A Series of Mistakes

The First Mistake

On nights such as this, witches are abroad. Well, not actually abroad. They don't like the food and you can't trust the water and the shamans always hog the deckchairs. -- Terry Pratchett, Wyrd Sisters

The fault lay entirely with that bottle of Vlamdier's Finest. If Brigitta hadn't discovered it hidden away at the very back of her pantry she wouldn't have decided a stiff drink was exactly what she needed right now. If Halcyon hadn't dropped by for a visit she wouldn't have invited him to join her. If they hadn't both started complaining about their money problems they wouldn't have considered ways to get more money. And if they hadn't both been rather the worse for drink they wouldn't have decided on the worst possible way.

Yes, Brigitta thought as she stared up at the throne. The skulls on spikes around it stared right back at her. It's all the fault of that bottle.

The only trouble was, she suspected the throne's occupant would not accept this as a defence.

~~~~

It all began after the drink led to that decision-- No, wait. Actually it began before both the drink and the decision. It began several months before, when Brigitta first moved into the rooms across the hall from Hal's lodging, when they first met, and when they discovered they were in similar financial situations. Very bad financial situations, in fact. That was why they were both forced to take rooms over a mile away from where they worked. And that was why they got into the habit of grumbling about their finances at every chance they got.

From time to time they came up with ideas to make more money. None of those ideas worked very well. No one was willing to pay much for Hal's calligraphy or Brigitta's attempts at baking. Eventually Hal suggested robbing a bank. He was probably joking. Brigitta took him seriously and began looking into how to rob a bank.

She quickly decided that was far too dangerous and came up with a different idea: robbing some rich old miser. Everyone knew the richest person in the Combined Realms was the King of Morlangor. Rumour had it she -- yes, she; it was a long story that boiled down to mistranslations and misunderstandings -- hoarded enough gold to put a dragon to shame. She was the obvious target for a little bit of burglary.

Rumour also had it she was a vampire who decorated her home with the desiccated bodies of her victims. But you couldn't believe everything you heard.

While they drank Brigitta told Hal about her conclusions. He cheerfully agreed to help rob the King of Morlangor. And so the first mistake was made.

The next morning she awoke with the unpleasant feeling she'd done something very stupid. This feeling was confirmed when she found the notebook with her nigh-incomprehensible scribbles detailing her plan to rob the king. But then she looked in her empty fridge and remembered she had a long bus trip just to reach the café where she worked, and suddenly the plan didn't seem so bad after all.

For the next month Brigitta and Hal carefully went over every detail of the robbery. They scrimped and saved to gather enough food for the journey and enough money for transportation. Morlangor was in the middle of the Combined Realms, on the border between the Human Realm and the Monster Realm. Depending on who you asked its king lived either in a castle surrounded by monstrous guards with a taste for human blood or in a city that anyone could visit at any time they wanted with no questions asked. The two would-be thieves unanimously decided to believe the second rumour. 

As soon as they had all their supplies ready they handed in their notice at their jobs. Then they set off to rob someone who was possibly a vampire.

Brigitta very firmly refused to listen to the nagging worry at the back of her mind.