The Thieves’ Guild

Chapter Eighteen

The two Knights of the Lily guarding the door to the Lord’s Palace glanced at each other in concern. A woman they both knew by sight and reputation was gliding across the Great Plaza below, her long red robes flowing behind her as she walked, her hands folded together and hidden by the robe’s voluminous sleeves. The robe’s hood was pulled up just to the crown of her head, so that rather than concealing her face, it accentuated its handsome shape. A few strands of gray hair strayed from the hood to fall luxuriously over her shoulders.

She headed for the Lord’s Palace, and both Knights knew she had no scheduled appointment this morning. One glanced at his list of expected guests, just in case the name of Mistress Jenna had been added. His hopes were dashed. He looked at his companion, who returned his forlorn gaze with a sour grimace. Neither relished the thought of the approaching encounter. They gripped their swords as though these slender shafts of steel could somehow help them. Mistress Jenna, glancing up at them and seeing the resolve on their faces, did not slow her pace. She reached the foot of the stairs, where the great platform had stood for the Spring Dawning festival almost two months earlier. She mounted the stairs without breaking her stride.

The Knights stepped out from beneath the great arch of the palace entrance and met the great sorceress at the top of the stairs. She smiled patiently and moved to pass between them, but one held out a restraining, black-mailed hand. The smile faded from Jenna’s face. She stopped, stepped back, and settled her robes about her.

If this were any other citizen of Palanthas, the Knights would have acted forcibly. Because it was Jenna, the female Knight made an attempt at cordiality. “I am sorry, Mistress Jenna, but you have no scheduled appointment with the lord mayor this morning. Perhaps you would like to set an appointment? The Mayor should have a free moment sometime the day after tomorrow.”

“I am not here to see the lord mayor,” Jenna answered coolly.

“We cannot allow you inside,” the male Knight said in what he hoped was a steely voice. “Sir Kinsaid does not allow casual visitors to the Lord’s Palace.”

“There is nothing casual about my visits, Sir Knight,” Jenna snapped. “I go where I will, when I will, and how I will. I was here before you were born and I will still be here when you are gone. You will allow me to pass or you will tell Arach Jannon to come out here and meet me. It matters little to me, either way. Now hurry up about it. You may have nothing better to do than to stand in front of doors and act important, but my time is of immense value.”

“Yes, of course, Mistress,” the female Knight assented. She hurried away. The male Knight remained standing before Mistress Jenna, while she returned his gaze with an implacable look. He had fought pitched battles against ogres and minotaurs, sailed a galley into the teeth of a storm on the Blood Sea of Istar, but these were nothing compared to what he now endured. Soon, he could no longer withstand her scornful scrutiny. He made a show of turning his attention to those strolling about the Great Plaza, and the clouds of pigeons rising and settling at their passing. Gulls circled overhead, crying the song of the sea.

At last, when he thought he could bear it no longer, his companion returned. Breathlessly, the female knight apologized to Mistress Jenna, ceremoniously added her name to the roll of guests, checked the name off, and ushered the elder sorceress through the doors. When she had gone, the female Knight sighed as they resumed their posts by the door. “Now what do you suppose she wants with him?”

“Who cares, so long as she is gone from here. Wizards! Pah, may they all rot together,” the male Knight said boastingly.

The female Knight chuckled. “Brave words,” she murmured.

Her companion smiled at her ruefully. “To tell you the truth, I felt as though she had stripped off my flesh and was examining my very bones.”

Sir Arach Jannon’s chambers lay deep beneath the Lord’s Palace. He had chosen them ostensibly for safety’s sake, as he sometimes conducted delicate magical experiments that were best performed far from sensitive view. The hallways and stairs leading to the door, and the chambers themselves, were carved from the living stone beneath Palanthas long before the Palace itself was built. For two millennia, the chambers had remained largely unoccupied, used instead for storage and, during the Chaos War, as shelter for the Lord Mayor and his family.

