Ambition and Alavidha (8 page)

“Well? Well it
appears that everything the Lind think is important goes to a
special place, deep inside the rtathlians, least that’s what they
told me. After some more judicious buying of strong ale they even
told me the where. They called it Gtratin.”

“The
Gtrathlin?”

“That sounds
like it My Lord. Hope I did right but I decided to make a detour to
take a look, I was coming here along the North Caravan Route
anyway, eastwards from the Talastown ferry. It’s not a busy route
this time of year but it is always well maintained. It winds along
easy enough and passes right by, save a couple of miles this place
you call Gtrathlin. A Lindish word isn’t it? Vada Supply Stations
sit along it, every sixty miles or so and there’s a bigger one
there at the Gtratin.”

“Gtrathlin,”
Erik corrected, absentmindedly. “So you went there? Did anyone ask
any questions as to why you
were
there?” Erik Halfarm was
alarmed and his face showed it. “There must be no suspicion, none
at all and the Lind, it’s said they can pick thoughts out of a
man’s mind.”

“No worries on
that score,” soothed his henchman, “I’ve come across Lind before
and no problems. I seem to be able to shield my thoughts from them.
I told them I was a notary by profession, I’ve got the necessary
paperwork to prove it, on my way from Talastown to Port Lutterell.
I don’t know if they believed me, maybe they thought I was a
prospector of some kind but even they had to admit the North
Caravan’s the easiest route from there to the port. Time is coin I
told them and they laughed and agreed. Anyway, I was there, I even
got shown round since I said I’d never been there before and was
unlikely to be there again. I expressed a great deal of interest,
they never suspected a thing. During the tour I made all the right
noises and asked umpteen inane questions. Very polite they were and
answered every one. Name of Drinan he was and his Lind was called
Kathya; they showed me round. I liked them. During the tour Drinan
pointed out to me a place he called the cave. Wouldn’t take me
close to it, which I thought a bit strange because he showed me
round everywhere else. I asked if I could look inside but he
refused.”

“Was it
guarded?”

“Yep. Two Lind.
Drinan said it was guarded round the candlemark. If this artefact
you’re looking for is there, that’s where it is, I’m sure of it,
can’t be anyplace else, stands to reason.”

“Good,” said
Erik, pushing over a purse of coin, “that’s for a job well done.
I’ll take it from here.”

“Yes My Lord,”
the stallion’s owner smiled as he jingled the coins. With his other
hand he handed over the maps and drawings he had made of his
journey, of the Gtratha and of the descriptions people had given
him of the box the Baron was looking for.

The Baron
coughed, he didn’t look at the papers.

“These are your
instructions, I want you to take the bay my man bought for you this
morning from the stables, go first light. She’s not much of a
looker but she’s sound and will get you to Port Lutterell without
any trouble,” Erik Halfarm handed over a letter. “This one you take
to my wife, tell her I’ll be a bit longer but that I’ll be home by
winter’s turn. There’ll be another letter too. You’ll find it in
the bay’s saddlebag. It goes directly to the King. Hand it over
yourself.”

“I will. My
horse?”

“Leave him,
I’ll make it all right with the stable hands,” instructed Erik with
the indifference of a wealthy man. “I need to disconnect you from
him and he is a striking looking animal.”

The stallion’s
now late owner didn’t complain out loud but he wasn’t best pleased.
However, he was one of the best in the business and saw the sense
in what the Baron was saying.

He left the inn
at dawn, riding the bay and headed towards Port Lutterell where he
intended to take a merchant ship to Leithe. At the port and as
instructed, he sold the bay thus even more distancing himself from
the Baron.

Young Jak saw
him leave and wondered. There was also much talk among the inn
servants. Why the man should swop the stallion for an unimpressive
bay mare no-one could understand. It was concluded that money had
passed hands and that the buyer had paid well to purchase the
stallion. He
was
a beautiful animal. It was further
concluded that the man had obviously been in a hurry to get away
and that as the stallion, being winded would need a day or so to
recover, he had decided to sell him.

