I am not a crook, thought Septimus as he crouched between bushes outside the merchant's house. It's not because I can, but because I have to. In between gusts from the violent winds, he strained his ears, alert for passing watchmen or, more commonly, Morn or another village night owl, stumbling home drunk after being kicked out of Beyrd's tavern.
"You're doing that thing again," whispered Remus, beside him.
Turning his head, Septimus inquired, "What thing?"
"Your ears. They shift when you're straining," Remus's face broke in a haughty grin as Septimus's face acquired a blood-red palor. "Peace, brother. I've told you: In and out. The man is old, and sound asleep by now. We grab the pendant, and then we may actually be able to make it out of this pit akin to the Ninth Hell and do something with our lives." There it was. Playing to Septimus's aspirations. Since their father had passed, Remus had always said, "Once we can make it out, we'll actually go somewhere that appears on maps. We'll pass through the land's greatest cities and stake our claim in the mountains."
Septimus knew, of course, that his elder brother meant none of those things. In all likelihood, Remus would disappear once the two did make it out of Palotston, which indeed was omitted from most all maps due to its size, isolation, and general insignificance. The knowledge pained Septimus, but he knew Remus would not be swayed. So he never verbalized the matter.
The house they hid outside of now was owned by the merchant Lizen, the uncrowned ruler of Palotston. His ancestors, the Lizencar House of Nomads, had founded the village decades ago, and now Palf Lizen resided in his ancestral home, a well-built and stocky two-story wooden structure. Lizen's economic prowess and power had kept the village from collapse several times over, and he dominated what little lawmaking body existed in the small community, occupying a seat on the council and carrying huge sway over the others with his wealth.
And now the village urchins were robbing him.
When the light of the watchman's torch had faded to a distant glow, The brothers shared a glance before Remus darted across the estate, stopping on the front porch. From his place on the edge of the property, Septimus scanned the front facade of the house, searching for movement or light amongst the windows, anything that would denote Remus had been spotted. Satisfied upon seeing none, he joined his brother on the porch, where Remus was working on the lock, wiggling one of his tools into the keyhole. After half a minute, there was a nearly inaudible click, and a twist of the knob swung the heavy oak door inward, spilling the faint moonlight into Lizen's house.
I shouldn't be doing this, thought Septimus as he followed Remus into the front chamber. The light of the moon only illuminated a small rectangle of silver inside the doorway, making the darkness beyond feel like a solid object. The dark weighed even heavier on his shoulders as Remus swung the door shut again, plunging the two into soul-smothering black. Just before the door resealed, however, Remus's cloak pulled back, and thrust through his belt Septimus glimpsed the hunting knife Father had given them. Why does he need that? Septimus pondered, an icy chill filling his abdomen as he imagined his brother weilding it over Lizen's sleeping form. But he would never, he told himself. Still feeling cold, Septimus held his brother's tunic as Remus recounted the route through the darkness, hands held aloft to prevent an accident.
The plan was simple. Palf would be asleep in his upper-floor bedchamber by now, along with his wife, Padma. The object they sought was a pendant- of orcish make and of a high religious value in orc society- but the amulet's history or societal worth wasn't what had attracted Septimus and Remus; rather, it was the scent of monetary value that drew Remus to this night of petty theivery. The pendant, Remus had learned, hung on a chain in a storeroom under the staircase opposite the front door.
So it was that the pair found themselves shambling along the sitting room wall in the dark, groping the walls for an indication that they had found the object of their search. After what seemed an eternity in the gloom, Remus pushed open a door to reveal their prized storeroom. The cramped space had a window at the other end-unshuttered, unlike the others- and through the silver light they made out shelves along one wall, dotted with herbs and trinkets. Directly under the window sat an oak chest with brass fittings, and along the adjacent wall, above a low bookshelf, hung the very itemof their search, suspended on a hook. The pendant's central figure was an eight-pointed star, and set in its middle was a murky green orb nearly two inches in diameter.
Remus strode across the room and plucked the jewel from its holding place, raising it to eye level so the pair of them might inspect it further. Septimus noticed that the orb's contents appeared to be moving- much liks swirling slime trapped in glass. The points of the star were interspersed with golden lines bearing harsh runes: Orcish lettering. The remainder of the frame, as well as the chain, were a murky steel.
With a triumphant smirl, Remus dripped the chain into his right hand and set the talisman on top of it, closing his fist around it. As Septimus turned to leave, a pained yelp came from behind him, and he whirled to see Remus, nursing his hand, drop the pendant, which had acquired a reddish tint the color of iron in a forge. The medallion struck the wooden floor, where as it stayed it began to lose its rosy coloring. Scowling, Remus snatched the pendant back up. "We should go."
"Agreed. I suppose that was some sort of anti-theft spell; not a good one, I might add, since it only lasts a number of moments."
"The charm was not meant to brand," came a voice, "but to warn." Whipping around, Septimus glimpsed the figure of Palf Lizen in the doorframe, hand outstretched. "Give." It was not a request, but an order.
An order Septimus had no intention of following. "But, Lizen, we can't. That pendant may actually buy our way outta here. Right, Remus?" But to his surprise, his brother had already dropped his face and slumped his shoulders in the telltale submissive gesture. Shouldering Septimus aside, Remus moved toward Lizen, hand bearing the pendant outstreched. As he passed, he met Septimus's eyes, and in them Septimus saw- By Asmodeus, No!
Quick as a snake, Remus's hand flew to his belt- and to the knife concealed there- and brought his hand back up. Remus held Lizen's shoulder with the hand still clutching the pendant as he drove their father's hunting knife into the merchant's abdomen. Over his heart pounding in his ears he heard the snick of tempered steel pushing aside flesh, and the sudden intake of breath as the old man gasped for air. The blade withdrew and re-entered Lizen's bodice, higher this time, and this time the man's gasps turned to splutters as his punctured lung failed and his breath was denied him.
Remus locked eyes with the man as he drained the life from him. Lizen dropped to the floor. Septimus remained rooted to the spot, fear and confusion keeping him immobile. As Remus turned to him, Septimus saw his brother's intentions through his eyes, as he always had before, since they were children. Yet he was still rendered immobile as Remus raised the blade, still dripping Lizen's blood, and brought the pommel down on Septimus's forehead. Stars leaped into his field of vision, and in the span of a blink he was on the floor, staring at Remus's boots. A disembodied voice taunted him from above: "I'm truly sorry it had to be this way, mine kin, but if I wish to have all the land kneel at my feet...well, little brother has to go." Septimus was aware of cold steel being pushed into his hand, then a woman's screams and breaking glass, before the world went black.
