Private Tales A Thief in the Night

[Raigryn Vayd]

Raigryn let out a low chuckle. The lad seemed to move between thoughts quite quickly, trying to keep up with his gesticulating. Even writing wouldnt be able to keep up properly.

"You do whistle a fine tune. Bet you could play pipe too. Not that it's any kind of career I'd want to leave you with."

If he had been a mind reader he could have understood what it was that Fife had been through. Expression and emotion told Raigryn much, but it was never the complete picture.

It was nice to teach again. Made him feel important. An empath was supposed to be balanced, perhaps the fall was because of the pride he had once held. Raigryn had been handsome, talented, successful. Now he taught brats how to write and took coin on his travels to help strangers. He didn't mind his lot in life, but it was nice to feel like he was a little bit important again.

"A cobbler makes boots and shoes. You've got such dainty hands. If you can pick a lock you can probably cut and sew well enough."

 

[Fife]

He understood, and she smiled and shrugged when he continued the thought in the same progression she had. Raigryn seemed nice enough, and even her cynical expectations of others couldn't paint him as anything otherwise. It was refreshing and a small reminder that, just as she wasn't all she seemed, neither were all people bad.

Her smile wilted a little and she sighed deeply when he explained the cobbler was a shoemaker. She nodded and pinched her clothes to begin a statement, but when she looked down remembered that she was no longer wearing her ragged gear but instead the pieces he'd gotten her. Fife still continued with trying to gesture her thought, making a sewing motion over where the other hand pinched, and finishing by spacing her thumb and finger a small distance apart. If he was paying close attention, he would have noticed she used her left hand to sew -- had been pointing and gesturing primarily with that hand.

I can sew a little. Her past sewing experience was rudimentary in comparison, but it was a foundation in the practice. She had used threads from the linen she used to bind her chest and a needle fashioned from a long splinter. It wasn't good, but the wrappings she still wore beneath her clothes were still fastened together, end-to-end, so it must have been a decent enough job.

But it wasn't her ability or inability that worried her. Raigryn had been kind today, and being left with someone less kind was scary. Still, she had to put her faith in him and pray to the nameless gods that his friends were even a small bit as kind as he was. And if they weren't nice... well, running away was still a viable option.

// Raigryn Vayd //​

 

[Raigryn Vayd]

"Well then...I don't know any seamstresses and if I did they still don't often take on young boys. Should be able to pick up shoes easily enough."

Raigryn proceeded to explain in more detail what the known limitations of their abilities were. For now, he left off exactly what could be achieved with each or the aspects. The last thing he wanted was Fife trying to use an ability because it sounded exciting to him.

However, when he realised that he was starting to grow hungry he realised that he has a prior appointment that he needed to get to.

"Damn," he muttered, looking at where the sun hung in the sky. "Don't have time to drop you back at the inn and I've got a merchant to see. You'll have to come along. Hungry? Now...excuse the blunt question but can you use a knife and fork?"

 

[Fife]

She didn't inform Raigryn that she wasn't a boy, hoping to keep up this guide for as long as possible, and he continued the lesson. She paid close attention. Fife had learned to absorb information quickly by observation, but he was providing a wealth of knowledge in a short amount of time. She nodded along, hoping that she was catching everything he said before he moved on to the next detail.

As the morning passed, the light cloud cover dissipated and an early noon sun appeared overhead. Raigryn stopped the lesson when he apparently realized the hour of day. He informed her of an appointment and asked if she was hungry. Fife was still nodding her head eagerly when he asked if she knew how to use a knife and fork.

A flush colored her face with shame, and she regretfully shook her head as she looked down. What few handouts she'd been given were rarely accompanied with cutlery, and she doubted he meant the use of a knife in martial form. Seeing people use their cutlery and knowing how was entirely different from being able to use them, too.

A spoon, however, she knew. She cupped her right hand like a bowl and used her left to scoop an invisible spoon from the bowl to her lips. She didn't look up, and immediately crossed her arms in front of her chest to hold herself -- obviously self conscious of this social shortcoming. If she were truly a pre-teen boy this might not be so terrible, but as a young adult woman it was quite embarrassing.

