Theft, Murder, and Crystals Read online

  Samuel had never gotten into this business to have anyone killed. Did that Tadmin fellow deserve to die? Sure, after all, he had attacked one of Samuel’s best friends. But what about the rest of the guild? The men and women who were simply trying to make a better life for themselves? Just like he and Cimir were trying. Did they deserve such brutality? In the moment, making the orders had been easy, so much anger had clouded Samuel’s judgement. But now, in the cold and sober aftermath of hearing about the overwhelming success of the raid, things weren’t as clear.

  “To us!” Cimir cheered as he raised his glass high. The smile across his face said everything Samuel needed to know about how the sorcerer felt.

  “To us,” Samuel echoed, holding his own glass up. They clinked their drinks and drank deeply of the Rimlidian Bubble Wine. It was too sweet for Samuel’s tastes.

  “You okay?” Cimir asked as he plopped down into his chair and kicked his feet up on the desk. “You’re looking rather pale.”

  “I…I feel a little ill,” Samuel mumbled, sitting on the long, black couch near a table full of books on magic. “More than ill, actually. Guilty.”

  “Guilty?” Cimir asked with a laugh. “About what? It’s not like Glimmer’s ever done anything to help people like us.”

  “Oh, not about selling the crystals,” Samuel replied. He looked down at the floor, feelings of shame welling up within him. “About the raid.”

  Cimir said nothing to that. He merely glanced at his own glass, as if there was something of immense interest in the bubbles.

  “I mean, I’m glad we got Sali back and that she’s safe. But, come on, man. Over fifty people are dead and why? Because I refused to make a sales arrangement with their leader. He was so…so desperate,” Samuel continued. “He begged me. Begged me without a shred of dignity for help. Said I was the only thing that could help him. And I refused, I refused because I thought it would be bad for our business. And that drove him to make a desperate act.”

  “You are not responsible for the cruelty of others,” Cimir replied. “Besides, if Tadmin had any business sense, he would have gone and filled out the proper paperwork to become a guild before trying anything stupid like attacking us.”

  “Do you have any idea how much a license costs? The process it takes to become a guild?” Samuel asked. “Someone like Tadmin would never have a chance of becoming legitimate.”

  Cimir shrugged at that. “You seem really torn up about a guy who, if the situations were reversed, would have issued the order without hesitation.”

  “I didn’t hesitate!” Samuel growled. He sighed and placed his face in his hands. “And that’s the problem. I didn’t even bother to consider what I was doing. Elias said he knew how to handle it, and I agreed. So many dead and… and it was just over what? Money? Is that worth dying for?”

  “They were mercenaries,” Cimir replied. “So, I guess money was exactly what they thought was worth dying over. Come now, you’re being far too dramatic.”

  “How can you be so cold?” Samuel asked. “How can you just sit there, drinking your wine cheerfully as if a room full of dead people doesn’t weigh on your conscience. The worst part is that you didn’t even have a reason to be angry when you voted. You don’t know Sali. You weren’t angry. But you voted yes on the raid anyway. Why?”

  “Because, my friend, this is the future for us,” Cimir quietly replied. The words were like a wet blanket, dropping over Samuel to smother him. “When the Falcon came to visit, I realized that violence was part of crime. There’s no getting around it. We can’t keep our hands clean from fighting or killing if we want to run this business.”

  Samuel sighed. “I just thought this would be different.”

  “To be fair, you changed the rules when your eyes got bigger than your stomach,” Cimir said. “I would have been happy to just make a few hundred gold pieces and quit. But you wanted more.”

  “I did,” Samuel muttered. “But I wanted more money, not…not this. I mean, three weeks ago we were celebrating closing a deal with a construction company. Now we’re celebrating the death of our enemies. I’m not a killer.”

  “Then quit,” Cimir said. “Quit and take what money we’ve made. Elias and I can run this operation just fine without you.”

  “You don’t mean that,” Samuel replied as he shook his head. “I know you don’t.”

  “Of course not,” Cimir said. He finished the rest of his drink and placed the glass on the desk. “But what do you want me to say? That there won’t be more violence ahead? That we’ll be able to just keep selling our wares without any conflict? I just finished an order this morning that put over 30,000 gold into our pocket. A single day, a single day brings in more than some farms make in a year. People are going to want a taste of what we’re doing.”

  As much as Samuel hated to admit it, the staggering number of gold lifted his spirits somewhat. His cut would be 3,000 gold. Everyone took ten percent and the rest would be reinvested into the business itself. Ideas of what could be done with the money came to his mind. Businesses to purchase, shipments to be invested in, even charities and orphanages he could help. For a moment, the dead bodies vanished from his mind.

  “I know you,” Cimir continued. “You don’t want to be down in the streets again. You don’t want a nice, quiet life. You crave more. All these years of you coming up with scams and schemes, all for what reason? To live a better and more adventurous life. You can quit if you want to, but you’re not going to. We both know it.”

