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heard, he was on his way to Kata'shin'a'in.
Raf had gotten caught, and was currently serving out his sentence on the
Border
with Karse, for he'd made the mistake of getting caught with his hand on the
pouch of a Great Lord.
Lyle had given up thievery altogether, but only because he'd fallen in love
instead. He'd gone head over heels with a farmer's daughter one Fair Day in
the
cattle market, and she with him, and over the course of six weeks had managed
to
charm her old father into consenting to marriage. Lyle had taken to country
life
as if he'd been born to it, which amazed all of them, Lyle himself not the
least.
Bazie had gotten two new boys just before Lyle fell to the love-god's arrows,
and it was left to him and Skif to train them up. That was why Skif was going
for a big stake now; the boys weren't up to the lifting lay yet, and only one
was adequate at swiping things out of laundries. Skif had the feeling that
Bazie
had taken them more out of pity than anything else; Lyle had brought them in
after finding them scouring the riverbanks mudlarking for anything they could
salvage. Thin, malnourished, and as ignorant as a couple of savages, even
Bazie
wasn't about to try and pound reading, writing, and reckoning lessons into
them.
That fell on the head of some poor priest at the nearest Temple.
Skif traced the last line of the lid of the safe-cupboard and found the
keyhole
easily enough. No one had made any effort to hide it, and he slid his lock
pick
out of a slit pocket in his belt and went to work by touch.
Before very long, he knew for a fact that Kalink had been cheated, for this
was
the cheapest lock he had ever come across in a fancy house. It wasn't the work
of more than a few moments to tickle it open, and ease the lid of the
safe-cupboard open.
With the lid resting safely on the floor, Skif reached into the cupboard and
began lifting out heavy little jewel cases, placing them on the floor until he
had emptied the cupboard. What he wanted was gold and silver.
Gold was soft; with a hammer and a stone, Skif could pound chains and settings
into an amorphous lump, which any goldsmith would buy without a second thought
and at a reasonable price. Silver wasn't bad to have; you could cut it up with
a
chisel and render the bits unidentifiable. He'd rather not have gemstones; you
couldn't just take them to a goldsmith, and you wouldn't get more than a
fraction of their worth.
So he opened each box and examined its contents by feel; rejecting out-of-hand
all gem-studded rings, earrings, and brooches. He selected chains, bracelets,
pendants, anything that was mostly or completely made of metal. The emptied
boxes went into the bottom of the cupboard, with the rest stacked on top. With
luck, the theft wouldn't even be uncovered for days after Kalink and his wife
returned. By then, of course, everything would have been disposed of, melted
down it might even become part of whatever baubles the mistress picked to
replace what was lost!
Each piece he selected, he wrapped in one of Bazie's purloined silk
handkerchiefs to cut down on sound and stored in one of the many pockets of
his
sneak suit. It didn't do a thief a great deal of good to be chiming and
chinking when he moved!
He hesitated once or twice, but in the end, opted to be conservative in what
he
chose. He had no way of getting rid of that triple rope of pearls, for
instance,
nor the brooch that featured a huge carven cabochon. And when his fingers told
him that the piece he was holding was of finely-detailed enamel, he couldn't
bear the idea of destroying something that so much work and creativity had
gone
into. The same, for the wreath of fragile leaves and flowerlets a clever way
of
getting around the fact that a commoner couldn't wear a coronet. But the rest
of
what he chose was common enough, mere show of gleaming metal, without much
artistry in it.
He replaced the last box and eased the lid back down on the cupboard. Now came
the fun part: getting out.
He didn't want the maid to get into trouble; that was hardly fair. If he left
the window in her room with the catches undone, she'd be the first to be
blamed.
So after he slid out from under the bed, he crept across the mistress' room to
try the next door over.
It was a bathing room, and he laughed silently. Good old Kalink! Nothing but
the
best for him for certain-sure. Nothing but the latest! There was an indoor
privy, everything flushed away with water after you'd done, and a boiler to
heat
bath water, all served from a cistern on the roof. Good place to leave open.
He opened the catch on the window and pushed open the shutters that served
this
room instead of ironwork. Let Kalink presume that this was how his thief got
in,
and wonder how on earth he came up the wall from the yard, or down the wall
from
the steeply-pitched roof.
Now he returned to the maid's room. He'd go out the way he came, but he had a
trick to use on the kind of simple bar catches on that window. A loop of
string
on each of them let him pull them closed again once he'd closed the window
behind him.
