What price is honour? Chapter two (1)

At the agreed time, the four of them met in the alleyway behind the
hall of stars. The day was hot and sunny, as where most days in
Luchelle. Yet clouds did hang in the sky, with some large ones drifting
along with the low wind. Brill had once remarked that Rain always came
when tragedy befell Luchelle. Faultner did not care for such talk, nor
did he hold any credit in it. But still, his eyes did drift upwards.

Faultner had made sure not to forget to bring his bow, quiver, and
pair of daggers from his home, leaving everything else for his landlady
to get rid of, for he had no plans to ever return to it. His weapons
were the same ones he had borne during his days as a scout, and he felt
no guilt about not returning them when he had been dismissed. He had
made sure to dress lightly, without any great cloak. Stealth and speed
would be needed today, if he were to survive and get paid.

His fellows had all evidently been of the same mind as him, all
dressed simply, with weapons showing. The sight of people openly
carrying arms wasn’t unusual in any part of Luchelle, as bodyguards of
wealthy merchants, or even privateers for hire were a part of the city’s
fabric. Brill had his fine Short sword at his hip, his right hand near
it for a quick draw. Glarren had his great broadsword strapped to his
back, while Tisza had her curious little daggers in full view. Faultner
wondered of what make they might be, as they were oddly curved, with
strange designs on the hilt, but now was not the time for idle
speculation.

Without exchanging more than a nod to each other, the group began
their journey towards the Ismail family bank. They headed out northwards
towards the “mud-line”, the long established border between the Ache
and other districts. Their target was the open concourse near the west
gate, through which many travellers arrived to conduct business.

It was important that they were not seen leaving the Ache’s limits by
any guardsmen, as anyone who left in any direction other than towards
the Raggere district was immediately under suspicion, and subsequently
followed. Fortunately, they kept to the alleyways, which where
mercifully unobstructed today, and where able to pass the “Mud-line”
without being seen. For the time being, at least, luck was on their
side.

The west-gate concourse was already heaving by the time they got
there. Carts laden with goods, herds of oxen and sheep, and large crowds
of travellers arriving by foot poured through the wide open entrance to
the city, with the Guards who were meant to be checking people’s bags
merely waving everyone through, it being too early for them to really
care about their duties. In this environment, their group was able to
cross this human river with no difficulty.

They passed out of the crowd, and after taking a moment to shake dust
and sand off of themselves, they kept going, now taking the wider, well
tiled alleyways of the north west of the city. Here, little streams ran
close to the buildings, all of which were connected to the large
reservoirs that lay outside of the city walls, and channelled into the
many fountains and bathing houses of the wealthy quarters of Luchelle.
Here, the guards that did see them occasionally gave them a second look,
but otherwise ignored them. Unless they actually committed a crime,
none of them felt like risking the anger of the giant with the huge
sword.

It didn’t take them very long before they reached the place they were
looking for. Stepping out of the final backstreet before the square,
they took a moment to survey the scene before them.

They were now in the place known as “Oakes’s square”. Since the
earliest days of Luchelle’s prosperous history, it had been here where
those who practiced the trade of lending and handling money did their
work. Its name came from the oak benches from which the earliest bankers
had conducted their businesses, though those where now long gone.

In their place, grand offices lined the four sides of the square,
each the headquarters of one of the four large family banks, who over
hundreds of years had risen to dominance above all others, in struggles
that sometimes turned into all-out wars in the streets. Even now, they
vied with each other for power, none of them seeming to be content until
they were the only ones left standing.

Faultner’s group however, where only interested in one place today
and that was the grandest office of them all. Turning to the north side
of the square, they saw their long-planned target.

The Ismail family bank was situated in a three story building, which
differed greatly in style to its neighbours in the square. While the
other families built their banks in the Nikralkan style, with white
marble bricks and tall pillars, mimicking the ancient architecture of
their forebears, the Ismail family, who could trace their lineage back
to lady Luchelle’s grand army that came to claim this region for the
glory of Gardena, chose to build their bank in the manner one might find
in the heartlands. Built of painted wood, with fine, square windows on
each floor, its thatched roofed simplicity was merely a mask for the
true wealth that lay within. The Ismail, in their own words, where
trueborn Gardenan’s, who felt no need for grand demonstrations of power.
It was this same ethic which made this place the family’s home, as well
as their place of business. While their rivals all put great expense
into mansions near the walls, the Ismail’s instead stuck to their creed,
that being “ our trade, our life”. But as Brill had found out for a
small fee, the Ismail’s where out of the city, on business in the
capital.

