it has been since you left,” Dradac answered. “Would you like me to show you around? There’s a few folk here who’ll be glad to see you. Javen, Ada, and others speak of you often.”

  “First, you might have to reassure this pair that I’m trustworthy.” I jerked my head toward my escorts hovering nearby. “I introduced myself real polite when they jumped me, but I have a feeling the girl still wants to stick a knife in me.”

  “Nah,
Fallon looks that way all the time,” he reassured me. “It’s only when she’s smiling you’ve got to watch yourself.”

  At his nod, Marik and Fallon faded into the trees, the blond girl shooting me one last warning scowl before disappearing.

  “Our little band of criminal outcasts has shrunk since Rideon’s death,” said Dradac as he walked me around the camp. “A few newcomers like Fallon have taken the place of some who left, but our numbers aren’t what they used to be.”

  “Why is that? It’s not as if they were left leaderless.”

  The big man shrugged broad shoulders. “I’ve done my best, but I’m no Red Hand. He had a way of drawing people in and making them stay. But we took losses during the Skeltai war. Despite the Praetor’s promise of pardon, he never made good on that agreement for any outlaw but you. For the rest of us, our alliance with the Praetor ended with the war and Rideon’s hanging. After that, some of our people drifted away.” His tone lightened. “But not to worry. You’ll still see plenty of familiar face to welcome you.”

  He was right. Many outlaws stopped their work around the camp and came over to greet me in passing. It was good to see I hadn’t been forgotten. I talked with old friends and admired the setup of their new camp. But I didn’t suggest any improvements. There was a time at the height of the Skeltai skirmishes when some of these men had been part of my inner circle and had looked to me as a leader. But Dradac was the captain of this ship now, and I was careful to show that I wouldn’t have it any other way.

  “So, are you really back for good?” the giant asked when we were finally alone. He had brought me into the semishelter of a vast, leaning rock with a flimsy wall of netting covered in leaves.

  “Yes and no,” I said, taking a seat cross-legged on the ground. “I’m in the province permanently, but I cannot stay in Dimmingwood. At least, not right now.”

  It was a question I had been trying not to consider. It was so good to be back in old company that I found myself reluctant to introduce the tense topic. But I had to.

  I said, “The Praetor treated the outlaws poorly after our help fighting the Skeltai.”

  “That’s an understatement.” Dradac snorted. “He turned his back on our alliance and returned to hunting and hanging us. Not that any of us were greatly surprised. I don’t think anyone here really believed we’d see the promised pardon for our heroics.”

  I shifted uncomfortably. “Even so, I made a vow to serve the man, and I’m bound to keep it. There are innocent people the Praetor might punish if I fail to hold up my end of our bargain.”

  I suspected Fleet wouldn’t identify with the description of an innocent. But Hadrian was certainly a good man who didn’t deserve to come to harm. And Terrac… Well, I would rather not find out what might become of my friends in the city if I betrayed the Praetor. He was not noted for his mercy.

  Dradac seemed to follow my thinking. “Whatever happened to Terrac and your priest friend? Did they not return with you?”

  “We separated on the last leg of the return journey. But they’re both safe in Selbius now.”

  As far as I know, I added under my breath. The truth was, I wasn’t sure exactly what circumstances either of my friends were in since my last messages from them. I would soon have to return to the capital city and find out.

  Reminded of my purpose, I said, “Good as it is to see you again, Dradac, I have to confess I didn’t come here only to talk of inconsequentials.”

  “I thought as much. You’ve come about the Skeltai threat.”

  Remembering the burned corpses I had seen in the woods on my way here, I asked, “They’re really back then?”

  “You didn’t know?”

  “I only just encountered the evidence of a recent raid on a holding at the other side of Red Rock.”

  He nodded understanding. “That was a bad business. It happened two days ago. Our bunch stayed well out of it, but Marik saw what happened and reported it to the rest of us. Seems like the Skeltai came out of nowhere in that way they do.”

  I knew what he meant. We had discovered before that the Skeltai traveled long distances by means of a magical portal taking the form of a glowing blue circle etched in the ground. It was this that allowed them to move suddenly and stealthily between their territory and ours.

  He continued, “The woods folk shouldn’t have stood a chance. But by good luck, there was a patrol of Iron Fists nearby, and they arrived to catch the Skeltai unprepared. The savages hadn’t expected resistance and were easily put down. The farming family was saved, but they took off scared and abandoned the place anyway. Afterward, some of our more daring fellows, er, rescued what possessions they left behind.”