  Samuel closed his eyes and nodded at that. “You’re right…I could never walk away from so much cash. But what do I do about this guilt? Don’t you feel anything like that? Some kind of sorrow or, or shame?”

  Cimir shrugged. “My culture raised me to be compassionate on those who are weak and to be ruthless to those who are strong and cruel. I feel pride over our choice. You should too. That’s 50 less wretched people in this town. Fifty less killers, murderers and thugs. A guild without a license is nothing more than a gang. Gangs rape, loot and steal without remorse.”

  “Yeah…yeah, they do, don’t they?” Samuel said, clinging to the words. “So, we… we did a good thing here. Right?”

  “I would say so,” Cimir said. “We defended ourselves.”

  “And others,” Samuel mumbled. It was all a falsehood, of course. A simple lie to cling onto, but at this moment, it was all Samuel had to prevent the guilt from overwhelming him.

  “Exactly,” Cimir said as he reached for the bottle of wine. “Join me for another round.”

  “Yeah,” Samuel agreed. He stretched his arm out, glass in hand and waited for Cimir to pour him more of the terrible wine. It tasted awful, of course, but it would get him drunk all the same. And in the end, wasn’t that the whole point of booze? Good taste or bad taste, a big smile and a spinning room was all that really mattered.

  Captain Markov sat across from his old friend, Erice. “More tea, ma’am?” he asked as he lifted the teapot to refill his own cup.

  “Please,” the young, redhaired woman asked as she lifted her own glass. They were sitting in his humble apartment, located in the Golden District. With the latest influx of money, he could have afforded to move somewhere safer, but he chose to spend it on more meaningful things. Such as the woman sitting across from him.

  “So, I take it this isn’t a social call?” Erice asked.

  Markov smiled. “Of course not. May I ask, how did you end up tangled with the Endless Legion, anyway? Last time we spoke, you were second in command to the Sunbiters.”

  “Well, the Legion sacked our chapter and took me as a conscript,” she replied between sips of her tea. Markov could see the agony on her face. “Those idiots thought that just because they were strong and wielded magic that we would obey them.”

  “But you had the last laugh,” Markov said.

  Erice smiled widely at that, her eyes flickering back and forth in memory. “Oh, I certainly did.”

  The woman had been the one wh
o leaked the location of the Endless Legion’s location, as well as the times that they would all be together. She had contacted one of Markov’s men with all the pertinent details. She had asked for no money, no reward, just the simple satisfaction of knowing that they would all be massacred for their crimes. Those who had been conscripted, she warned ahead of time to leave the premise or die with the rest of the men.

  Erice was an impressive woman, with an excellent resume. She served loyally in her guild for fifteen years of her life, starting at the age of ten. During times of trouble, the Sunbiters were always called upon to serve the city and they dutifully executed without hesitation. Even when the laws outlawing magic were introduced, the Sunbiters were the first to bring all of their gear to the city hall for disposal. She was the perfect woman for Markov’s little project.

  “So, let’s get down to business,” Markov said. “I have an operation that I need someone to look after. Someone who I can trust.”

  “I’m flattered,” Erice said.

  “Well, it was fortuitous that you proved your loyalty to the city once again by reporting on the Endless Legion instead of joining them.”

  “Let’s not pretend that was an act of anything other than revenge. Civil duty was far from my mind,” Erice replied. “The Sun demands to burn those who bring harm to His priests.”

  “Regardless, you’ll need work, no doubt. With your colleague’s dead and no other chapters even remotely close to Glimmer, there’s not much to do,” Markov replied.

  Erice nodded at that. “I have some money saved up, I could live well for a while.”

  “Or you could live well for the rest of your life,” Markov said. “I need someone to go undercover for me. To keep an eye on things.”

  “Undercover?” Erice asked. “That sounds rather complicated. Some other guild causing trouble?”

  “No, nothing too grim like that,” Markov said. “Rather, I’ve made a business arrangement with a friend and I want to have some eyes on the inside. To ensure that nothing gets out of hand.”

  Erice said nothing. Her face was cold and emotionless, revealing nothing to Markov. He was taking a bit of a risk in recruiting her, but at the same time, he needed an outsider more than anything right now.

  “You are aware that magic is somehow still in this city, right? Well, a good friend of mine has gotten mixed up in the business of providing said magic. I don’t know how. He wants to be coy about it. All I know is that some sorcerer has some method of putting magic into a crystal.”

  “And you want me to find out?” Erice asked. “To learn the method and bring it to you?”

  “Yes, among other things,” Markov said. “I don’t protest the use of magic in this city, if we’re to be honest. I think outlawing it was a fool’s decision. Half this city would rather die than give up their magic and the other half would rather die than bow to some foreign power.”

  “I share similar sentiments,” Erice replied. “But that doesn’t change the laws of this city. Are we not, as soldiers and loyalists, to follow the laws, regardless of how we feel about them? You invite anarchy otherwise.”