Faultner knew he couldn’t just gawk at fine buildings all day.
Turning to Brill and Glarren, he gave a small nod in their direction.
Looking back at him, they nodded in response.

At this, Faultner turned and followed behind Tisza, who had already
begun the short run to their objective. Tilting his head back only once,
he saw Glarren and Brill making their way towards the front door of the
bank, Glarren already reaching behind his back, ready to unsheathe his
Broadsword. Putting them out of his mind for now, Faultner quickened his
pace, trying his best to keep up with Tisza’s quick strides.

In the direct centre of the square, they found what they were looking
for. Embedded into the tiles lay a round cylinder, which was the cover
of the manhole that served as an entrance to the sewers. With a quick
flourish, Tisza pulled the handle, and the hole became open. Without a
word, Tisza descended, almost seeming to dive into the black void. Not
wishing to be seen as a slouch, Faultner hastened his way down too.
Taking hold of the ladder, he climbed down for no more than five steps
before loosening his grip, letting himself glide down for the rest of
the fairly short fall.

Reaching the bottom, he found himself in a spacious, dark tunnel.
Doing his utmost to ignore the muddy water running about his feet, as
well as the not so charming odours of the sewer, he looked about
himself, and saw that Tisza was already making her way forward, in the
direction of their next target.

They walked in silence, both preoccupied with the task at hand. As
they walk, the sewer became narrower, the tunnel walls closing in around
them. Before long, they reached the point where they both knew they
must crawl, as they were now directly beneath the Ismail bank, and
nearly at the entrance.

Getting on their hands and knees, they began the crawl. Tisza took
the lead, as it was her task to open the way to the vault. Faultner
could not help but grimace a little as his hands touched the tunnel’s
floor, its touch slimy and foul. Even in his days as a scout, he had
never enjoyed grime and muck, and had done his best to avoid places like
this whenever he could.

Looking up, he could see Tisza crawling ahead of him. For a moment
his gaze lingered, before he remembered himself and set his eyes firmly
to the ground. From what he knew of the woman, he had the impression
that she would definitely not appreciate glances of that sort. Besides,
he could not let anything distract him, not now they were so close.

Thankfully, Tisza was paying him no mind, and before she and Faultner
had crawled more than forty yards, they abruptly stopped. Before them
was a small wooden door, round and heavily bolted. This was their
entrance to the bank’s basement, wherein lay the vault. By now, Faultner
assumed that Glarren and Brill must already be in the bank, and would
now be in the process of shaking down the Clerks. He hoped that they
didn’t meet with too much resistance, as he had heard the stories from
Brill about what Glarren could do when he was made to get serious.

He was forced to snap out of his musings when he heard a sharp click,
and saw Tisza crawl forward through the now open door. He hadn’t the
faintest idea how she had managed to unlock it so quickly, as he didn’t
doubt that the Ismail’s spent big on details such as this. It seemed
Brill had been right to call her the groups “Ace in the hole”.

Crawling after her, he made his way through the door. As soon as he
was past it, he got to his feet, relieved that he could stand again.
Taking a quick look about him, he saw that they were now in a large open
room. The walls where lined with heavy grey stone, which was plain and
unadorned. Boxes where lined up around the place, no doubt filled with
stationary and other such pointless junk. He could see two doors heading
out of this place, one too his right, and another too his left. From
what he remembered of Brill’s maps, their route laid to the west, down a
corridor heading to their prize, the vault. The right led to their
escape, a stairway up to the main floor, where Brill and Glarren would
be waiting.

Tisza clearly knew this better than he, as she spared no time running
to the left, towards the door. Faultner ran after her, making sure to
keep up. They passed into the corridor, which was wide enough for the
two of them to run side by side. It was long, and many doors lined
either side of it, but already Faultner’s far seeing eyes caught sight
of the Vault. Already, he could tell from the locks and reinforcements
that the thing must be damn near impenetrable. He hoped that Tisza knew
what she was doing, or else they would be there till they starved to
death.

“You there stop! In the name of the Ismail family, I say stop!