// Raigryn Vayd //​

 

[Raigryn Vayd]

It was a long walk back past their Inn to the inner city. Their destination was a large eating hall located near one of the busy merchant districts.

It was a step up from the dining room of their Inn. For one the long tables, despite having benches instead of chairs, had yellow cloths across them. Groups of merchants came from their city warehouses and places of business to eat here.

Whilst they weren't as formal as the nobles of Vel'anir there was a clear hierarchy. As a temporary hire and working Raigryn took them to a table near the door. He passed Fife a spare spoon he had picked up from his room. Diners were required to bring their own cutlery. He had given Fife a brief run down on formality on the way. He would order her stew followed by cake. The spoon could be wiped between courses.

As expected, a few minutes later his employer came down and invited him to a higher table to discuss business.

Gellarn Hith was a tall, wiry man. He didn't wear anything opulent, but his jet black tunic had subtle embroidery that spoke of his wealth. A long way from the merchant counsel, but his businesses were going well.

When Fife stood up too he gave Raigryn a concerned look. "And... Who is this?" he brought up a long fingeredbhand and ran it through his fading grey hair.

"My apprentice."

Gellarn's smile went thin. "Now Raigryn, of course I don't mind another at the table but I do prefer that our dealings are kept quite private."

"Fife is a mute Gellarn. He can't speak. Also can't write yet."

"Oh, excellent idea," Gellarn said as he waved them towards one end of a long table, away from anyone else. "I should find some children like that myself. Where did you get him?"

Raigryn gave the merchant a stern look. "Friend of a friend. You could always try the orphanage. Don't expect they have any mutes but always children who need work."

"Yes, yes, I know this," Gellern replied irratably. He didn't like how Raigryn held himself. Too much self respect for a simple scholar. He already had scores of children working in his warehouses by the docks. They were cheap.

 

[Fife]

Fife followed along, diligently listening to Raigryn's lesson on table manners. She combed her hair down with her fingers and took quick jogging steps to keep up with his longer strides. She was giddy and her stomach was gnawing at her spine by the time they reached their destination, both from nerves and hunger, and she peered around him to see inside.

Seeing that the tables were covered in yellow cloth, her eyes brightened. She followed Raigryn as he chose a place to sit, and she gave him a look of excitement when she was seated. She had never been inside of an establishment like this, and there was a lot to look at.

She was still gawking when the man Raigryn had come to meet arrived. He was speaking and they were standing, and Fife looked nervously between the men. She didn't much like him -- the way he spoke of her rather than to her (when she was standing right there) made her grit her teeth. She didn't have a voice, socially or physically.

Of course, she remained silent as he and Raigryn spoke, her eyes averted since she didn't trust herself not to glare at the man. Always following, she shadowed them as they were seated at a different table. Fife glanced at Raigryn as she took her seat, feeling a but vexed at the conversation. She curled her hands into fists and placed them on her thighs, keeping her head down unless spoken to. She wasn't sure what the nature of this meeting was, and was going to behave so she didn't miss the opportunity to hear it. Information was a kind of currency, in her experience. In that regard, she had a humble fortune that she could never share. It was both empowering and sad, simultaneously.

// Raigryn Vayd //​

 

[Raigryn Vayd]

They pushed through some small talk fairly easily until food arrived. Raigryn told a made up story about having gone to work in a country home for a few weeks to look after some child's poor reading skills. There was plenty of work for a man who could read and write. It was becoming increasingly popular across Arethil and business was being conducted through formal letters far more than before.

Gellern had skimmed over some recent trouble they'd had with gangs down at the docks. He didn't go into a great deal of detail into recent events. That was a mark of their respective social standings.

A bowl of stew was brought out for Fife. There wasn't much meat, and what was there was old, chewy mutton. Raigryn and Gellern shared a fish pie with a side of stewed cabbage in a cheese sauce.

