Victor Deus (Heritage of the Blood Book 1) (11 page)

“Of course, you said that there is a new job, taking some trinket from one of the houses in the Noble District.”

“Close enough, that little trinket is a special pair of manacles that has been stolen from one of our employers.” He looked Victor in the eyes, making sure that he had his full attention. “They will pay quite handsomely for it to be returned. They are a made of a silver-mithril alloy, and they are made for slavers, so don't accidentally slip one on.”

“Oh yeah, that's what I want to do, slip on a manacle that's been shaped for the slave trade. You can never tell what those things will do.” Victor rolled his eyes.

“Well sarcasm aside, there are a few people who would probably try it. This brings me to my next point, your taking Shawn with ya. I know you like to go solo most of the time on your jobs, but you may need an extra set of eyes out there. He's just gonna go with you to the manor, and keep a watch outside to make sure you don't need help. The inside is all yours.”

“Great, when do we start?”

“You'll leave this evening, and should arrive sometime around sunset. Make sure there aren't any extra guards, and then enter when evening settles in. The manacles should be on the second floor in the center of the display room in the south wing of the house. Shapers have been at work in the house, so be on your toes. I put two release scrolls in your backpack in case you need them. Those stupid Mages at the Protectorate are probably dissipating their own work. HA! So, what you should do now is get some rest, I'll wake you when it's time.” Ol' Man Walkins stepped over to one of his drawers and pulled out a gray cloak he then threw it to Victor. “Happy Birthday kid.”

“Wow, nice cloak, thanks.”

“The Mages call it a Stalkers cloak. It'll help you hide better when you have it fully drawn around you. Of course it won't help with those noisy feet of yours, but nobody is perfect, even you kid.”

“Yes sir.”

“And kid?” Walkins said, his voice taking on a softer tone.

“Yeah?”

“Be careful.”

Victor fell asleep rather easily once he reached his bunk. He was used to being awake at night, so this was his usual time for rest. When he woke up, a little before dusk, he found Shawnrik sitting at the table studying a book. Victor had begun teaching Shawnrik how to read a few months prior, and the large boy seemed to be doing rather well. Sliding out of bed alerted Shawnrik to his presence.

“Hey Vic, come 'ere for a sec.”

Victor approached the table groggily, and plopped down in a chair next to Shawnrik.

“What's this word here mean?”

“Fertilize… well, it's where you take the dung of a beast, mix it with some good soil, and plant something in it. Let me see that book…” Victor grabbed the book, and red a few paragraphs. “Shawn, this is a book on farming, are you planning on quitting and becoming a farmer? Cause if you are, warn me now and I'll know to avoid your house, you might put me to an honest days work.”

“Vic, this isn't no book on farmin'… see here,” He closed the book and showed Victor the cover. “It says ag..ri..culture, agri-culture! Now what does a farmer need to know about culture?”

Victor could barely suppress a full belly laugh and had to release a slight chuckle or he would explode. “Well, that's a good question Shawny, and you'll have to remind me to ask a farmer about that one day. Unfortunately, agriculture is the culturing, or cultivating of the earth, in other words, farming.”

“Really, you aren't foolin' me?”

“No sir, on my honor as a thief.” Victor held up his right hand did a little flourish that made his dagger appear and disappear in the blink of an eye.

“Damn Vic, you sure are smart. I wish I was even half as smart as you.” He hung his head, and tossed the book onto the pile in the corner of the room.

“Don't say that Shawn. I don't want to ever hear you say that again. It's not your fault that I got schooling since I was little. You're learning all of this stuff from scratch, and it isn't going to be easy. Shaylyn always said that it was easier to teach people when they are real little. Not to mention, you have an eight year old as a teacher. I am not exactly academy trained. There are probably a thousand better ways for me to be teaching you, but I don't know them. You are doing really well. For Cypheria's sake you can already read better than most of the people in the Docks District.” Victor chuckled, “and you already know more about life than most of the people in the Noble District.”

Shawnrik grinned at that. “Yeah them nobles don't know nothin' 'bout what it's like livin' down 'ere in these streets.”

