Disciples & Deceivers - Chapter 1: Infiltration

Here's something I'd contemplated putting up since I started the blog. It comes from something that I started writing many years ago. It's in a slightly different form (and the characters have changed a bit) from my original plan, though that's very much to be expected.

Firstly, I'll warn you that this is longer than previous posts. The chapter itself clocks in at 7,405 words, so it's a little bit of a read.

I'll also say that this part was written right at the start of the process, so some of it is a little rough around the edges. I come from the biased position of having written it and designed the world, so I like my characters and setting, which of course affects my opinion of the piece. But, if you think this chapter is good, then I think I can safely say that you'll like each subsequent chapter more.

One thing this particular chapter could definitely do with is a map. Sorry, it's not supplied - maybe at a later date if I get my hands on a scanner or tackle drawing one with a mouse.

If you're interested in reading more of this, post comments and let me know, or even better, do that & tell other people to do the same! Without comments, I don't know if you're reading, and I don't know what you like or don't like!

A stealthy silhouette stalked almost invisibly through a well-tended and healthy garden. Anyone that actually managed to glimpse the shadow would immediately know that its owner was not supposed to be there. It paused as the rocks in the path crunched loudly in the relative silence of the night, and a guard walked through the garden searching for any intruder to the premises of his employer. Looking around as he walked the garden, the guard saw or heard no sign of anyone or anything in the garden apart from trees that were dimly illuminated in the poor lighting given off by the lone lantern in the courtyard. He gazed about with a watchful eye for a few moments, and then walked out of the garden through a stone archway.

A shot of lightning shattered the air, its brief flash illuminating the face of T’shar, the unwelcome visitor. Her gaunt features winced at the light, the paleness of her bleached skin amplified by the thunderous white flicker. She bore the pure hallmarks of the Deln race, her sallow skin, fingernails of metallic hardness and a face only considered repulsive by human standards. The features on her face appeared to be held by razor thin wires beneath her skin, which itself appeared as though it had been stretched across those lines with great protest.

T’shar glanced cautiously around the darkened garden before moving, her eyes darting back and forth searching for any sign of life or movement before moving herself. She moved in the opposite direction to the guard, heading towards the rear of the house, and kept a shrub or tree between her and the lantern at all times. T’shar hugged the darkness tightly as she knew that another guard would soon come through to the garden, and that her life depended on her remaining completely concealed.

The sudden scrunching noise of a boot signalled the approach of another guard, forcing T’shar to freeze halfway through mid-step as the sound came loudly to her ears. Only her keen hearing allowed her to hear the noise over the heavy rain, which in its ferocity drowned out most other sounds. She slowly put her foot to the ground in silence, despite the cover the storm gave, her leather boot making not even the slightest sound as the guard continued to crunch the dirt and rocks in the garden path underneath his feet. The guard appeared uneasy and stepped warily through the garden, the palm of his hand hovering just away the hilt of his sword, though his expression was that of a person

T’shar found his unease somewhat amusing, given that the building he was guarding was probably one of the most heavily guarded and thus least likely to be burgled in Brynmere. But his unease merely served to remind T’shar of what a dangerous job she was currently undertaking. Nevertheless, the risk was more than equalled by her payment upon completion of the task, because her employer knew of the difficulty in getting inside and that T’shar was one of the few professional people that had the ability and willingness to do so.

Moving warily towards the cobbled backyard, T’shar became an imperceptible shadow, slow but decided in her steps towards her entry point. This would likely be one of the most dangerous moments of the job. The stone paved backyard would be harder to steal across soundlessly than ordinary grass, and there were two watchtowers with guards posted all night, to keep sentry for the doors that provided entry into the mansion proper by watching the courtyard and the rest of the grounds visible from the towers.

These doors were not where she wanted to enter, but she had to pass through the courtyard to the other side of the mansion, which was where she planned to enter building. There was no way to gain access the mansion grounds from that side, the empty space that was home to a market was open and frequently patrolled by city guards, making getting over the wall into the grounds without being noticed virtually impossible. This had forced her current plan of action; she had come in the only viable entry point, leaping from the top of a nearby building on this side of the mansion.