By now the moon was down, and there wasn't a chance anyone could see him. In
moments, he was down in the alley, running like a cat, heading for his next
destination. He didn't dare be caught in this outfit! There would be no doubt
in
anyone's mind that of what his business was!
But there was a remedy for that, too. Two streets over was that wonderfully
handy cavity in Lord Orthallen's wall, and that was where he'd left a set of
breeches and a tunic. In the safety of the utter blackness, he pulled the
bricks
loose and extracted them. The hood of his shirt became a high collar, the
scarf
around his face and throat went around his waist beneath the tunic. He wiped
the
charcoal from his face with the inside of the tunic, and in very little time,
a
perfectly respectable young lad was strolling down the street with a bundle
under his arm. He could be anyone's page boy or young servant on any of a
dozen
errands, and he even passed patrols of the Nightwatch twice without any of
them
stopping or even looking at him.
If they had, they'd have found nothing worse than a bundle of gentleman's
underthings. And if he was asked, he'd mumble and hide his face and say he
couldn't rightly say, but his mistress had told him to take them quietly to a
certain gentleman and there wasn't anything else he could tell them.
The Watch would, of course, assume that the gentleman in question had been
forced to make a hasty exit from a bedroom where he'd had no business being
and
had left the least important of his clothing behind. As it was no business of
the Watch to oversee the morals of anyone, Skif would be sent on his way,
perhaps with a laugh.
The closer he got to his destination, the more relaxed he felt. Already he was
planning where to take the metal, how to show the two boys to pound the gold
and
silver into flat, indistinguishable sheets.
Hunger caught up with him then; he hadn't eaten much, following Bazie's dictum
that a full stomach made for a slow thief. Bazie wasn't actually expecting him
for some time yet, since it was always his habit to go home by as circuitous a
route as possible. A thief might be expected to hurry back to his den to hide
his loot and so a thief who feared pursuit would do. But no one knew that Skif
carried a small fortune about his person, nor did any sign of it show. No one
knew that the Kalink household had been robbed this night. There was no
pursuit.
So why hurry back? A thief runs when no one chases him, was another of Bazie's
dictums, and he was right. If Skif looked guilty, acted guilty, the Watch
might
detain and search him, just on principle.
So, as soon as he reached a street of inns and taverns the same one, in fact, [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
zanotowane.pl doc.pisz.pl pdf.pisz.pl aikidobyd.xlx.pl
heard, he was on his way to Kata'shin'a'in.
Raf had gotten caught, and was currently serving out his sentence on the
Border
with Karse, for he'd made the mistake of getting caught with his hand on the
pouch of a Great Lord.
Lyle had given up thievery altogether, but only because he'd fallen in love
instead. He'd gone head over heels with a farmer's daughter one Fair Day in
the
cattle market, and she with him, and over the course of six weeks had managed
to
charm her old father into consenting to marriage. Lyle had taken to country
life
as if he'd been born to it, which amazed all of them, Lyle himself not the
least.
Bazie had gotten two new boys just before Lyle fell to the love-god's arrows,
and it was left to him and Skif to train them up. That was why Skif was going
for a big stake now; the boys weren't up to the lifting lay yet, and only one
was adequate at swiping things out of laundries. Skif had the feeling that
Bazie
had taken them more out of pity than anything else; Lyle had brought them in
after finding them scouring the riverbanks mudlarking for anything they could
salvage. Thin, malnourished, and as ignorant as a couple of savages, even
Bazie
wasn't about to try and pound reading, writing, and reckoning lessons into
them.
That fell on the head of some poor priest at the nearest Temple.
Skif traced the last line of the lid of the safe-cupboard and found the
keyhole
easily enough. No one had made any effort to hide it, and he slid his lock
pick
out of a slit pocket in his belt and went to work by touch.
Before very long, he knew for a fact that Kalink had been cheated, for this
was
the cheapest lock he had ever come across in a fancy house. It wasn't the work
of more than a few moments to tickle it open, and ease the lid of the
safe-cupboard open.
With the lid resting safely on the floor, Skif reached into the cupboard and
began lifting out heavy little jewel cases, placing them on the floor until he
had emptied the cupboard. What he wanted was gold and silver.
Gold was soft; with a hammer and a stone, Skif could pound chains and settings
into an amorphous lump, which any goldsmith would buy without a second thought
and at a reasonable price. Silver wasn't bad to have; you could cut it up with
a
chisel and render the bits unidentifiable. He'd rather not have gemstones; you
couldn't just take them to a goldsmith, and you wouldn't get more than a
fraction of their worth.