It was only when they had started to eat that business was broached.

"I have some legal matters to deal with."

Raigryn listened, but his expression slightly shifted. Lawyers could almost always write or had secretaries who would be dictated to.

"I have to write a statement that will be sealed and left with a relative. I will dictate this to you personally, at my apartments." He looked to Fife. "No one else there. Only a page and any notes must be burned afterwards."

"When?" Raigryn asked.

"This evening. Four times the usual compensation due to the sensitivity of the matter."

 

[Fife]

Though she had little understanding of the natre of their relationship, Fife played close attention. She occasionally glanced up at the pair but mainly concerned herself with gawking. Their talk wasn't incredibly interesting.

At least, not until the food came. The tone shifted from casual to cryptic, and she struggled to keep her eyes from wandering up as she carefully ate her soup. She paid no mind to the quality of the fare -- it was food and not nearly as interesting as the exchange happening in front of her.

When the man indicated that this was for Raigryn alone and looked to her, Fife hastily lowered her eyes from Gallern's. Implying that she couldn't be there only made her more curious. She had assumed that Raigryn was some stuffy scholar with little experience of the world. Clearly, she had been mistaken. For a man who was doing his best to raise her up from the thieving gutter, he sure had his own hand in some suspicious stuff. Fife poked in another bite of her soup, looking up at Raigryn expectantly as she and Gallern both seemed to await his response.

// Raigryn Vayd //

 

[Raigryn Vayd]

A long time ago and doing this kind of work would have been beneath him. The conditions on this work were a ear warning that something was amiss. Yet he really needed the coin. With extra he could get himself a horse for the road this time instead of walking out to the town. Could sell it back on his return.

"I'll see you later then. Fife will come with me but I'm sure you have a private room?"

"Of course. He can eat with the servants." Gallern turned towards Fife. "Yes, the boy needs more meat on him. You'll need to feed him more Raigryn." With a wave he had another basket of bread brought over and set down.

Raigryn cast Fife a brief look and a smile. He'd told him that eating with his hands was absolutely fine, but spilling any broth onto the table cloth was considered deeply impolite. Cloth was expensive.

 

[Fife]

Raigryn agreed to meet Gallern that evening, but that she was coming, too. She had been leaned over the bowl, which was close to the edge of the table (a safety measure since she wasn't the cleanest eater), and she lowered her spoon away from her open mouth. Fife dared glance across the table at the merchant with her brows high, but quickly mastered her surprise. She put her face down and continued to eat.

She wasn't sure if she was glad she wouldn't be cooped up in the inn by herself, or if going was a bad idea. Fife didn't usually get involved in shady affairs; she was a pickpocket, and little else. Sure, she had accepted coin to run messages for the thieves' guild she'd been hoping to join, but this sounded a lot more... dangerous somehow. She wasn't sure why it gave her the creepy-crawlies. Maybe it was just the way Gallern made it seem dangerous?

Gallern's comments toward her size were fair, she thought. She was a slip of a human, small in every possible way, and it worked for her. Fife hadn't ate as much in her whole life as she had this day, and by the time the bread arrived, she felt like she was going to burst. Her look at Raigryn wasn't asking permission to eat more, but rather gauging if it would be impolite to not partake.

Deciding to play it safe, she took some bread, broke off a piece, and poked it in. She would be absolutely miserable, but she would prefer that over accidentally offending this merchant.

// Raigryn Vayd //​

 

[Raigryn Vayd]

Raigryn had chuckled on the way back to his inn. Fife had.clearly been struggling to make the way up a steep, narrow alley with a belly full of bread, stew and cake. It wasn't really all that funny when he considered that the boy had probably never been given a third of that to eat at once.

When they'd returned, he had told Fife to go and rest or to sleep it off. Raigryn had returned to his room and started to pack up his writing tools. Having eaten well himself, he decided to follow his own advice and had a brief nap.



When he opened his door to fetch his new, temporary apprentice he found Fife standing right outside with his hand raised to knock on the door.