The only doors on ground level to the mansion were located at the front and the rear of the building, and both were heavily guarded, which prevented T’shar gaining access through them. The building had three balconies, two of which were on the first level of the structure, one leading from the room that the noble used to entertain his guests, and T’shar’s point of entry, which was located on a small balcony on the edge of the library. Since the library was on the far side of the house, she had to either cross through the guardhouse at the front or the courtyard at the rear, and she had not needed to waste any time in deciding to avoid the guardhouse. The third balcony came from the master bedroom, but T’shar had counted it too risky to climb that distance for fear of being seen, either by guards due to the distance or by the owner and any of his guests given its close proximity to the balcony on the first floor.

T’shar waited as the next guard moved past and stepped closer towards the short archway signalling the start of the stone paved courtyard. With her body pressed fully against stone wall, she turned her head sideways and leaned slightly to her right, pushing her face past the edge of the archway and looking frantically with her eyes.

Just as the rough plan of the building she had acquired indicated, the nearest watchtower was out of her sight, leaving her with no idea of where that guard was looking. However, she would be out of sight of the guard in that watchtower as she entered the courtyard, the wall that was the walkway to the tower would block his line of sight to her. There were several ornamental statues and a moderately sized pool located in the area, but they would scarcely provide cover for a bird let alone her. Fortunately, torches adorning the walls were infrequent, leaving small patches of shadow that would provide cover that she considered less than adequate, but had to suffice in these circumstances

T’shar pulled the cord holding her blackened hood tighter, tying it forcefully so its fabric pressed against her head, ensuring it covered her blue hair. She had often cursed her father for ‘gifting’ her with such a bright and distinctive hair colour, for it attracted far more attention to her than she ever desired. She had often wished to change its colour, but had found any sort of permanent solution to be prohibitive in both its expense and maintenance. Many of the treatments she had tried had been ineffective, and her last had been quite painful. She made do with her almost omnipresent hood, something she never left behind whenever she was involved in anything to do with her work. Despite the fact the hood attracted some interest in its presence, she had found it to be far less than that given to her blue hair, and its inclusion on any job was unquestioned, as was the rest of her entirely black, form-fitting outfit.

She withdrew back around the archway, and took several steps left into the shadow to conceal herself as another guard walked past. As she soon as she was not visible to his peripheral vision, she stepped back towards the archway. Leaning back around, she stared at the guard in the far watchtower, who seemed to be looking directly back at her. She waited for the guard to turn his attention to something else, but the guard appeared to be staring straight at her. T’shar felt her heart pounding against her ribs, fearing that the guard could actually see her, or at least see something and was about to shout out for another guard to investigate.

More time passed, and T’shar had to retreat back around the archway as another guard walked by, though she nearly had not heard his approach, his footsteps masked as a peal of thunder boomed loudly. The guard seemed unshakeable in his attention, never moving his gaze from the archway. Several more guards passed, and T’shar breathed slowly and deliberately to calm her nerves. She stared right at the guard, willing him to shift his gaze, to glance in another direction. Her whole body was ready to move around the archway and into the courtyard in the split second that he looked away. T’shar heard the steps of the next guard and prepared to again move away from the archway.

Light coming into the archway made it obvious that there was a torch just to the right of the other end. She would have to run past it to get to the first patch of shadow in which she could hide, and she would have to move quickly to avoid being seen by the constant watch of the guard in the far tower. Just as she prepared to step away from the archway the guard shifted his gaze. T’shar pounced around the corner instinctively, knowing that it may be her only chance to get into the courtyard. The next patrolling guard would not be far away, but T’shar had to hope that he was not looking in her direction. She hated to leave it to chance, but she had no guarantee she would get another opportunity to enter the courtyard.

Her feet made only the slightest whisper as she sped along the stones, quickly reaching the end of the hallway, where she glanced to her left where she knew the next guard would be, who was thankfully looking in the other direction. T’shar shifted her brown eyes to look back at the watchtower, and dived to her right so that her body passed underneath the torch on the wall. She twisted her body so that her hands hit the ground just marginally before her feet, so she landed soundlessly into and patch of dim light.