Baron Erik
Halfarm also left the inn that day, leaving the stallion and his
man behind and so careful had they been that no-one even suspected
the connection between him and both of his employees.

He did not
follow the route to Port Lutterell. He first set off west then
turned in a southerly direction, making for an Argyllian village
named Stanton.

* * * * *

-8-

VILLAGE OF
STANTON - ARGYLL

Chad, short for
Chadwick Smallhide, was a thief; a very accomplished and successful
thief. In fact, he was so good that he had managed to steal enough
to set himself up in a small way; by purchasing a small farm estate
in north western Argyll. More importantly, he was so good that he
had never been caught divesting his targets of their valuables, nor
had he even been suspected.

His house was
well built, not over large but big enough for his needs, house
servants to attend to his every comfort and farm workers who worked
his land. Thus at forty-one he had retired from what he personally
called his ‘primary occupation’ and lived a respectable life of
comparative luxury. That was not to say that he wouldn’t have
preferred to have a lot more coin in his strongbox. Coin had an
alarming propensity to diminish and Chad was not enamoured of a
future watching the pennies and of a poverty-stricken old age.

His main
problem was that he was bored, he missed the excitement of planning
and executing the thievings and it was during a particularly boring
time when who came to his door but a gentleman with a proposition.
The visitor was an urbane and well-educated man in fine yet subtle
clothing (of southern make) and Chad found what he had to say very
interesting indeed.

He heard his
visitor out but shook his head.

“You say this
is a dangerous job. I do not wish to undertake a commission of a
dangerous nature,” he told the man, opening his hands, palms up,
indicating his refusal. His nose was, however, twitching and
perhaps the man who had searched him out noticed this.

“I’ll double
the fee,” pressed the man, known to his King as Erik Halfarm but
who had introduced himself to Chad as someone else, a vassal of one
of the Dukes of Murdoch.

Chad shook his
head but knew that he would accept if the fee offered went at least
a half higher.

“Three times,”
he said, “and I’ll consider it.”

Chad was very
surprised when his visitor nodded. He should have become suspicious
but he didn’t. After all, six hundred gold crowns! A small
fortune!

“One box you
say?” he enquired.

“Indeed, a
plain, hardwood box about one and a half the length of my arm.” The
man thumped his open hands down on the table about a hand and a
half apart.

“Heavy?”

“Not so heavy.
One man can lift it easily. I have detailed drawings and maps.”

“Where exactly
is it and how well guarded?”

Chad’s visitor
looked evasive and Chad snorted.

“I’m not going
to accept this job until I know all the details and that’s my final
word. It must be hidden in an out of the way place else you
wouldn’t be prepared to pay what you are.”

“Not that far,”
Erik temporised.

“Not until you
tell me exactly where,” said Chad in an implacable voice.

“If I quadruple
the original fee?”

“Now you’re
talking.”

Why, he could
buy a whole island for that, albeit a small one. Being master of an
island appealed to Chad. He was the best thief that had ever graced
the planet after all, it didn’t really matter just where and how
well guarded this box was. Chad had absolute confidence in his
abilities.

“Half up
front,” he said.

“No,” his
visitor answered, “not possible.”

Chad rose to
his feet.

“Then you will
leave now,” he said, bluffing (he really wanted this
commission).

“Fifty,” the
man countered.

“That’s not
enough, there will be expenses.”

“Not my
problem,” he answered, “you’re being well paid for your
trouble.”

“Who is your
Duke?” Chad asked, changing the subject and trying to get his
visitor off balance.

“Highest in the
land.”

“Not quite the
highest I would think. Which Duke of Murdoch is it this time?”

“You have
worked for the south before?”

“Once or
twice.” Chad shrugged, “doesn’t matter who, as long as they pay up.
Which Duke?”

“I am not at
liberty to say,” Chad’s guest prevaricated.