"Need to hurry, going to be late!" he declared as he passed Fife two kilos of bastard sword. It was in its scabbard and wrapped in the straps. It was obvious he hadn't finished packing.

"Don't worry about that. He has a small estate outside the city limits. Bit of a walk as I don't have a horse and an old man and a young boy might look a good target to rob after dark on the way back."

 

[Fife]

She may have been wrong in her gamble. Fife waddled home, feeling miserable with every step. Her distended belly poked out against her tunic and it hurt to draw a full breath. She was relieved to see the inn, and even more so when Raigryn suggested she lie down and nap before the evening's activities. Without questioning him or attempting to convey any remark, Fife went to her bed and flopped onto her butt. After struggling to bed to remove her boots, she stretched onto her back and almost immediately fell asleep.

Another bad choice. Fife awoke from a terrible dream with a loud gasp and jumped out of bed. Her eyes frantically scanned the darkening room for any sign of the horrors that had plagued her sleep (however long or brief, she couldn't be sure), but saw that she was alone. She slid against the wall until she sat on the floor to catch her breath.

When she had stopped shaking, she went to the window to gauge the time. It was approaching evening, likely almost time to go. She had probably slept beyond the time to eat a third meal, but the thought of that nearly made her retch.

Not wanting to soil her pretty yellow tunic, Fife changed into the other Raigryn had purchased. It was a simple fawn brown, complementing her sable pants quite well while also being more subtle -- the yellow was too memorable and flashy. If they did get into trouble, she wanted to be able to blend into any environs.

Midway through changing, Fife adjusted her chest bindings and put the little knife she kept there into her boot. She didn't much trust anyone, least of all this Gallern fellow; having easier access to the tiny knife was merely mental reassurance. Having taken care of all of her business, Fife went to knock on Raigryn's door.

She was greeted before she could do so and immediately handed a sword. She teetered back a step in surprise, her eyes wide, her mouth dropping open, and a startled wheeze exhaling from her mute throat. It was easily almost as long as she was tall!

When she had mastered her surprise, she quickly tried to hand the thing back to him. He didn't take it, instead gathering his other gear. Fife stood in the hallway, awkwardly gripping the weapon. She had thought it would be exciting to find out what sort of harrowing adventures this man had led, not to participate in one!

Yet it would seem she had no choice. Fife only hoped this would be as simple as Gallern made it seem: Raigryn wrote some things down and they left. Easy.

// Raigryn Vayd //​

 

[Raigryn Vayd]

"Oh don't look so shocked, it's just for show. Old scribe and a kid on the road look worth robbing. Old war vet with a bastard sword and his son look worth avoiding," Raigryn scoffed.

Stopping still, he brought a hand up to the side of his head and pursed his lips. His mind had gone blank. Opening his case he double checked he had his ink, spare vellum and quills. He hated these moments where he lost focused and his thoughts scattered. It could have been age or a side effect of drawing too deeply on particular emotions. It didn't really matter which.

With a bag over his shoulders he took the sword back from Fife and carried it in one hand as he locked the door behind him.

"What we didn't get you was a warm coat. No time now, but if we have to leave late we'll borrow one from Gellern."

He took a brisk pace out of the whore door and down the streets towards the south east gate out of the outer walls. Fife was going to have to step quickly to keep up.

 

[Fife]

His logic made sense but from what she was learning about him, "old scribe" hardly seemed like his natural form. He'd said himself that he had once been a war mage, right? "War veteran" indeed. Today had been a strange day and he confused her greatly.

Fife stood patiently in the doorway and watched him gather the rest of what he needed. Raigryn seemed to have moments where he forgot what he was doing but she didn't mind if he took any longer while she got her bearings. When he at last took the sword from her and began out the back door, she reluctantly followed behind.