So he opened each box and examined its contents by feel; rejecting out-of-hand
all gem-studded rings, earrings, and brooches. He selected chains, bracelets,
pendants, anything that was mostly or completely made of metal. The emptied
boxes went into the bottom of the cupboard, with the rest stacked on top. With
luck, the theft wouldn't even be uncovered for days after Kalink and his wife
returned. By then, of course, everything would have been disposed of, melted
down it might even become part of whatever baubles the mistress picked to
replace what was lost!
Each piece he selected, he wrapped in one of Bazie's purloined silk
handkerchiefs to cut down on sound and stored in one of the many pockets of
his
sneak suit. It didn't do a thief a great deal of good to be chiming and
chinking when he moved!
He hesitated once or twice, but in the end, opted to be conservative in what
he
chose. He had no way of getting rid of that triple rope of pearls, for
instance,
nor the brooch that featured a huge carven cabochon. And when his fingers told
him that the piece he was holding was of finely-detailed enamel, he couldn't
bear the idea of destroying something that so much work and creativity had
gone
into. The same, for the wreath of fragile leaves and flowerlets a clever way
of
getting around the fact that a commoner couldn't wear a coronet. But the rest
of
what he chose was common enough, mere show of gleaming metal, without much
artistry in it.
He replaced the last box and eased the lid back down on the cupboard. Now came
the fun part: getting out.
He didn't want the maid to get into trouble; that was hardly fair. If he left
the window in her room with the catches undone, she'd be the first to be
blamed.
So after he slid out from under the bed, he crept across the mistress' room to
try the next door over.
It was a bathing room, and he laughed silently. Good old Kalink! Nothing but
the
best for him for certain-sure. Nothing but the latest! There was an indoor
privy, everything flushed away with water after you'd done, and a boiler to
heat
bath water, all served from a cistern on the roof. Good place to leave open.
He opened the catch on the window and pushed open the shutters that served
this
room instead of ironwork. Let Kalink presume that this was how his thief got
in,
and wonder how on earth he came up the wall from the yard, or down the wall
from
the steeply-pitched roof.
Now he returned to the maid's room. He'd go out the way he came, but he had a
trick to use on the kind of simple bar catches on that window. A loop of
string
on each of them let him pull them closed again once he'd closed the window
behind him.
By now the moon was down, and there wasn't a chance anyone could see him. In
moments, he was down in the alley, running like a cat, heading for his next
destination. He didn't dare be caught in this outfit! There would be no doubt
in
anyone's mind that of what his business was!
But there was a remedy for that, too. Two streets over was that wonderfully
handy cavity in Lord Orthallen's wall, and that was where he'd left a set of
breeches and a tunic. In the safety of the utter blackness, he pulled the
bricks
loose and extracted them. The hood of his shirt became a high collar, the
scarf
around his face and throat went around his waist beneath the tunic. He wiped
the
charcoal from his face with the inside of the tunic, and in very little time,
a
perfectly respectable young lad was strolling down the street with a bundle
under his arm. He could be anyone's page boy or young servant on any of a
dozen
errands, and he even passed patrols of the Nightwatch twice without any of
them
stopping or even looking at him.
If they had, they'd have found nothing worse than a bundle of gentleman's
underthings. And if he was asked, he'd mumble and hide his face and say he
couldn't rightly say, but his mistress had told him to take them quietly to a
certain gentleman and there wasn't anything else he could tell them.
The Watch would, of course, assume that the gentleman in question had been
forced to make a hasty exit from a bedroom where he'd had no business being
and
had left the least important of his clothing behind. As it was no business of
the Watch to oversee the morals of anyone, Skif would be sent on his way,
perhaps with a laugh.
The closer he got to his destination, the more relaxed he felt. Already he was
planning where to take the metal, how to show the two boys to pound the gold
and
silver into flat, indistinguishable sheets.
Hunger caught up with him then; he hadn't eaten much, following Bazie's dictum
that a full stomach made for a slow thief. Bazie wasn't actually expecting him
for some time yet, since it was always his habit to go home by as circuitous a
route as possible. A thief might be expected to hurry back to his den to hide
his loot and so a thief who feared pursuit would do. But no one knew that Skif
carried a small fortune about his person, nor did any sign of it show. No one
knew that the Kalink household had been robbed this night. There was no
pursuit.
So why hurry back? A thief runs when no one chases him, was another of Bazie's
dictums, and he was right. If Skif looked guilty, acted guilty, the Watch
might
detain and search him, just on principle.
So, as soon as he reached a street of inns and taverns the same one, in fact, [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]