Honor Amongst Thieves

Chapter 1 – The Manalian Job

Both moons hung brightly in the sky that night. Alenia and her more distant twin Narmele cast there light upon the beautiful port city of Tyro, resplendent with pure white marble buildings and beautiful lanterns and fabrics fluttering in the soft sea breeze, for tonight was a special night. Tonight Alenia would pass in front of Narmele, a feat which marked the beginning of the new year and a renewal of the promises of the Sea Goddess Ulien, who had sworn in the Old Times to provide those of Tyro with a free harvest of fish once every year on this night, by making the seas swell to heights unnatural, indeed enough to flood the streets, but not the houses, and then recede, leaving it possible to pick fish off the ground, to feed the poor and homeless with. It seemed that the entire town had migrated to the town square to join in the celebration, for this night all people of Tyro were equal in their reverence of Ulien and in their joy of the feast about to be provided. Beggar mingled with noble, and all was joy and laughter, for tonight all grudges and misgivings were forgotten, never to be brought to mind again.

Poor fools, thought Artemis Sendant, smiling slightly on the roof where he sat alone in the dark. How can they believe that this feast is provided by Ulien? Is it coincidence that it occurs when Alenia and Narmele are as one? It must be as Old Terni says, it’s a gift from Tahira, Mother of the Twins, Goddess of the Night, and Protector of Rogues, (at this his smile widened) to us poor, starving practitioners of larceny and debauchery to get the common folk out of their homes. Oh well, if they don’t see it, it’s not MY job to enlighten them. His smile now full, he stood, silent and as graceful as a cat on the prowl, even his suit of black padded leather made no sound, and moved to an even darker edge of the roof, from which he proceeded to jump from rooftop to rooftop, never staying more than an instant in anything brighter than total darkness. He had a job to do.

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Artemis had been a fairly average lad growing up, not muscular enough to be able to put up decent competition in the neighborhood games of streetball, but just strong enough to avoid constant persecution from the gangs that had formed as he had grown older. As he had approached manhood, he remained much the same. He was of average height, somewhere around six feet, lithe, with a rather handsome face, blonde-to-brown short hair, blue-grey eyes, and smoothness of movement that startled many people. For that was where Artemis truly excelled, flexibility and dexterity. If a neighbor asked for help loading barrels into a cart for their trip to the town market, Artemis would call for his father, Pitien, or his brother, Aremo, for they were both muscular men, having spent all their lives doing the hard manual labor that came from running the family blacksmithing business. If, however, that same neighbor needed someone to climb up in the rafters of their barn to get the family’s mousing cat down, Artemis was up there in a heartbeat. He had spent his life doing inlay work for his father, giving all the pieces that his father and brother had made with hammer and flame the finer touches that made his family’s work a rich commodity among the nobles in the center of the city, far from the small suburb in which they lived, for although they specialized in armor, weapons, and other common metal items, it was common knowledge that if you asked for anything made of metal, and had enough money, you could always count on the Sendants to give you exceptional quality, from necklaces to mugs.

Artemis had lived there contentedly for 17 years, leading a lackadaisical life that had many of the older people of the area chuckling and remembering times before when they had had been as carefree and relaxed as young Artemis. The young maidens of the surrounding area also giggled due to Artemis, but for a different reason. His relaxed attitude towards life and the chivalric and polite attitude with which he dealt with women, so rare in the somewhat rough-and-tumble outskirts of a big city, had attracted to him a small following of those hoping to win his affections. In fact, it was partly due to this that Artemis decided to change his life forever.