T’shar glanced up at the guard in the watchtower, who again appeared to be looking directly at her. If he had not seen her, it would not be too difficult for her to avoid being seen by him as she moved around the courtyard, but if he had seen her, then she would barely have even the slightest chance to escape. T’shar held her breath for what seemed like an eternity before the guard walked out of sight and the watchman resumed his vigil upon the archway. T’shar exhaled silently in great relief, and began to carefully proceed around the courtyard.

Reaching the other side of the far archway, T’shar could see balcony through which she would enter the mansion. Since the unguarded balcony came off the library, also a place not frequented by guards, it made for a relatively easy entrance into the building. T’shar stood under the balcony and swung one end of the thin rope she had concealed on her briefly over her head before releasing it to hook around one of the pillars that made up the railing of the balcony.

She pulled down on the end of the rope, and glancing around for any guards, quickly climbed up the rope wrapped around the pillar. T’shar paused momentarily as she crouched on the balcony to conceal the rope underneath her clothing. She moved quietly to the door, hunched down so she could not be seen from below.

Holding at the door, she glanced at the lock briefly before moving her fingers to the hole. One thing she always felt gave her an advantage over any of her competition was that of her Deln heritage, as she considered her fingernails almost her most prized asset. Her metal-hard fingernails were filed and cut as lockpicks, and it took only a few brief moments of wriggling and twisting her fingers before the lock gave a soft, sharp click and T’shar turned the handle. She gave a brief smile in the darkness, content that the door, like most others, was naught but easy pickings for her guile and skill.

A quick glance ensuring that no one was in the immediate area was all the assurance T’shar needed before she opened the door and darted inside. Shutting the door, T’shar stood still as she pulled a small cloth from a tightly sealed wooden container. There was a small puddle forming on the floor in the library, a telltale sign that someone had entered the room from the balcony in the rain.

T’shar was reasonably dry, her leather outfit being made out of a specialised type of leather that was both supple yet hard, and while it had cost her quite a sum of money to purchase, it was invaluable in that absorbed very little water, forcing the rain to run off the fabric. It was this priceless quality that kept the size of the puddle she was now standing in small, and T’shar quickly wiped it up with the cloth she held in her hands. She gave her clothes a brief wipe before placing the cloth back inside its container.

Having cleaned the point of her intrusion, T’shar took stock of the room she was standing in. This part of the library was quite open, and if someone were to come in through the door on the opposite side of the room, she would be instantly spotted. Not wishing to tempt fate, T’shar ran forwards and to the right where there were several rows of bookcases stacked with books.

T’shar skimmed over an occasional volume as she moved through the shelves, looking for any trading records. The three bookshelves lined parallel to the inside and outside doors contained nothing useful, so T’shar crossed the room where two bookshelves were placed at right angles to the doors, leaving a small gap between the wall on inside wall where the library continued. Looking down at the crudely drawn map she had received from her contact, T’shar guessed that the stairs to the upper library were behind them.

As T’shar hurried past the doorway, she heard the muffled sounds of footsteps, and she instinctively knew that their owner was headed for the library. T’shar rushed behind the two bookcases, and silently swore as she saw the large flight of wooden stairs leading upwards. There was no place to hide anywhere in the small library, so having no alternatives, T’shar had to run up the stairs, hoping that the door and the other person’s footsteps would cover her own as the made her way up the wooden steps.

T’shar’s soft leather boots slightly deadened the noise as she quickly climbed the stairs, mounting two steps with each pace, trying to balance both the need for stealth and speed. She heard the door open as she was nearly to the top of the stairs, but did not turn to look behind, knowing that the staircase was virtually concealed from the rest of the library by the two bookcases placed perpendicular to the outside wall.

Making a decided effort for silence, T’shar leapt upwards to try and clear the staircase completely. She stretched out her right foot in front of her, careful not to put it too far forward for she knew she could over balance when she landed and fall backwards. The ball of her foot landed awkwardly past the top of the stairs, and she felt her balance disappear as her ankle twisted painfully. Her body began to fall sideways and backward at the same time and T’shar clamped her lips shut as she saw a small vase at the top of the stairs that was directly in her path. Fear suddenly gripped her as she realised her endeavour to remain totally silent could result in exactly the opposite effect, as even a glancing blow to the vase would knock it over and attract the attention of the guard below.