“Your right, Shaylyn always told me that there are three kinds of smarts in the world, street smarts, book smarts, and dumb smarts. Street smarts are what you've been teaching me, it's the smarts of life. Book smarts are what I'm teaching you, it's the knowledge that will set you above most folks. Dumb smarts are those people that are either book smart, or street smart, but still consider themselves superior. She said that some of the dumbest people she had ever met, were scholars that stayed in their libraries, and Street thugs who never made an attempt to learn about the world at large. You have street smarts, and you are working on gaining book smarts. Just doing that shows that you have an intellect far greater than most of the people around here. Now, the thing that both of us need to work on is wisdom. Shaylyn said that wisdom is the application of the knowledge that you have gained, and the best way to gain that knowledge is through experience. She said that to be truly great, one would have to have the intelligence, the wisdom, and the strength to do great things. So, we will work on all three of them together.”

Shawnrik simply stared at Victor for a while. “You know you're a little over four years younger than me. I should be the big brother in this situation sharin' my vast knowledge, and protectin' you from the big bad world. Instead, I'm always looking to you for support. If I ever get to be too much of a burden you just tell me and I'll go.”

Victor leaned over and placed his hand on Shawnrik's head. “My friend, I have a feeling my life is going to be hectic. Shaylyn was always hinting that I was going to do great things. If I am to do great things, I am going to need a lot of support. This means I am going to need a strong right hand to tell me when I'm doing something foolish, or stupid. If I ever ask too much of you just tell me. You are always talking about growing up to be a knight. I will try my best to make that happen. If you will watch my back I will watch yours. Brothers till the end!”

Victor held up his hand, and Shawnrik grabbed it.

“Brothers till the end!”

The door slammed open “What's all this yellin' about? I'll give ya an endin' if you don't get dressed and get goin, if you catch my meanin.” Ol' man Walkins stood in the doorway waving his dirk around in the air as if he was cutting something.

Both boys looked at the blade and then there was a swirl of motion as both boys raced to get dressed. They did get the old man's meaning, and wanted none of it. So in minutes they had their gear on and were moving down the street towards the Noble District. Shawnrik was ready first.

“You don't think he'd really cut
us
do you?” Shawnrik inquired as they walked through the streets of the Civilian Sector on their way to the Noble District.

“Well, he did it to Roland, and he hasn't been able to hear very well out of his left ear since… I don't think he'd do it to us though, we're his two best boys. He'd have to work all the other kids double just to make what we bring in.”

“Your probably right Vic.”

Victor started laughing.

“What are you laughin' about?” Shawnrik asked while nudging Victor with his elbow.

“You” Victor stated.

“Me?!” Shawnrik said defensively.

“Yeah you, last year I couldn't get you to shut up, but ever since I've been teaching you to read I can barely get more of a couple of sentence out of you.”

Not seeing the joke Shawnrik got a little defensive. “Sorry Vic, it's not like I don't wanna' talk or nothin' I just got nothin' to say anymore.”

“Don't get me wrong my friend; it's not a bad thing. In fact I think it shows that you're understanding things a lot better now. You don't feel the need to ramble on about things that don't really matter. That my friend I believe is a bit of Wisdom.”

Shawnrik couldn't help but give a chuckle of his own. “Vic, even when your laughin' at me you always seem to make me feel better.”

“Quiet time,” Victor held up his hand as they started seeing larger homes in the distance.

Victor moved into an alley, and the held to the shadows as tightly as their cloaks clung to their bodies. Anyone able to see the two boys was probably up the same type of business, and the best way to stay alive on the streets was to mind your own business. Had anyone else seen the boys they would have passed them off as a wild dog, or a trick of the light and shadows. This was
their
element, the element of the thief. A good thief learns to wrap the shadows around himself like a warm blanket, and Victor possessed training that allowed him to manipulate the shadows to his own gain.

Halfway there, Victor stopped behind a large waste bin and motioned Shawnrik closer. Focusing his will, he strengthened the bonds in their cloaks, making it harder for a weapon or an arrow to penetrate. He didn't have the willpower yet to make the fabric stay that way for longer than a few hours, but until his will was overridden by the nature of the cloth it would stay as strong as most armors. Without a word the boys continued on.