Darkness was descending upon Elbion early, as it did in the waning seasons, and Fife kept her eyes alert. She surveyed their surroundings as he led them out of Elbion, committing the path to memory. It wasn't that she didn't trust Raigryn, but rather than she had learned to be sure she knew where she was and where she was going before trouble arose; she wasn't about to get cornered because she hadn't been paying attention. Not again, anyways.

Being outside of the city made her nervous, with no buildings and alleyways to shelter her from the elements and other people. The autumn wind seemed to cut through her and the darkness was more foreboding somehow. Fife stayed close to Raigryn, and was glad when he indicated the estate they were traveling to when it came into sight. She didn't care how sketchy this whole ordeal was, she wanted to be indoors.

// Raigryn Vayd //​

 

[Raigryn Vayd]

Raigryn slowed right down as they approached the estate. A six foot wall surrounded the small patch of land with just one opening. With no obvious landmarks to use and the light fading he decided to unstrap his sword and tuck it against the base of the wall a few feet from the entrance.

"I think he would find it a little disconcerting if his scribe turned up with a length of steel like that," Raigryn said to Fife with a conspiratorial wink.

Stepping into the entrance he looked up at the house. It was new, two stories high. The outer walls painted white. There wasn't the land around it that a truly wealthy merchant or noble might have. Just enough gardens for a short walk.

"Have you even been this far from the city?" he asked Fife as they walked up the gravel path. He had to remind himself to turn and look for his answer.

 

[Fife]

"I think he would find it a little disconcerting if his scribe turned up with a length of steel like that," Raigryn said to Fife with a conspiratorial wink.

Fife huffed, a very sarcastic sound. A little? she thought to herself. Although, it may have made her feel better if he'd kept it on him. She took a deep breath before following him through the gate of the estate and kept pace on his left.

Responding to his question, Fife shook her head. There was no way for her to gesticulate that her whole life had been spent trying (and failing) to move deeper into the city. Being expelled by the guards had been the punishment she feared and stories of trolls and wolves and faeries had not inclined her to think well of the wilderness.

But as they walked up the short, pretty drive, she countered with her own question. She pointed to Raigryn, made a walking motion with her fingers, and waved both hands in a broad stroke. Have you been far? Fife assumed he had, but the curiosity was helping ease her mind -- a small reprieve from her worries as they approached the merchant's door.

// Raigryn Vayd //​

 

[Raigryn Vayd]

It didn't surprise him greatly. It wasn't as if the street urchins had anywhere better to go. The children almost had it better out in the countryside. There were always farms that needed to be worked in return for food and shelter. Less disease. No gangs.

"North as Elbion, West as far as the coast, through the portal stones east and into the Ixchel Wilds," he declared. There was a momentary pause. "You don't know where any of those places are do you?"

 

[Fife]

Fife didn't know what portal stones were, or where those places were, but she assumed they must have been far away. She didn't know much of anything about the world or the places and people in it; her ignorance on the matter was unsurprising and she shook her head in response to his query.

She did, however, quirk her head to the side. Her questioning expression inviting him to elaborate if so inclined. They had a bit more to walk to the door, but she also didn't really know how to politely visit someone, so she wasn't sure how much they should talk.

// Raigryn Vayd //​

 

[Raigryn Vayd]

"The world is far too big to have seen it all, but I've gone most of the way from east to west. With the help of some old magic that helps you travel long distances. I'll tell you more later." If they were back in time the small fireplace at their inn was the right place for stories.

There was a heavy brass knocker on a door that must have been ten feet high. It was very fashionable to built floors much higher than they needed to be. Decorating high ceilings in light colours was becoming a show of wealth. There had been times when Raigryn wouldn't have even given a merchant of Gellern's standing the time of day.

A manservant opened the door, gruffly telling them both they were expected. He was broad across the shoulders, a scar tugged at his top lip. Raigryn would have put money on him having been a sergeant somewhere. The kind of man who could knock servants into line and protect the homestead.

"Shelly!" he called out. An older woman in aprons arrived from a side door. Ahead of them was a grand staircase with a large painting of the owner facing the door.

"Oh yes, what's your name now?" Shelly said to Fife.