Unable to throw her body backward without falling noisily on the wooden stairs, T’shar shoved her left arm across and down her body as she rolled forwards. As the palm of her left hand hit the ground, T’shar’s arm jarred violently, and she felt a burning pain in her elbow. Still keeping her mouth tightly clamped, T’shar used the jolt to roll her body further forwards, landing almost soundlessly on the stone floor as she snapped her head up to avoid hitting it against the floor, and coming to rest barely a breath away from the vase at the top of the stairs.

T’shar forced herself upwards, getting onto her feet in a smooth motion and quickly moving away from the top of the stairs. She spotted a desk on the far side of the library, and made her way towards it, cautiously looking back every few steps to see if whoever had entered the library had heard her, but then realising that she would hear them coming up the stairs. She ducked underneath the desk just as she heard the first footstep on the wooden boards.

T’shar could barely swallow as she waited for the person to come up the stairs. Wondering whether the person had heard her, she struggled to force herself to remain calm, shutting her eyes and concentrating on her breathing momentarily before opening her eyes again and removing a throwing knife from a sheath on her arm. T’shar disliked using the knives, but in her current situation she had little choice, though she had readied it only as a precaution. Considering herself a professional thief, she preferred not to be seen at all, though she was on occasion forced to knock someone unconscious with her blackjack, a small leather bag filled with sand and lead, by using it to administer a blow to the head or back of the neck. The mark of a true professional, she thought, is a thief who gets in and out of a building without anyone even realising they were there until whatever it was they’ve stolen is noticed missing.

With the footsteps on wood being the only sound to be heard, her heart skipped a beat as she saw the head of a guard bob upwards from the staircase. She moved slightly in discomfort, her ankle and elbow still smarting from their respective injuries, but she dared not shift more than the smallest distance to avoid making any sort of noise. The guard took a few more steps up the stairs and stopped on the staircase, turning around and pausing a moment to look around the room, before slowly walking back down the stairs again.

Only when the guard shut the door below to the library noisily did T’shar get out from underneath her hiding spot to continue her search of the library. She guessed that the guard had spent several minutes searching in the main library before leaving, which she found a little unnerving, for it seemed a rather long time to spend in such a small area. He had however spent little time looking upstairs where she had been hiding, so she thought it quite safe to assume whatever curiosity he had was satiated. The pain of twisting her ankle had faded, though her elbow was still causing her a little discomfort. She shook her arm and then flexed it, content that no permanent damage had been done.

Glancing at the bookshelf near the desk she had been hiding under, she noticed that the shelf was full of stacks of paper, some bound together with string and some sitting loosely. She grabbed a handful from the left of the shelf and flicked through them. The records were old and detailed purchase of furniture and other various items. Putting them back in their place, she moved along a leafed through some more. Records of donations to and from various people or churches or such were listed in the pile she currently had.

T’shar moved along the bookcase finding various financial or other records, detailing agreements, purchases, sales or donations, but nothing that was even slightly illegal. She swore in frustration, as she seemingly was not going to find anything that could possibly be used to link him to the illegal operation that she knew he was involved in. T’shar would get paid good money for completing the job, but it seemed that she was going to have to earn it the hard way. She had anticipated that this would be the case, but she had hoped that for once the noble she had to steal from was as incompetent as the people he employed or the people that she was forced to work with.

A large smile crept onto T’shar face as she noticed several entries marked only as ‘donation’ in the set of notes she was looking at. She grabbed the next set and noticed the same amounts unmarked as well. While such discrepancies were not proof of anything illegal, now T’shar was certain she would find the evidence she needed somewhere else. Flicking through the last pages of the set she had, she noted more ‘donations’, with significant amounts of gold being paid every Midweek.