Victor stopped in front of one of the wealthier estates in the Noble District. The Noble District was home to mostly nobles, as the name implicates, however, there were also a few extremely wealthy merchants that lived here. It was more than likely that he was going to be robbing some Lord. For all Victor knew, it could be worse, and he was about to burgle from a member of the Royal Family. He didn't like that line of thought, but he had a job to do, and he was going to do it.

Shawnrik was waiting across the street in an alley that faced the window he planned on using. Victor liked the Nobility District, with its beautiful statues, and wide cobbled streets. The only time he could come here, without being yelled at by a guard, was when he came in the guise of a Gnome Mage. He really liked pretending to be a Gnome, they were just as short as he was, and they got to be rude to people without having them getting angry… much. The first barrier he came across was an easy one to surmount, the large fence that surrounded the perimeter of the house. Climbing it would have been simple, but since he fit through the gaps in the bars he wouldn't need to. He wished that he could come down here during the day without making himself look like someone else, but they didn't like “dirty little urchins” fouling the beauty of their District. That part had always made him mad, these people could live in their idealized neighborhoods, but as soon as they saw someone that reminded them of the real world they would get angry, and for all the wrong reasons.

Victor realized that he was letting his mind wander and scolded himself for his stupidity.
I bet an experienced thief never lets his mind wander when he's doing something dangerous.
He tip-toed through the landscaped gardens(which had to have been recently visited by a Mage or a Priest because the plants were in full bloom with several months left of Winter), past towering statues that he assumed had once been heroes or lords in their own right. He felt like they were looking down on him in disgust for what he was doing, but Victor just let those emotions slide off the mental barrier he had erected. Whether those thoughts came from himself, or were the first line of defense for the house, it didn't matter, they would not stop him. Victor moved against the manor's wall, the rustle of grass the only indication anyone would have that he was there. Quickly looking around he made sure that he hadn't been seen by any of the guards, and there were none heading his way on patrol. None in sight, he put his mind towards climbing the wall.

Probing the wall with his mind he found that it had no assistance from a Shaper in it's construction. He would have to be careful here, for the bricks were only held together by the will of the mold used to make them, and the fire used to strengthen them. Rocks were much like water in that they would assume whatever shape was needed at the time. Stone like granite, or diamonds were harder to manipulate, but even they would take to a new shape as if it was natural once changed. Many believed that the strength of a wall came only from the materials used to create it, and that is a large portion of it's durability. The real bond that holds it together however is the will of it's builder. If the builder cared for his work, and wanted the wall to be a barrier it would become much stronger than if the builder was just working for money and daydreamed about what he would be doing later that day. In this way, everyone has a little power as a Shaper. The thing that separates a true Shaper from a builder however, is the ability to read and understand these bonds. The bricks themselves were well made, but they lacked passion, or pride. The mortar while nothing impressive was made by a man who loved his job, so even though it wasn't the best mixture, it still held strong. The men who put the wall together daydreamed about doing other things however, so the whole was not as strong as its parts. If he wanted to break down the wall, this would be a good thing, but he just needed to climb it. This meant that if he used his will to make handholds it would more than likely retain that shape, and it would be obvious that there was an intruder, how they got in, potentially how big they were, and should a Shaper examine it, how strong of a will he had, and what he was feeling at the time. Once Victor was experienced enough he would be able to mask some of the information that could be gained from such an examination, but he was many years away from that kind of mastery.

Instead he would have to exert as little of his will on the wall as he could. It would require a lot more of his attention, but would also leave little trace. To do so he would have to climb the wall as well as he could naturally, while providing as little adhesion to the wall with his hands and boots as possible. This had been one of his favorite things Shaylyn had taught him, and also one of the hardest. It was difficult because he had to exert just enough control over the molecules to allow them to bond for a short period, and then release with as little change as possible. Small bits of brick dust fell from his hands and feet, telling him his skill was not as good as it could be. It had only taken Victor about fifteen seconds from the moment he reached the wall to reach the second floor window, but those fifteen seconds might as well have been an hour for the effort he expended. Ever so slowly he lifted his head over the base of the window, looking for any movement within.