Chad shrugged
again. So one of the Dukes was up to no good again. Some things
never did change. Still, it didn’t really matter. “What’s so
important about this box?” he asked, “and where exactly is it, you
never said.”

“I didn’t did
I? It’s in a very difficult place.”

“There’s no
strong room in all the lands that I can’t get in to,” Chad boasted.
“So what is it and where.”

“You will take
the job?”

“I said so
didn’t I? Chadwick Smallhide never goes back on his word.”

“Well, I’m
authorised to tell you so much about the box’s contents. It proves
blood-lineage, papers and the like I believe.”

This confirmed
Chad’s suspicions. The Kingdom of Murdoch was about to erupt into
civil war again. He thought this bit of information definitely
proved he was right. Perhaps there was, or would be another
claimant to the throne. He’d heard that the ruler of Murdoch was a
queen at the moment, a widowed queen and her heir, yes, another
girl. That was it then. Civil war. Still, it wasn’t his
problem.

“Where is it?
Stewarton? In the repository there? Because if that’s the case I’ll
have the very devil of a job getting it.”

“No, not
Stewarton. It’s in a cave in the very middle of the Rtathlians of
the Lind.”

Chad regarded
his employer’s agent in stunned disbelief before exploding, “you
expect me to steal something guarded by the Lind? Your Duke must be
mad!”

“Are you
reneging on your word?”

“No. I am not.
I said I will do it and I will, but I’ll need a hundred crowns up
front.”

“Fifty is all
I’m authorised to pay. You might fail and then my employer will
have all the trouble to find someone else.”

“If I can’t do
it then no-one can,” boasted Chad.

“They said you
were the best,” said Erik in a detached manner.

“I am the
best,” Chad affirmed, “but even so…”

“Think of it as
a challenge,” the man suggested, “the challenge of your life, you
may go down in history as the greatest, richest thief that ever
lived.”

“I hope not,”
Chad disagreed, “part of the secret of success is anonymity.”

He was going to
do this, he knew he was. Now he had heard about the box he wouldn’t
be able to rest until he had it in his possession.

“Tell me what
the box looks like, not just it’s size.”

The man smiled
thinly to himself as he brought a piece of grubby parchment from
his pocket.

“This is the
picture of the box.”

“Drawn from the
original?”

“Yes, I believe
so.”

Chad took the
parchment.

“When I’ve got
the thing where do I take it? South to Murdoch?”

“Galliard.”

“Galliard?”

“My Duke is not
the only collector in the world,” the man lied with a smoothness
born of long practice, “once word gets out that it has been stolen
he is sure that his rivals will try to take it off him. He wants it
delivered to him via a circuitous route. There will be a fast ship
waiting at Galliard.”

* * * * *

Chad took a
long time planning the theft. Good planning he knew was an
essential element of success. His employer hadn’t put a definite
time on when the box had to be stolen but it was essential he be
prepared.

He had been
left coin, running expenses amounting to twenty gold crowns. Chad
spent wisely but as he planned he realised that thirty more crowns
which were to arrive by month’s end would not nearly be enough. He
would have to borrow the rest. He knew just the person.

One fine day he
put the estate into the hands of his Steward and departed for
Stewarton.

* * * * *

STEWARTON -
ARGYLL

For a Master
Thief, who you know is almost as important as what you know. His
employer’s agent had sent him the rest of the crowns as promised
and although Chad calculated that this would be more than enough to
pay for the expenses he would have to pay out to steal the box he
had no intention of using more than a little of it for that
purpose.

He intended to
let another foot the majority of the bill and one never knew,
perhaps he wouldn’t even pay it back. With almost six hundred gold
crowns he would be able to go anywhere he wanted to and certainly
far enough away from the man he intended to swindle and from the
cut-throats he was like to send out to find him.

Chad made a
visit to Nonder Walmson.

“I need to get
to the Gtratha,” he informed him bluntly, “how much?”

Nonder
considered the request, eyes narrowing as he calculated the
impossible and the possible, the costs and how much he would
charge.