"He's Fife, he doesn't talk."

"Oh, yes, master said. Come on then, we've still got leftovers and wine below."

Fife was led down the stairs to a different world. Bare stone, low ceilings instead if polished wood and bright paint. Pipe smoke and servants eating after the main meal had been served.

Raigryn was led upstairs to a study. Gellern had a bottle of wine open and was going through some papers. His hand faintly trembled as he shook Raigryn's hand.

 

[Fife]

How big was the world, she wondered? She imagined it was quite large, so traveling such a distance would naturally be an impressive feat. However, without having ever actually left this singular city, trying to grasp the scope of it was beyond her capability.

Satisfied with his promise to tell her more later, she refrained from any further questions. She used the remainder of their short, brisk walk to instead give the gardens and home one last thorough, sweeping look. She tried to commit a mental image of where the windows were, greenery, heights -- anything she could glean from the exterior of this estate. Fife wasn't as easily pacified by whatever coin Raigryn was being compensated for this delicate task -- she wasn't sure she trusted a merchant as skinny as Gallern.

As flawed as her logic was, she was doubly glad when they entered and the woman immediately began to usher Fife away. She cast one distressed look at Raigryn, but he waved her on and she reluctantly trailed behind the stranger. Shelly, the big guy had said?

Whoever she was, she led Fife to more familiar territory. She assumed, by what she saw, that this was where the servants took their breaks and worked. The air was flavored with tobacco, sweat, and leftovers, and the room was more practically built than the room they'd entered into.

Shelly was kind enough, sitting Fife down between a tired looking man and teenage boy before fetching her a plate, spoon, and cup. The man beside her was falling asleep with his pipe in his mouth, teetering forward periodically before jerking upright once more and ignoring the gruff conversation of the man across from him. It was the teenage boy who attempted to speak to Fife.

"Eh? What's this? Company at this hour? Who are you?"

Fife looked around. Shelly had abandoned her, which left her to fend for herself. Fife touched her lips, then her throat, and shook her head. The teen frowned at her then looked about, presumably for Shelly, who had already left their sight. He muttered something to himself about the woman before turning back to Fife.

"You didn't come with horses, did you? Master won't like us dallyin' around with the meal when there's work to do." Fife shook her head, which seemed to pacify the boy's mood.

Boy was hardly a fair term. He was likely near the same age as her, though his patchy stubble suggested he might have been a few years her minor. Ironic, given her appearance.

The meal had mostly been picked through already, but she wasn't too hungry after her other two large meals in that same day. The fare was of no consequence to Fife, as it was better than rotten waste. She nibbled at a small helping of food, and sipped at a very modest splash of wine. It wasted awful and made her body warm and tingly, but it would help settle her nerves.

// Raigryn Vayd //​

 

[Raigryn Vayd]

"Sit," Gellern instructed, keeping his back to Raigryn. He moved to the writing desk that he always used here. It was a cabinet but when the small handle at the top was pulled it folded out into a writing surface. It was all smooth mahogony, inlaid with a burgundy leather and brass trim. It likely cost more than Raigryn could make in a year now.

Pulling the length of string around the pins on the front of his box of tools to undo it, Raigryn lifted the lid. He set out ink and quills before him. With a sharp knife he refined the point of a quill and declared that he was ready.

"Good," said the merchant, his voice cracking. "Don't interrupt, don't ask questions. I'm going to dictate and you will record word for word."

"I understand," Raigryn replied. He dipped his quill and let the excess ink drip from the tip. "Please."

"In the event of my untimely death I wish to accuse..."

 

[Fife]

Being mute wasn't pleasant or easy or fun, but (in Fife's experience) had its advantages. She was left alone to nibble at her meal in peace as the household staff went on around her. The teen ate his meal without speaking to her again, and the gruff man continued to prattle on about the cost of iron and grain to the man who was still very clearly falling asleep.