  Markov shrugged. “Anarchy is preferable to a plague.”

  “The Sun will protect us from illness,” Erice said. “His shining countenance will burn away all disease.”

  “Perhaps when your priests could practice their magic,” Markov said. “When you could mutter a few words and wave a hand to set your foes alight. Now, you’re in the same boat as the rest of us.”

  “I do miss holding such power in my hands,” Erice whispered. “To feel the sun coursing through my veins. Beautiful. Just beautiful.”

  “Anyway,” Markov said, ignoring her arcane utterances. “I’m willing to pay you to join their organization, maybe as security or something like that. They’ll pay you too, I’m sure, if you can talk yourself into getting a job with them. You pull in double pay and then, you just learn everything you can about the operation.”

  “That sounds like a quick way to end up dead,” Erice replied. “The moment they catch wind that I’m a snitch, that’ll be it for me.”

  “These aren’t criminals like you’d think,” Markov said. He chuckled a little. “They are businessmen who happen to be operating outside the law. They are harmless. The worst they have is the Stonemar, and he seems averse to wanton violence. Besides, the worst case scenario is that they find out you’re associated with me. Elias, the leader, and I are close friends. He’ll assume the best, not the worst.”

  “Easy for you to say,” Erice grumbled. “But you’ll find me in an alley someday, I’m sure of it.”

  “Maybe, but not because of them,” Markov said. “Trust me.”

  Erice sighed. “You’re going to have to really make it worth my while. And I’m not talking about money.”

  “What do you want?”

  “A temple to the Sun. My people should have the right to worship just like any other religion,” Erice replied. She was referring to an ordinance that prevented unorganized religions from having temples in the city. They were free to practice their faith, but without a Creed, without a series of tenants and an established hierarchy and priesthood, temples were not allowed to be raised. Sun worship, like most elemental religions, was mostly classless and freeform. Everyone was an equal. At its best, it meant that worshippers would come together in harmony and unity, no one standing above any other. At its worst, it meant that any worshipper of said religion could make claims to being the one True Priest and causing a civil war. Outlaw of these temples had reduced religious violence significantly in the city.

  “Hmmm, that’s a tall order,” Markov said. He stroked his mustache for a moment in consideration. “I suppose a small temple, located in the Golden District and hidden from view would be acceptable.”

  “Your guards won’t bother us? We’ll be safe from the watch?” Erice asked.

  “Aye,” Markov replied. He chuckled a little. “What happened to obeying the law, no matter what?”

  “I figured if I’m going to break the anti-magic laws, then I might as well break the religious ones too,” Erice replied.

  “You have my word; your temple will be safe. As long as you keep things under control. I don’t want another Moon War, understood?”

  “That’s fair,” Erice said. She stretched her hand out to shake Markov’s. He eagerly shook hers.

  “Welcome to the team,” he said. “I’m looking forward to your reports.”

  They finished their tea, engaged in some idle chat, and then Erice departed for her own home, promising to seek employment with Samuel as quickly as possible. Markov sat alone, in his one bedroom apartment, with much to think about.

  Was it treachery, to hire a spy and look into Elias’ secrets? Perhaps, but Markov was no fool. He could trust Elias for a time, but there was far more at stake than mere friendship. Magic in the wrong hands, could lead to serious disaster for the city. Elias was not the wrong hands, but what of the sorcerer creating these items? What ancient powers did he control? How long before the sorcerer would realize that there was more to life than making money? Could Markov even trust this spellcaster?

  Elias would not be able to answer those questions, for the man was a politician and a bureaucrat. Markov, on the other hand, was a captain, a fighter, a killer. He had to know the truth, promises be damned. Erice would bring everything he needed to know to light. Markov hoped that the news would be positive. But if this sorcerer looked like trouble, Markov would have to act. A plague would kill around half of the population, but a sorcerous uprising? Kalimar would not suffer the city to live. Markov could not allow that, no matter how big his department’s budget was becoming.

  Chapter 18:

  “Have a seat, Mr. Cimir,” Elias said, pointing toward the large, cushioned sofa across from where he was sitting.

  The white haired man looked at him quizzically. “Can it wait?” he asked. “I was in the middle of an interesting experiment.”

  “I’m afraid th
is is an important matter to discuss,” Elias replied, gesturing to the couch again. “I won’t take too much of your time, I promise.”

  “Very well,” Cimir said as he sat on the edge of the sofa. “What is it?”

  Elias cleared his throat. Cimir was somewhat abrasive, curt and rather distant at times. Elias had tried, in the past few weeks, to have cordial conversations, to get to the know the sorcerer, but Cimir would mostly give one word answers. Sometimes the boy would even hiss at Elias. According to Samuel, the lad had been raised by snake people, but Elias couldn’t tell if that was a joke or not.

  “Yes, well, I’ve been looking at the orders we are able to take at a time,” Elias started, trying to ignore Cimir’s piercing scowl. “And it would appear that we are well at capacity.”