Page 5 of Dishonor Among Thieves
The next morning, I opened my eyes before the sun rose, my bare toes poking out from the ends of the coarse blanket. I stretched and groaned, briefly contemplating how long I could stay here. How many nights of peace the money in my bag could purchase honestly. Maybe I could settle in a shire like this. Take up a rag and a spot behind the bar and serve ale day after day. I could imagine worse fates. Had seen many people whose lives had been ruined by indulgent dreams and pointless hopes. Maybe someday I’d stop wanting a better life and I’d accept the life that I’d been given by the gods. The life that, whether I liked it or not, I was destined to live.
As if stealing and saving and keeping secrets could be called living. I could hardly call what I’d been doing survival.
I didn’t want much. Just a place to rest my head and a steady enough stream of income so that I didn’t have to ration every bite, every sip, every quarter-penny. Constantly worrying about the next moment and whether want would weaken me, tire me, or destroy me completely.
Just one of the coins I’d picked from the purse of the man at the pub would be enough to cover last night’s stay. Should I settle in, spend it all and stay another? Maybe the barkeep would hire me, or the kind lady at the desk would take pity on a motherless, homeless wretch and help me find a job.
Thinking about work reminded me of the handsome gentleman from the pub. His blue-black hair and strange eyes had been haunting, but there was something else about the man that made his job so attractive. He seemed like the type of man who’d never known want, whose home would be filled with food and luxuries like feather pillows and furniture covered in costly fabrics. Any man who wore vibrant colors had to be a man of means, and if he was hiring a caretaker—if he’d come to Fish Head End to seek out a trusted friend for the job, he had to have wealth that required a person of some trust to secure it.
That was a job I wanted. That was the work I needed.
Money meant opportunity, and I was more than ready to create the change in fortune that I sought, even if I had to do so through less-than-honest means.
I sighed, tossing and turning in the unfamiliar bed. The ease of a safe night’s rest was vanishing like a fog with the appearance of the morning sun. No matter how I tried to cling to the lazy luxury of sleep, my heart beat faster with every moment that passed. This was not my destination. Just a stop on the road. I’d best get on before fate or fortune intervened in a way I did not want. Preserving the few choices I had was the only aspect of my life that brought me comfort.
I kicked off the blankets, washed my face, and ran my fingers through my hair, wondering what manner of breakfast I might find before slipping into the crowd and disappearing along the dusty road. While I pondered the issue of my next meal, I stamped out the fire from last night and doused the last of the embers with the used chamber water. Then I packed my bag, slipped into my shoes, and remade the bed exactly as I’d found it.
I didn’t dare hope that the innkeepers wouldn’t remember I’d stayed here, but with the plan I had, it was possible,possible, that I could slip out without paying. I peered out the north-facing window and took in the dark square. The lamp lighter was already on duty, dragging his cart behind him as he extinguished the lamps now that the risk of trolls and other beasts that attacked in the night was diminishing with every ray of the rising sun.
I stood at the closed door of my room and quietly turned the lock. I heard nothing in the hallway—no early risers, no staff—so I crept from the room and secured the door behind me. I tiptoed down the stairs and breathed a sigh of relief. There was no one working. No voices prepping teas and bread or hauling fresh water in from the well. The place seemed blessedly deserted. I walked quickly toward the abandoned front desk and slipped the key to my room onto the counter. I closed my eyes and rubbed the charm around my neck, thanking my sister for keeping an eye out for me.
Except I thanked her a bit too soon.
“Oy! You there! Girlie!” Gone was the matronly woman who’d been so concerned last night when she’d rented me the room. Now, a grizzly older man with a robust belly that strained the fabric of his filthy tunic popped up from behind the desk.
“Oh!” I exclaimed, a hand to my chest. “You startled me!”
“You startled me,” he said, glaring, “into thinking I was about to get taken for the price of a night’s stay! You checkin’ outta your room?” He picked up the key I’d left on the counter and inspected it before using it to pick at something stuck in his front teeth.
My stomach rolled over, and I brushed away the sudden urge to clean my hands on the folds of my cloak. I thought fast. “I paid for the room last night,” I explained. “I was only intending to sleep a few hours, and the nice lady I spoke to…”
“Ain’t no nice ladies workin’ here,” the desk clerk rasped. “Certainly nobody nice enough to give a room away for free.”
“It wasn’t free,” I insisted. “I paid for the room last night. If you’d only give me a chance to explain—”
The man didn’t seem convinced, and I suddenly realized that the kindness of the old woman might not have been kindness at all. I may just have fallen victim to a scam of an entirely different sort. I cursed myself for being so naive, so foolish as to think there was any real compassion to be had from strangers. I’d not make the same mistake again.
“Explain it to the shire-reeve,” the man groused, ringing a bell he kept behind the counter. “Billy boy! Oh, Billy, run and grab the shire-reeve, and tell him to bring his cuffs. Looks like we got a thief needs taking in.”
“I’m not a thief!” I exclaimed, panic seizing in my chest. I could not be taken into custody. I’d never have the means to pay the fines for my confinement, and I had no faith whatsoever in the justice to be found in this remote shire. I had to get out of here, no matter the cost. “How much do you think I owe you? Surely we can work this out.” I reached beneath my cloak to stroke the stone around my neck, seeking out the comfort of my sister’s touchstone. “Please,” I insisted. “This is just a misunderstanding.”
“Full night in a room with a bed and a fire…” He counted something out loud on his fingers before proclaiming the amount that I owed him. “Four silver,” he said. “And that’s before I inspect the room for anything missing.”
“Four silver! Anything missing?” I echoed, my voice indignant, despite my fear. “There was nothing in that room but a handful of twigs for the fire and the bed! Do you think I’ve somehow managed to slip the bed out the window and will be scurrying off with your flea-infested hay? This is preposterous! I could rent every room in this place for the night for less than four silver!”
The amount he demanded was at least four times the amount I would have paid for the room if I’d actually planned to pay for it. I was certain now that I had fallen into a trap, a web that I only hoped I was clever enough to escape.
“Billy!” the clerk shouted again, swearing under his breath. “Don’t you make a move, missy! Once my boy is up, you’ll answer to the shire-reeve, you will!”
“Four silver?” A deep voice behind me caused my shoulders to sag in defeat.
Not him. Not the pretty gentleman. If he’d heard that I was being accused of slipping out of the room without paying, I had no doubt he’d be happy to add my theft of his blade to the list of complaints that would be lodged against me.
I was just about to turn and argue with him too, when he slipped beside me, leaned forward, and planted a strong hand on the front desk. “That sounds like an unfair rate to charge a woman for a single night’s stay,” he mused, cocking his chin at the clerk. “If I’m not mistaken, the woman who was working here just last night offered me a room for a single silver.” He flicked a glance at me, his face impassive. “And she sent up tea and biscuits before bed.”
“Tea and biscuits!” I exclaimed, but the gentleman waved away my words.
“Where is that Billy of yours?” he asked, his thick brows furrowing in concern. “I suspect the shire-reeve would like to know just how many innocent strangers passing through Fish Head End have been cheated by…what’s your name, sir? I’d like to know the name of the man who’s attempting to scam innocent women traveling alone. And perhaps even myself. One coin silver for a night’s stay in a place like this…” He looked up at the ceiling and then back down at the floors, his lips pressed thin. “Nothing short of outright thievery.”
