Arbitheon

Thieves and Turmoil

“Life is for living, do as you will. Only be sure to survive the doing. Stand well off the slimy slant to surcease.”

from the sayings of the Rangers of Kon, undated

She landed on one foot in the sewer tunnel, her other foot already reaching for the next step. She was running fast – finally in her element. She could have lost herself in the crowded market. Changed her appearance. But nothing beat pure flight. So many clever thieves were caught. Just run! Fast! With each step, her inner voice rang out in cadence with her and Zam's creed, Clever is caught, running is not.

Cle-ver-is-caught, turn the corner, run-ning-is-not. Her footsteps splashed the beat.

She heard shouts behind her, angry and shrill. The man and woman were calling for the watch with cries of "Thief! Thief!" Glancing down at the necklace she was holding, she wondered why – no watchman would be seen wearing something so dainty. She grinned to herself while gracefully taking Slipwreck Corner in a spray of muck and then sidling by the grate that often sluiced off the slurry from Yinko's tannery. Getting soaked in that nastiness was a mistake only ever made once.

Two turns later, she stopped and listened. The watch wouldn't chase her down here, she was sure. Unless the old couple were some grand nobs that had sway. Then they might. Never get her, of course. Sewers never favored the watch. Even she had to slightly stoop the whole way, and the tall men of the watch would have it far worse. She likely didn't need to keep running. And it was always good to find the Bastards with an air of indifference – reputation masked much in this game.

She didn't hear any pursuit. So, just some nobodies with money. Coin-warmers. Perfect. And if they didn't quite catch her face – and she doubted they did, as she would have been a flash before their eyes – they wouldn't be able to describe her, either. That was it done then, coins for her pouch once she got it to Finni.

She stuffed the necklace into the inside pocket of her breeches. The rest of her trip back to the Warren was leisurely – relative to Cagna, whom no one thought of as leisureful. She climbed out of the sewers up to Ratdrip Alley. Her boots attested the name, leaving a trail of slime. Smeared with tallow against the muck, though, they always kept her feet dry through the tunnels, except on rainy days.

There were people there, walking between the buildings, but if they noted her, they betrayed nothing. Eyes forward. That was the way. Common sight, this. She weaved between and through the press, out into the main street with the rest of the poor muckers trying to find a quick copper, and then down several streets, past the burgages of shops and tenements, to Clampers Way – another alley. Unless they'd moved, she'd find the Bastards here.

A few feet in, a lanky kid with a greasy mop was chewing on an apple – a pocked and unhealthy-looking apple. He was sitting on a three-legged stool too short for him. And on catching sight of her entering the alley, he popped up and barred her way, one arm stretched out lazily.

"What brings ya, Cag? Got something for me, do ya?"

"Oh, Barn... someday I'll have something for you." She blew him a kiss. "But I gotta see Finni. I got something for him today."

"Aw, he always gets it from ya, don' 'e?" He was looking down her lithe body appreciatively, resentfully, hopefully.

She suppressed a shudder. Good kid, but oh so foul. "Naw, I'm only yours, Barn. Can I see him?"

"Yeah, yeah, but one day, you and me... we goin' ta take on the town. I'll take you to the Inda, if you want. I'll have the money soon. Promise. Wha' ya say?"

She was already past him. She turned back and gave him a full and exaggerated look up and down. He puffed out his chest and stood up straight. "You'll need a bath, first." She giggled with affection in her voice. She left him standing there, pining.