A Thief's Shadow

The Willing Sacrifice

The narrow pathway twisted upwards along the side of the mountain bleached permanently white with snow. It was oddly clear considering the daily blizzards, but no footsteps were visible. They had swept the path behind them with a branch in order to keep it both clear for the next one to go up and clear of footprints so that the casual observer would not realize the path was more than just a goat track. The man began to pick his way along the frighteningly narrow track at a much slower pace than he had been using in order to get to this point.

The path was cut in a way that it appeared as if it went on forever, but the actual entrance came abruptly as he turned the corner. He'd been here once before, but under very different circumstances. A roughly built door made of wood rattled in a similarly built frame built into the rock as the icy wind pounded against it. With all of the racket it was making, they wouldn't realize if he simply stepped inside without knocking. The flimsy door was locked, but not very well considering what lay within. It took less than thirty seconds to pick the lock, and even less than that to lock it behind him.

"Hey Jinx! You on duty tonight?" There was always a Jinx. They thought they were so clever when they thought of that nickname. He'd met at least twenty of them in his life, and none of them had ever known each other. The poor bastards who chose such a name were usually fairly oblivious to the world around them, or they lived in denial of just how idiotic their nickname was.

"Nah, just good ol' Blackjack. Jinx innt on duty ternight. Sorry mate, but I can't say I've seen ya 'fore. Ya new? Ya did a mighty fine job of pickin' that lock if ya are." A man with all four card symbols tattooed beneath his eyes like teardrops, the heart and the spade under one eye and the clover and the diamond under the other, stepped out from a niche in the wall about ten feet from the entrance. Most of the time, the criminals posted as gate guards were the dumbest of the lot. He'd been counting on that assumption.

"Blackjack? I think I've hearda ye. Good at gambling, yea?" He adopted an accent similar to the boy's, but not too similar in order to avoid questions about a hometown.

"Yeah! I s'pose I coulda heard o' ya, too. Whatchername?"

"Bah! I'm a new 'un you can't 'ave heard o' me. But I did get myself some handy information, and we need ta spread the word quick-like before it's too late." The man quickly stepped closer to his tattooed companion and leaned in to whisper. "I just saw part of the King's very own army comin' up this here mountain. They is still half a day away, but I can tell they's comin' up to us. I got myself all holed up in a tree and listened to the conversations goin' on in their lil' camp and they says that they're comin' up here ta strike a deal with us."

"Well that sounds like a good thing," Blackjack whispered back, nodding his head as if it held a spring.

"I s'pose it is, but there's one lil' problem. They thinks that we is part of that foolish lil' Guild o' Shadows, and if we aren't I thinks that they is gonna just kill us for being thieves!"

The terribly simple criminal gasped, his jaw dropping open, the spring now bouncing it up and down instead of his head. "Oh gee... what do we do? So we's all gonna die? I don't wanna die at the hands o' that filthy bastard! We gotsta run away quick 'fore they get here then." He turned to run and warn the others, but the man grabbed his wrist.

"Wait! I got an idea. How about we paint that little star symbol on our wrists so that they think we are actually part of the Guild. Do we got black paint? Or per'aps chalk?"

A slow grin spread across Blackjack's face. "Yeah! Yeah we do got lossa black paint. Fer when we is breaking in ta important places at night and all them pale people like myself gotsta make ourselves blend inta that darkness. We gotta tell everyone to get paintin'! How much time we got? Half a day?" His companion nodded.

"I'll keep an eye on them soldiers if ya like. I'm no good at talkin' to big groups o' people. Make sure ya tell everyone! If one person forgets the whole trick is up!" The man mimed cutting his throat and the criminal winced.

"I don't wanna die and I don't want my friends ter die so don't worry 'bout nothin. See ya when this is all over." The petty criminal mock-saluted him and he returned the motion. A moment later they went their separate ways once again as the man lightly made his way down the mountain path and into the forest to continue his spying once again.

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