“Ah, Count Relkan,” she said, “it looks like you’ve made the acquaintance of some expensive friends.” Count Relkan was not known for generosity to anyone, let alone to somewhere like a church that would be considered a ‘donation’. She reached the last set of papers on the shelf, and leafed through to find the ‘donations’ made Midweek had increased in the past three weeks. T’shar frowned in thought. Guards accepting bribes were not usually in a position to request that sort of increase for their continued complacency, at least not without expecting to end up dead or discovered to be accepting bribes.

The only other possibility that presented itself as a viable alternative was that of blackmail, though that was risky, and T’shar could not work out who could be blackmailing Relkan and for what reason. T’shar shook her head and put the papers back; whoever was blackmailing the noble and for what reason was none of her business, all she had to do was retrieve evidence that he was doing something illegal.

Carefully the volumes she had been inspecting were placed back on their rightful locations, her near infallible memory and meticulous attention to detail ensuring that they were as if she had never removed them. Heading back down to the main level of the library as silent as her shadow, she became somewhat anxious and annoyed as she heard more footsteps approaching the library. The casual conversation that accompanied them let her know that it was not a guard, but merely a couple of ordinary people, likely servants or guests. However, that was not to say they presented any less of a potential hazard to her job, they could just as easily shout an alarm to quickly send the entire guard racing.

T’shar quickly darted across the doorway to the safety of the shadowy corner in the far side of the room. Here she would be difficult to spot, and at least have the advantage of being initially hidden by the door, as well having the potential to avoid detection entirely should the people decide to enter the library. The rough and casual language of the conversation indicated that the pair were indeed only servants, which meant the chances of their entering the library were slim at best. Her tension was allayed as the voices faded, and T’shar promptly crept towards the door leading to the main indoors of the building.

Slowly and carefully putting pressure on the handle to turn it in silence, she opened the door and pulled it slightly ajar, giving her a good look down the hallway to the right of the library. Seeing the hall empty, as she had suspected and hoped it would be, she flashed out into the walkway and closed the door behind her, delicately placing her hand so that no noise issued when it shut.

The door at the right of the hall was shut, and from T’shar’s map, it led to the dining area. The two servants on her left were carrying empty trays; presumably they had just delivered some food to whoever was in the dining room. T’shar nodded and smiled appreciatively, although it was somewhat late, the owner of the house and whatever company he had were still eating, which she surmised would give her plenty of time to examine his belongings before he returned. It was a piece of good fortune that she had not expected, but it was one that she welcomed gladly.

Heading in the same direction as the servants, who had now descended some stairs, T’shar moved with pace but making sure that she maintained absolute silence, as now that she was inside, the rage of the storm seemed marginally faded, but more notable was the fact that it did very little to mask any other noise. However, she knew her noiseless movement would be little good should anyone enter the hallway, as the regular placed oil lanterns placed on the walls illuminated the hall quite brightly, leaving her with no place to hide from their sight.

As she neared the stairs the two servants had walked down, she heard the familiar sound of a guard walking, the volume and direction of the slight metallic clink signalling their presence from the same stairway. T’shar quickly put her head around the corner of the hallway she had reached, only to see another guard walking towards her from that direction. T’shar drew in a sharp breath as she bit her upper lip, then turned around and ran back towards the far end of the hall.

The next passage leading off the hallway was past the library, but T’shar doubted that she could open and close the door as quickly as she would need to in order to stay out of sight and make certain that it was soundless. She passed the door, and rounded the corner without even pausing to check to see if it was unoccupied, but merely sidestepped around, knowing that if she did not she would be spotted in a moment anyway.

The passageway led to the main staircase between the first and second floor, a grandiose and extravagant circular stairway that was carpeted in a fine, sandy coloured cloth that contrasted with the deep, dark brown of the oak that it was constructed from. This area, just like the entire of the inside of the mansion was also bathed in light from the frequent lanterns that T’shar wished she could put out to plunge the building into the darkness that aided her skills so well. She knew such an action would only attract more attention, however, so she put that thought out of her mind, silently chiding herself for losing concentration, albeit momentarily.

T’shar glanced down the hallway she had ran up, and watched as the guard walked up the stairway. He took a brief glance to the left as he walked along the hallway, and T’shar pressed her eyes closed as she furrowed her forehead, trying to remember her map. After a moment, T’shar’s memory clicked and she snapped her eyes open, recalling the set of stairs that led to the top level. The guard continued walking, and turned left down the hallway T’shar had meant to head down before she had heard his approach.