  “And the Skeltai were wiped out by the Fists? No survivors?”

  “None who were glad to be alive by the time the Fists were done with them. Not that I feel any pity for that murderous lot after how they preyed on the woods villagers last year.”

  It occurred to me there were some who would condemn the Dimmingwood thieves in similar terms, but I didn’t say so. And he was right. There was something especially disturbing in the Skeltai method of slaughtering innocent villagers. Thieving for survival was never their purpose. It was bloodshed they wanted, human lives to feed their barbarous religious rituals.

  “Do you think the raids are going to be like last time?” I asked. “That the war is starting all over again?”

  He ran a hand over his stubbled chin. “Hard to know what their plans are. But my guess is, your new master thinks they’re coming back in full force. Why else should we be seeing so many Fists patrolling the forest roads lately?”

  “So this wasn’t the first time they’ve attacked recently?”

  “There was one other a couple of weeks ago,” he answered. “Not a raid on a village, just another small holding. There were no Fists around that time, and the hold family never stood a chance.”

  “What are the outlaws doing to combat these new raids?” I wanted to know.

  He looked uncomfortable. “Not much. We look out for our own, and that’s getting hard enough now that we’ve got to dodge both foreign raiding parties and Iron Fists.”

  It hadn’t occurred to me the outlaws would avoid involvement. I protested, “But we should be looking for ways to fight back! The Skeltai are invading our territory and it’s only a matter of time—”

  I broke off speaking, suddenly remembering I had no right to issue orders around here anymore.

  Dradac smiled, obviously following my thoughts and unoffended. “I’m glad you still think of the band as ‘we.’ I was afraid your arrangement to work under the Praetor would have made it you versus us.”

  I said, “You should know better than that. But much as it pains me to speak in the Praetor’s defense, at least he’s doing something about the savages. I thought we learned in the last war the best means of defeating our common enemy is by uniting against them.”

  Dradac scratched his neck. “Sounds a lot like what you preached at us last time.”

  “It was Rideon who was reluctant to involve us then,” I said, leaning forward. “Are you going to make the same mistake he did?”

  “What do you suggest?”

  “Let me talk to the Praetor and negotiate another truce between you. The Dimmingwood thieves could again work as his eyes and ears in the forest, alerting him to Skeltai movements.”

  “That didn’t work out so well for us before. He stabbed us in the back after we outlived our usefulness.”

  “But we won the war and cleared the province of the raiders.”

  He looked at me consideringly. “Maybe you’d like to talk to the rest of the band. Try and persuade them to your way of thinking.”

  I hesitated. “You’re their captain. I don’t want to interfere.”

  “Yes you do. You can’t help it. It’s all right though, I’m not disagreeing with you—yet. But you’ll have to convince the others, and me, that we won’t be sticking our necks straight into the noose by working
hand in hand with Praetor Tarius again. I’m call them now to come and hear your plan.”

  He started to leave me but turned back as if struck by a troubling thought. “There’s only one thing I want to know. Are we doing this for you or for the Praetor?”

  That cut deep, but I tried not to be offended. It was a fair question.

  “He didn’t send me here to persuade you against your own interests, if that’s what you mean. I would never agree to that. But I do serve him now, and if this is to work, I must act as your go-between. I can’t promise he won’t betray your trust, but I hope you know I, at least, will try to do fairly by you.”

  He nodded thoughtfully. “That’s all I needed to hear. Good to have you back, Ilan.”

  ____________________

  My talks with the outlaws carried on late into the night. It grew dark, and we gathered around a campfire under the stars. Not everyone’s concerns were as easily put to rest as Dradac’s were. Without authority to speak on the Praetor’s behalf yet, I was limited in what assurances I could give. And I would not lie to them. I would not promise more than was in my power to give.

  The end result was that some of the men agreed to my proposal and others adopted a wait-and-see approach. Their support would depend on what payment and pledges I could extract from the Praetor on their behalf.

  I went to sleep that night with a weight of responsibility pressing down on me and a desperate hope I wasn’t leading my friends into a dangerous bargain. I hadn’t expected to step into this role ever again. But as I curled up beneath a borrowed blanket and breathed the comforting scent of earth and pine, I knew defending Dimmingwood was worth any cost. My bow glowed faintly in the darkness beside me. I took that as a sign of agreement.

  Chapter Three

  It wasn’t until I woke in the morning that I remembered I had yet to address the topic that had initially brought me here. I looked to discuss it with Dradac over breakfast, but he was off on some errand. I found myself approaching Fallon instead. She was new to the band, but she might have seen or heard something.