“Father, I’m going to leave this house tomorrow,” stated Artemis rather casually at the dinner table one evening, causing his father to almost choke on his stew.
“What do you mean, Artemis?” asked Mariana, his mother, as Pitien recovered.
“I’m sorry, Mother, but the simple fact is, I’m bored.”
“What do you mean, you’re bored?” asked his father, more shocked than angry at this point.
“Well, there’s nothing here for me to really get into. There’s your inlay work, which I used to love, but now find routine, and as far as romance, there’s nothing here to catch my eye, and, frankly, I’ve memorized the fastest route to any point in the rafters of any barns nearby, so even the cats don’t give me any excitement anymore.”
“Oh, come now, brother, how can you say there’s no romance for you here? I know of at least four lovely girls who have pleaded for me to take their case to you. Even Julianna, that beautiful serving wench from the Hog’s Head fancies you. Choose one and let the fun begin.” Aremo chuckledn then added “Sorry Mother,” at Mariana’s reproachful look.
“I know that, Aremo, trust me, and I know that I should be happy to have them, but the fact is, I’m not. All these girls around here that I’ve seen are lovely examples of their sex, but they lack something inside, a certain fire, if you will, that makes it impossible for me to fancy them other than for their bodies, and I respect them all too much to play with their heart to get to the rest of their body. No, my mind is made up, as of tomorrow I am heading in to the center of Tyro to find myself some work that challenges and excites me, and, if the gods allow, a woman I can truly love.”
“But what of the business? You have skill, my boy, skill that is far too expensive for us to hire off the street! We’ll flounder if you leave!” interjected Pitien in a last attempt to keep his son from leaving his care.
“No, Father, there is one here at this table who is even better than I am, though you don’t know it yet,” Artemis said with a smile. “Little Elianna,” he said, turning towards the fifth person at the table, a young girl of thirteen, whose eyes had rapidly grown large. “She has been watching me work for the past 5 years now, although I know it is against your rules that a child, especially a girl, to be in the forge. In all honesty, I needed the company. At any rate, over the last year I have let her work on some of my pieces when we got a large order, and not only did you not notice when you inspected them, you indeed declared them my finest work!” he chuckled. Pitien’s face was a study in utter astonishment, then it sagged in defeat.
“Very well, if this is what you feel you must do, I cannot stop you.”
“But Arty, does this mean we’ll never see you again?” asked Elianna, fearing the answer.
“Of course not, Eli! I’ll make sure to stop by at least once in a while, I just need a change of scene. I’m still your brother, as I am Aremo’s, and I am Mom’s and Dad’s son, and I love you all too much to leave you behind forever.” After this, brother and sister embraced, and the whole family resumed its meal, talking and laughing as jovially as ever, and in the morning Artemis packed up what money he had, took the fine rapier his father had insisted on giving him (“It’s dangerous in the city, and the gods know you spent enough idle time practicing with it”), said his goodbyes, and headed into the city.

Unfortunately, the center of the city turned out to be much like the outskirts Artemis had grown up in, except faster and louder. He spent the first week or so in a comfortable little inn, trying to find a job that caught his interest. Being a Sendant could have automatically gotten him a job in any of the competing blacksmiths in town, but he had already decided to avoid that line of work. Sadly, there were few jobs available for a person with his particular skill. Being in the center of a port city meant employers were looking more for people with strong backs than deft hands. The one professional locksmith in town, a profession for which Artemis had had considerable interest, was not looking for apprentices, and clockmaking was even more routine then inlay work. He would have tried alchemy, if he hadn’t thought they were merely chasing a dream, and killing themselves in the process.

Even the women were similar. There were the classic types, all laid out before him, just as it had been near his home, except they seem to come in greater amounts in the crowded city. Here was the lovely girl without a brain in her head. There was the rough-and-tumble girl who talked loudly and didn’t have an ounce of true class in her. Behind was the timid girl, nice, smart, but too afraid to show that she had a personality at all. No matter where he looked, it reminded him of home, but for all the wrong reasons. It seemed that there truly was not a niche for him, a job that could excite him. He didn’t tell his family this, of course, they having much more understanding and supportive than he had expected, knowing that they would simply encourage him and give him more money to help him find his dream, and, although they were fairly well-to-do as compared to some where he came from, he could not accept their money, as a matter of personal ethics. So Raglar the Merciless, God of Time, kept his minutes on their never-ending march, and the money ran out, and Artemis Sendant left the inn to live on the street.


It started a few days after he had been forced out of the inn by lack of money. He had grown hungry and had wandered into the market square. He went in intending to ask one of the larger bread vendors out on the street for a piece of bread, knowing that the baker could afford it easily. However, that day the square had been even more packed than usual, and, try as he might, he could not attract the baker’s attention. That’s when it happened.

I’ve just shouted at him, Artemis thought. If that doesn’t attract his attention, I doubt this will. So thinking, he took a small roll from the edge of the table and hid it using a variation of a coin trick he had taught himself in his spare time back at home. Suddenly, he saw a stranger glance his way oddly. His heart raced as it never had before, the fear of being caught flooding his mind. However, the stranger, seeing both hands empty and unable to see anywhere bread might be hidden easily, looked away, figuring his eyes had been playing tricks on him again. Artemis backed out of the crowd, and proceeded to run into an alley to eat his ill-gotten goods. Even though it was a simple roll, it tasted sweeter than any dessert Artemis had ever had. That day he had decided that he would steal to survive, and more than that, to feel alive!