Seeing him turn, T’shar swiftly skulked towards the staircase in the centre of the building, and putting her head fleetingly around the corner, bit her upper lip again as she saw the other guard walking towards her. Doing an about-face, T’shar moved back down the first hallway again, passing by the library once more. She glanced down the hallway and moved towards the stairs leading to the third floor when she heard more footsteps from the downward stairs. T’shar’s mind reeled silently with curses, as anyone coming up the stairs would see or hear her almost immediately if she tried to climb the other staircase leading upwards to the topmost floor.

Being unable to retreat back the way she came due to the approaching guard, she had no choice but to follow the guard who had previously come up the stairs down the hallway to her right. The guard was some distance along the hall now, so she could safely shadow him, but dreaded the fact that should she be spotted, she would currently have to get past at least one person in the reasonably narrow hallway to escape. Even though T’shar disliked open combat, she was still quite skilled, but fighting a well-trained guard with any adversary approaching from behind her and more enemies imminent was a situation in which she thought she would have only a moderate chance of success if she were fortunate.

Following a safe distance behind the guard, T’shar was willing the man to move faster, knowing that it would not be long before either of the other guards on the floor reached the junction of the two hallways. The guard had just passed another junction in the hallway they were in, and T’shar, picturing the map in her mind, knew that it also led to the central spiral staircase. Once the guard had put some distance between himself and the passage, T’shar ducked into the open room, and watched as a guard walked towards the set of staircases.

Since the other guard had not come into view, T’shar realised that he must have walked up the stairs to the third floor. Scowling in irritation, T’shar knew she now had to wait for that guard to come down from the upper level before she could climb the stairs, as there were only two straight hallways on that level, giving her no way of getting up there without being noticed by a guard patrolling it.

A door opened and closed, and T’shar looked around the corner to see that the guard she had been following had gone outside, using the door near the end of the hallway to get onto the top of the walls outside. Taking full advantage of the rare opportunity of having no guards in close proximity, she hopped out in the hallway and proceeded in that direction, as there was another set of stairs leading to the third level at the end of the hall.

The stairs were preceded by a hallway leading to the right, nearly opposite the door that led to the top of the walls outside. Needing a hiding place, and knowing that walking through the outside door was not even a remotely intelligent or feasible course of action, T’shar turned down the hallway to look for a room to disappear into. She guessed that the guard currently on the upper level would come down the stairs soon, so taking what time she had, put her ear against the door she now stood next to, listening intently for any sound to indicate the presence of someone inside the room. Hearing nothing but her own soft breathing and loudly beating heart, T’shar opened the door and slipped through the small opening.

The room she had entered was a bathroom, and while it left nowhere to hide at all, the guard would not come in here, so the only possibility for discovery was that by a guest, since the owner of the house had his own bathroom and toilet leading off the master bedroom. T’shar relaxed slightly for a second, taking the short period of respite to concentrate on her breathing, taking slow and deep breaths to take control of her tense nerves. While some anxious tension and fear helped keep her focussed and alert, too much served only to incite desperate and frantic decisions, and often resulted in an incorrect decision, and unfortunately in her line of work, such decisions resulted in death more frequently than not.

Feeling her quickened heartbeat slow a fraction, T’shar pressed her head against the door again; this time listening for the audible clues that would tell her the guard had come down from the top level. Though the guard would likely not walk directly in front of the door, it was not far from the other hallway, so T’shar would be able to hear when he had proceeded beyond her hiding place.

After a short wait, T’shar heard the muffled scuffing of feet, and then heard the noise fade again, and took that as her cue to exit the bathroom. Closing the door silently, T’shar walked towards the stairs with decided purpose, relieved to get her opportunity to continue upstairs. She almost half expected for the door leading outside to open and force her to either run down the hallway or back into the bathroom, given the torrid time she had been having with avoiding guards so far during the night, but she reached and climbed the stairs without further incident.

The hallway in the top level was straight, with only one passageway off to the left, leading to the master bedroom. There was nothing in there that was of real interest to T’shar, as her destination was the study, whose entry lay through the door on the left on the hallway she was currently in.