She looked around and watched a few others present. A woman pretty as a brown hen was rolling out bread, working around the curve of her expectant belly. An elderly man with whispy white chops like clouds carried in a sack of something that looked to be half his body weight, yet he wielded it with ease across the room to where the kitchen stores were organized. The broad manservant who had greeted them appeared and had a word with Shelly, who wiped her hands clean on her aprons from the task of washing root vegetables.

It was so domestic and normal, and Fife had rarely seen a glimpse of a life such as this. Her eyes scanned the room as she absently poked food into her mouth, her penchant for people-watching abating any anxiety over her presence in this estate.

// Raigryn Vayd //​

 

[Raigryn Vayd]

"Come lad, its time to go."

Raigryn had barely made a sound as he walked halfway down the stairs. There was a brief sense of panic before the staff saw from whom the unfamiliar voice had come. A scribe was a professional, but not so high that he could not walk down in the servants floor.

There was something considerably more somber about his expression. He waved for Fife to follow and headed back up the stairs before he could reply.

By the time he caught up to Raigryn he had his coat back on and offered her a plain jacket he had been lent. Something one of the servants had grown out of. He was wordless as they were shown out of the door and made their way up the gravel path. Right until he had his sword over his shoulder and they had some distance between themselves and the house. It's lit windows now clear in the late evening darkness.

"Ever hear of the Holt family?" he asked Fife. "Even if you haven't, on the streets someone you might have known would have reported to someone who reported to a Holt. Well know family with legitimate business interests. And illegal ones."

 

[Fife]

She wasn't aware of how long she spent observing the servants of this house, but jerked in surprise when she heard Raigryn's voice calling her from the steps behind them. She spun to see him giving them all a cursory look and gesturing for her to follow before turning wordlessly to move back upstairs. Without wasting time, she stood up from the table and hurried after him. She came out of the stairwell into the hallway and he was already in his coat and holding one for her to take. It was a decent fit for her and a nice green color.

Raigryn was silent and serious as they left. Fife wondered to herself if she had done something wrong, perhaps staying to long below when he had been ready to go. When he spoke, she still wasn't sure if the fault for his mood was her own.

But his words were indeed cause for concern. Her breath hitched and she cast him a worried look that should have been all the proof he needed that she indeed knew the name. Still, she nodded to confirm that she had indeed heard of the name.

Fife had been one of the lucky ones, she supposed. She got by for years on pickpocketing and scrounging up what she needed from back alleys and rubbish. Only a handful of times had she been as desperate as this year, and on a few of those occasions she had carried messages for the various underground guilds and organizations. She'd delivered to Holt agents twice, several years apart, and was fortunate enough to leave with her life both times. There were plenty of stories where messengers weren't so lucky.

So why was he asking about them? Was this about her, or about the business he had with Gallern?

Fife waited until he finished speaking and began to sign to him. She pointed away from them with the wave of her hand, then drew her hand across her throat. They are dangerous. Pausing only a moment to frown at him, she shook her head again while tapping over her heart, and waved her index finger again. Don't trust them.

// Raigryn Vayd //​

 

[Raigryn Vayd]

It was quite obvious that she knew of the family. Raigryn didn't keep track of who owned which parts of the city's underworld. Many minor nobles and wealthy merchants controlled large criminal organisations. The line between criminal and powerful was very fine. Kids caught stealing were punished hard, but the wealthy could get away with a lot.

Unless they rubbed certain people the wrong way. Baron Escavenn had murdered his own brother. His brother had made friends with certain people. The baron had been tortured to death in public. The worst punishments were reserved for when a noble or a member of a church was convicted.

Raigryn assumed her last gesture had been to tell him that she held no love for their group. At least she hadn't been a member. He didn't have time to confirm. Horses were approaching. They couldn't go running from every sound in the night but they hadn't rejoined the main road.

Grabbing Fife's shoulder, he steered the boy off the beaten path. It was too late.

"Who is that?" came a voice. Raigryn stood still and watched as just two horses emerged from the darkness. Their riders were armed.

"Who asks?" he called out. Silence fell.