He knew he wasn’t very good, so he stayed with purloining small amounts of food at crowded street vendors for a month or so, practicing, honing his skills. Finally, when he thought he was ready, he tried for a belt pouch in the town square.

He had found his mark, a rather large purse hanging loosely off the belt of an obviously very wealthy gentleman. Having decided early on to only take from those who would not miss it much, this was the perfect opportunity to try it. He made his first pass by the man, apparently on his way to check out a glassware kiosk. Still the man stood there, waiting for someone was Artemis’ guess. He made his second pass, from the man’s back right to his front right, opposite the bag. Still no reaction, as the man just stood there, scanning the crowd. Now was the time, the final pass, from front left to back left, hopefully with bag and not man in tow. He approached, he was next to, he grabbed, he lifted, he held, he continued to walk, he was past, with a heavy bag in his left hand which was rapidly concealed, and no reaction from the man. Artemis continued to walk out of the square, rejoicing in the weight of the bag in its hiding place, knowing in his heart he could now live a happy life, working the streets, and none would be the wiser. He smiled as he ducked into an alley to see his new treasure.

He withdrew the bag and opened the drawstring. His hands, trembling for the first time in his life, went in and grasped…a rock? His shoulders slumped.

From a few feet above him he heard a sudden chuckling, a sound so unexpected that he bobbled the rock in his hand before regaining control of it. Looking up, he saw a middle-aged, skinny man apparently sitting with his feet stuck to the side of the wall.
“Well, young sir, not quite what you were expecting to find, was it?” the strange sorcerer asked.
Recovering quickly, Artemis answered with an equal amount of civility, “No, good magician, I must say it was not a rock I was expecting to find, though I daresay if need be it could fill my belly just as well as a full hot meal could.”
The man gave a laugh and jumped down beside Artemis, landing almost inaudibly, although Artemis though he heard a slight metallic clack against the cobblestone pathway. “By the gods, you’ve got a quick hand and a quicker wit, though I daresay the knowledge of this fine city’s inner workings are still a bit beyond your ken. I am no sorcerer, but I am the leader of this wondrous city’s guild of thieves, and what you’ve done, my lad, is ruined a half a day’s hard work for one of my apprentices, by hitting his mark before he could. You were quite good with it too, I’ll give you that. I doubt I would have caught it in a crowd, had I not been keeping my eye on my lieutenant so I would know when the boy had robbed him. So what about you, lad? Where do you hail from? Lieutenant of the Barten City guild, perhaps?”
“No, good sir, I am a native of fair Tyro, having come to the center of it from the outskirts about 6 weeks ago, by my reckoning. I also belong to no guild, other than the thieve’s guild in which I am master and apprentice, and everyone and everything in between.”
“Well then, my young man, that rock was to be my apprentice’s pass into the full guild, but, given your display of talent, I offer to make it yours instead. Will you join us?”
“May I choose to leave if I find it disagreeable?”
“Yes, I will not stop you, though I would ask that, should you choose to do so, you ply your trade elsewhere, as a compensation for us.”
“I find this acceptable. Artemis Sendant, at your service, sir.”
“And I am Terni Rendis, at yours, though you may call me Old Terni, as all the others do.”
And so it was that on that day, Artemis was accepted into his new job, his new circle of friends, and his new life.

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Artemis remembered all this fondly as he caught sight of the target house. Since then he had risen in the ranks of the guild quickly, becoming Old Terni’s right-hand man after only three years. He knew that he wasn’t the best thief in the group, for Rane was quieter then he was, and Trap was better at, well, disarming his namesakes, but Artemis liked to think he was pretty damn good at those, and there was no one to beat him at picking locks. However, he was also Terni’s right-hand man for another reason. He didn’t want the money. Often one of the lower-ranked thieves would try to keep more than his cut of the job. Sometimes Terni let them get away with it, sometimes he wouldn’t, but they all tried anyways. Except for Artemis. When Terni had asked him why he was always honest, and often gave some of his own cut to the guild as well, Artemis had replied, “All I ever wanted out of this life was food, shelter, enough money to live fairly comfortably on, and love. This guild has given me three of those four, and so I think I owe it to the guild to give it what I don’t need.” Along with his ability to have flashes of wisdom when a conflict was particularly tangled, and the rest of the guild thought he deserved that post as much as Old Terni did.