Moving quickly to reach the room before any more guards came upstairs; she stopped at the door and tried the handle to find it locked. She had expected this, so crouched down and manipulated her fingers precisely to work the lock. She winced slightly as the lock refused to give and she twisted the middle finger on her right hand, the manicured hook of her fingernail getting caught in the mechanism, ripping the skin attaching it to her finger slightly and causing a small smear of blood to form at the surface.

Her heartbeat thumped loudly in her chest as a small shred of panic rose in her mind, and she struggled to keep her fingers steady as she hastily worked the lock, desperate to open the door and get inside the study before another guard could come along and discover her. A sharp click let her know that she was making progress, but she noticed that a small droplet of blood was forming around her joint, and would soon drip. Her professional desire to leave little or no trace of her presence overwhelmed the urgency of getting into the study, and she tilted her head to suck the crimson liquid to prevent it from leaving even the most miniscule drop on the floor. Content she was not going to leave any mark, she twitched her right hand, and hearing another click, a softer, grinding sound this time, she held her fingers in place, and used her chin to turn the handle and push the door barely ajar.

With the door open, T’shar pulled her fingers away, her lockpick fingernails sliding smoothly out of the lock mechanism, which responded with more metallic clicking. She looked at her sore finger, and a brief examination left her confident no real harm had been done, and the congealed blood told her that she would not have to worry about further drops potentially leaving any telltale stain to signify her passing. Her eyes darted left and right, her brown orbs making a quick and careful search before she eased into the room and shut the door behind her.

The study was moderate in size, and kept in what seemed like meticulous order and tidiness. A large wall cabinet dominated the wall to T’shar’s right, several leather-bound volumes sitting upon it, and presumably more were inside the hinged doors. The far wall had a small desk in front of it, a pair of candles sitting on either of the back corners, and an ornately carved wooden chair underneath. The large bronze sculpted head of a dragon nested just above the marble mantle of the amply sized fireplace that occupied the left hand wall. It seemed as though it had not been used for some time or even at all, as the inside was clean and uncharred by the black stain that was characteristic of such a fireplace.

The centrepiece of the room was positioned on another ornamentally carved piece of wood, this time a stand made to look like several curving wooden pillars, with a protective shield of glass shielding the work inside. A superbly crafted golden statuette was placed within the glass, the features of a fine and elegant horse exquisite in their delicately fashioned detail. The artisan responsible had gone to extravagant lengths to ensure the creation was a virtually flawless masterpiece, each hair on the beast’s mane intricately and precisely shaped, and even the body had the same texture as that of a real horse. T’shar had seen many fine works of art in various shops, estates and other buildings during her career, but even she was forced to pause to marvel in the magnificence of the statue. She resisted the overwhelming temptation to place the piece into her bag, as she knew it was not the reason for her intrusion. Besides, she told herself, she had nowhere suitable to place the masterwork.

T’shar hurried over to the desk on the far side of the room, examining the pieces of parchment placed in a neat pile. The letters told T’shar little, short of that Relkan was attending a dinner at the palace in the not too distant future, and that he was writing to express his interest in purchasing several works of art from various people. The drawers of the desk contained nothing but quills, inkwells and blank parchment, much to T’shar’s professional disgust, a little irked that he could not have made her job easy like most of those she had to steal from, but appreciating the challenge of a not completely straightforward task.

Turning her attention to the cabinet, T’shar leafed through the first book, which seemed to contain mostly dealing regarding the noble’s artworks, either buying or selling. The second she picked up held much the same, and the next was just as mundane, a listing of the holdings of various nobles around the region, seemingly compiled by him for some unknown purpose. While this might have hinted he was doing something illegal, it proved nothing except he was interested in knowing the particulars of other people’s land or holdings.

Opening the doors to the compartment above where those books were seated revealed more inside, but they seemed to be informative works about works of art, either describing how to determine the quality of the work or were inventories of various high quality pieces, their background and approximate worth. Then came the piles of letters to and from various nobles, including an elaborate invite to Tyull-Ishar from the Emperor himself.