Jenna surmised that Arach had chosen these chambers not to protect others from his sometimes-dangerous experiments but to force his visitors to walk half a league just to see him. She would have used a spell to transport herself, but the chambers were protected against magical intrusion, and she didn’t want its wards to deflect her spell and cause her harm. Her magic had grown too unstable of late to trust its use in such an inessential way.

Not that she would have admitted that her magic had grown unstable. The worst of it was, she had no idea why this was happening to her magic, and she didn’t know if other mages were experiencing the same troubles. She wanted to probe her grayrobed adversary, to see if his magic might also be weakening. She had to admit it would make her feel better if the problem was somehow rampant.

She found Sir Arach sitting cross-legged in mid-air, three feet above a fine rug from the minotaur island of Kothas. A juvenile trick! He smiled as she entered, and bowed his head in a mockery of respect. Showing off his magic like some hair-brained apprentice. How she wished the Thorn Knights, the magic-using branch of the Knights of Takhisis (Neraka!), could be forced to undergo the -tests once given in the Towers of High Sorcery. She felt sure it would weed out a good many of what she considered to be spellcasting yokels.

Jenna paused just within the doorway, refusing to go further until Sir Arach came down from his magical perch. With obvious reluctance and a frown at her poor sense of humor, the Thorn Knight unfolded his legs and lowered himself onto the rug, then removed the silver ring from his finger. He held it up between his thumb and forefinger to show her.

“Ring of levitation,” he explained. “It was confiscated from a kender three days ago at the Knight’s High Road gate. Would you like it?” He flipped it to her.

It bounced off the front of her robe and fell to the floor at her feet She did not move, did not even bat an eye. The ring rolled away, vanishing under a cupboard beside the wall. Arach watched it go ruefully, but he made no move to retrieve it He turned his eyes back to his adversary and found her eyes boring holes through him.

“Mistress Jenna, it is an honor to receive you in my humble chambers. Please have a seat. I will order tea.” The Thorn Knight swept behind a large, pockmarked desk and motioned Jenna to a low comfortable chair, but she remained standing at the door. Arach shrugged and settled himself into his own chair. He clapped three times, and a small bell dangling above the desk tinkled cheerfully.

“I don’t want any tea,” Jenna growled.

“Wine, then?” he suggested. “It is a little early in the day, but…”

Jenna scowled, but did not dignify his remark with a response.

With an obvious show of weary patience, Sir Arach folded his hands together and placed them on the desk before him. “How may I help you, then?” he inquired.

“Why haven’t you captured him?” Jenna snapped.

“Why haven’t I captured who?”

“I gave you bis name, told you of the magical boots I sold to him, all so that you could capture him. I haven’t time to chase down every thief and cutpurse in Palanthas. That is your job, Lord High Justice,” Jenna said with a sneer.

“When he surfaces, he shall be captured, I assure you,” Arach said confidently.

“Your assurances date back approximately two months.”

“Every Knight in the city knows his description, so if he shows himself on the streets, rest assured he will be captured. Meanwhile, his magical boots remain right where he left them. They have not been touched, and he has not returned for them. When he does, there is a glyph placed on the door of his dwelling, one that will stun him for several hours, allowing us to collect him at our leisure. Until that time, there is nothing else to be done.”

“Hmmph. A glyph?”

“I placed it there myself.”

“Very clever of you, I’m sure,” Jenna smirked. “Still, if you really wish to capture him, I suggest that you drop by the Three Moons tonight.”

“Whatever for?”

“Because the Guild plans to make an attempt on my house tonight,” she said.

“There is no Thieves’ Guild in Palanthas,” Arach asserted, his voice rising slightly.

“Cael Ironstaff will be with them,” Jenna continued, her eyes narrowing.

“How do you know all this?” the Thorn Knight asked suspiciously.

“Does it matter? All that matters is that it will happen. I strongly suggest, Sir Knight, that you be there.” With these words, she spun and, pausing at the chamber door, added, “Bring your glyph if it gives you pleasure!” She stalked out, her robes sweeping behind her. The door slammed shut with a resounding boom.