I owe a lot to Old Terni, he reflected as he surveyed the target, watching for any security measures, such as dogs or guards. He taught me the true tricks of the trade, from the boot hooks he used at our first meeting, to smoke bombs for when a job goes bad, to proper etiquette when at a high-class dinner to gain some knowledge of the interior of a target building. At this he smiled for the second time that night, while also paying attention for any tingling from his neck hairs signaling a magical ward. He had been hit by a warding spell once, and had a hard time explaining how he had burned his hands and singed his eyebrows off while working for a locksmith when he had visited his family that week. He still went back, of course, whenever he had a good chunk of spare time. Pitien and Aremo still worked in the family smithy, though now Mariana had Aremo’s new wife, Julianna the serving wench from the Hog’s Head pub, to help with meals and cleaning, along with bringing in some more income. Elianna was growing into a fine young woman, and apparently had a boyfriend, someone named Hadren, one of the O’Connors from a few streets over, if his brother had told the truth on his last trip. To Artemis, she’d always be the little girl watching him in awe as he worked on the detail of a new sword or a silver chalice. He’d also heard she’d surpassed him in quality, as he’d predicted she would. Told you she would, Dad, he thought jokingly to himself as he satisfied that there were no immediate threats to being discovered. No more time for reminiscing, time to go to work.


Normally Terni himself would never have risked stealing from this important a family before, but this was a special time. First off, it was celebration time, which meant that the house would probably be a lot less secure than at other points, with any servants or hired guards either having their own private parties in their masters’ rooms or down at the square, with the rest of the revelers. Second, Terni would have come, but he always preferred simple pickpocketing to true robbery. Thirdly, recently there had been a new player in town, perhaps a whole new guild, that had been making quite a name for him/themselves, which had been cutting into Terni’s guild’s profits, and Terni figured being in the crowd would allow the guild to spot this new player/s. However, they couldn’t let a chance like this pass by, and so the old man had sent Artemis.

Artemis didn’t complain. This was his kind of job. Simple, straightforward, plenty of intelligence gathered at the feast he had snuck into and been a part of, and an easy-to-take primary focus. He had seen it at the feast. It was incredible, as much a work of art as a piece of jewelry. It was an intricately designed diamond-encrusted necklace, with the centerpiece of the ensemble being a beautifully cut large sapphire in the shape of a heart, surrounded by emeralds. He had wanted it for its beauty the instant he saw it, not even considering its monetary value. He also had a few things he wanted to pick up for himself. What could he say, the wine was good.

He snuck across the back lawn, thanking Tahira for the small mercy of having all the back windows closed and their curtains down. He could have worked around them if they were open, but this made his job much simpler. Closing the distance to the back of the house, he counted windows until he found the one he wanted. He knew that this window would lead to the library, as he had been in the library himself to unlock the window and draw the curtains himself. What was best was that I did it with that woman talking to me all the time, and she never noticed! Ah, but she was beautiful. He pictured her in his mind as he listened for sounds beyond the window. She truly had been one of the most beautiful women he’d met since coming into the city. He had been an inch or two shorter than he was, with beautiful hazel eyes that could capture a man if they looked into them for more than a few seconds. She had had charming freckles on her cheeks, and a brilliant smile that had caused him to not be able to help smiling too. She was thin, but not like most women he’d seen, more of an athletic litheness than a lack of eating, he was sure. Although he made a point of never staring at a woman’s breasts, what he had seen from his peripheral vision told him that they were a good handful each, not too much, just enough to handle easily in each hand, which happened to be the kind he found most attractive, as opposed to the large breasts that many others seemed to prefer. What he remembered most vividly, however, was her hair. It was the epitome of perfection of red hair, as far as he was concerned. She had it long and straight, so he could tell that it went to her shoulder blades, and it seemed to shimmer with its own radiance whenever she’d turn her head. He had no doubt that beautiful red hair would stick in his mind for quite a while, even if he never saw her again. Too bad she was like all the other aristocratic women, concerned with jewelry and art, and not an ounce of true personality showing through. Still, she was more charming than many of the women I’ve met, perhaps if she had had a different upbringing… He ended that thought before it could go any farther. He loved his life, but he had to admit it was a lonely one. Many were the nights he’d lay awake, wondering if he should just give up and pick a mediocre lass, someone who he might grow to love, if he tried. Try as he might, he couldn’t, and so he continued in his lonliness.