“Where are you hiding your private documents, you conniving piece of filth?” She scowled in frustration, annoyed at the Relkan’s obsession with art pieces and her own inability to find evidence of his wrongdoing. The payments of gold per week were definitely not donations; T’shar knew such consistent and considerable amounts were the hallmark of dealing in some sort of illegal activity. The proof she needed was somewhere in the room, as it had not been in the upper library, nor had T’shar expected it to be, for no person, no matter how stupid, would not place such confidential and potentially dangerous papers in such an accessible place.

Her eyes flashed around the room, searching for something she had missed, the place where the documents she was looking for were hidden. Sighing, she sat down on the floor with her legs out in front of her, now significantly chagrined with herself for having difficulty in performing her job, something that happened very infrequently. She had heard the guard walk past not long before, and anyone entering the room would first have to unlock it with the key, which would give her more than enough time to get up and ready herself to surprise them if the need arose.

Now that she had some time to spare without fear of being discovered, T’shar pulled out her map and examined the plan of the building carefully. The ground floor contained nothing of interest to T’shar, storerooms, art rooms, the quarters of the guard and servants along with the kitchen were not places that the noble would store incriminating evidence. The second floor was primarily taken up by the dining and entertaining area, with the guest bedrooms, toilets and bathrooms as well as the library the only other rooms on that floor. That left the top floor, which contained only the study and the master bedroom. Seeing no other option, T’shar tucked the map away and stood up to go to there to seek her objective.

As she did so, her previous observation about the fireplace struck her – it was unused. This seemed more than slightly odd, the room was so methodically arranged that T’shar suspected even the slightest disruption of the objects in it would be noticed, and everything was kept perfectly clean and dustless. Yet T’shar knew that the inside of a fireplace was impossible to keep clean, the black charcoal from burnt wood was virtually permanent once established.

She leaned down to the fireplace and pushed on the wall that was the back of the fireplace, suspecting it to be a secret entrance to another room, but the wall held fast. She stood up, face to face with the sculpted bronze dragon head, and examined it carefully, looking and probing for a telltale loose tooth or some other extremity that she could pull or push to cause the door to swing open. Searching the entire head and finding nothing, T’shar grabbed either side of the head and tried to push it to left, but as it resisted that movement, she instead attempted to tilt it, an effort which caused a strained rasping sound of stone against stone as the back wall of the fireplace turned.

The turning stone stopped when it was perpendicular its original position, allowing T’shar to stoop down and hobble through the small gap to stand in front of a downward spiralling stone staircase. A small metal pull chain was hanging on the wall to the left, which moved slowly up the wall as the secret door automatically turned itself to conceal the entrance once more a few moments after she had passed through it. T’shar smiled to herself in the near pitch-black darkness of the stairwell as she walked slowly and carefully down the steps.

As she proceeded downwards, she guessed that the stairs were taking her below ground level, to an otherwise inaccessible basement in the building. There were torches placed on the outside wall as she went down, though far more intermittent than the lanterns placed inside the main parts of the building, providing adequate lighting, but enough of the shadow that T’shar dearly appreciated, not that it would serve any purpose whatsoever in the cramped stairwell.

She navigated them carefully, for the stairs were steep, and the ceiling was low, so low that she could reach the ceiling with her fingers at short of a full stretch. She hunched awkwardly below the cobwebs that dotted the stairway, her professional desire to mask her passing overwhelming her personal desire to swipe them away.

At the bottom of the stairwell the walls opened up and the stone floor stretched out into an expansive room. The air was cold and clammy, with the sparsely placed torches faintly illuminating the shadows the danced about the room. The wet, musty smell that dominated the room had the trappings of a dungeon, but from what T’shar could see of various instruments placed about the room, it was actually a torture chamber.

Not wanting to blunder forward half-blind, a brief pause allowed T’shar’s eyes to fully adjust to the dim lighting. Taking a few paces forward, T’shar could see a table and desk that would obviously be the location of the documents she was looking for, but out of the corner of her left eye, she spotted a small movement and turned to see what it was. She dry-retched as she realised that it was in fact a person, lying bloodied and chained to the floor.