Thanks, T, my bonny goddess, for keeping it unlocked, he silently prayed to Tahira. He always enjoyed the thought of having an informal relationship with the gods. Slowly, silently, he lifted the window, pausing to grease it once when it seemed about to stick. Slipping ever so carefully into the room, he paused yet again to let his carefully trained ears to separate the sounds of the house for him.

Upstairs. Hmm. Well, looks like I was right about that private party. Good for them, hope they don’t get caught, or they’ll be fired on the spot, he silently chuckled. Wait, was that a cat jumping down? I don’t remember a cat…but it was too soft for anything else, I’ll just have to be more careful next time. Down here…nothing. Good. To work, then.

Sneaking out of the library, he first headed to the dining room to pick up his private gift to himself, a bottle of that exquisite red wine he had had while talking to the aristocrat in the library. Perhaps I’ll toast to her later. Now then, for dessert.

He snuck slowly up the nearest flight of stairs, taking half a minute for each step to listen and look for any form of trap, although the sounds of loving coming from the far right door on the upper floor lowered that possibility in his mind. Finally, he made it to the top of the stairs. He had found the master bedroom on the pretext of drunkenly looking for an old friend. Making his way to the door, he silently knelt and got out his lockpicks.

Why, in the name of the gods, would you put a keyhole lock on a bedroom door? Hmm, yep, locked, looks like a complex one too, this’ll take…this lockpick! Ok, there’s one tumbler…but really, why? A lock I understand for privacy’s sake, but a key? Why? OOOOhhhh, of course! That’s rather sweet, actually. To show that they are always open to one another, no matter how they are. Bit daft, as it now allows me to get in easier, but still very IN THE NAME OF TAHIRA!

During his line of thought, Artemis had allowed his hand to work on automatic, as they had picked so many similar locks before. However, he had forgotten one very important thing. Opening locks click.

He sat in silence, listening to the house. He couldn’t seem to hear anything from inside the room, though he was too afraid to move to get the listening device from where he had it stowed to be sure. He counted to 100 in his head, and still no change came to his ears from anywhere in the house, which caused him to silently congratulate the couple at the other end of the hall for their ability to keep up that pace that long. Luckily, the lack of change meant that no one had heard the click.

Slowly, with even more care than usual, Artemis stood up and slowly, almost painfully slowly, opened the door. He surveyed the room. There was the lady’s wardrobe, which might house the necklace, plus a few choice gems. There was the bed, mage professionally, no doubt, though there appeared to be a human-sized dent in it. Guess the staff might have a bit of explaining to do if there are stains along with that dent. There was the window, curtains still down, blowing gently with the cool night air behind them. There were the dressers, and on one of them…ah HA! Knew I’d find you, o necklace, mine. Anyone who can afford to risk having you alone on a dresser can also afford to have me take you off said dresser, especially since they are one of the richest families in the entirety of the country of Manaly. Creeping forward, still not giving up caution, for too many of his friends had relaxed on jobs and gotten caught, he came ever closer to the necklace. Finally, he was a few steps away. Hearing nothing except the rhythm of his own breathing, the rhythm of lust from down the corridor, and the rhythm of his heart slowly speeding up in his chest, and satisfied there were no hidden traps on the necklace, or the sapphire heart itself, he reached out a black-gloved hand…and paused…wait a minute, the curtains are blowing? But the window was closed when I saw it as I entered downstairs…

At that instant, almost too fast for his already racing mind to register, another black-gloved hand shot under his and grabbed the necklace at the same time he felt a dagger press into the small of his back. “Sorry, dear,” a feminine voice filled with mirth whispered softly in his ear, “but considering I got in this room before you, and I saw it first, that’s MY heart you’re trying to steal.”

Counting on surprise, Artemis quickly turned on his right heel and smacked the unknown woman’s arm away with his own right arm, then quickly reached for his rapier, the same one his father had given him so long ago, and with which he continued to practice. However, to his dismay, he saw that not only had the woman recovered, but had in fact spun with the blow and managed to end up out of reach of his rapier and with the dagger now in a throwing position. He removed his gaze from the dagger to look at this person who he was sure was about to end his life, and gaped as beautiful red hair fell over the shoulders of the fellow thief in the room.

“You?!” whispered two voices as one, as the tumult down the corridor reached its peak.

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A/N: This story, its plot, characters, and anything else you ma find associated with it are the property of the author. Any similarity between real people or events is purely coincidence, unless you paid him. Don't even think of claiming otherwise.

Oh, and please review.