Thieves in the Night
I had to take a break from writing Tales of the Wanderers for a while... anyway I've used one of my characters (Sibuna) to create this tale.
18 yada yada yada, just follow the rules...
Sibuna the Barbarian
Thieves in the Night
Her name was Labala, or more affectionately known by the tavern men as Labala the whore. As her name implies many men knew her, it was an old joke that with the number of men who passed through her door would rival that of the barons Raha's army.
But to a few she was known as Labala the Thief. Many a merchant were seduced by her swaying hips, eyes which glowed like opals and her graceful movement like those of a Hatusa assassin... and many a merchant also found themselves robbed of every silver to their name and they were the latest victim of the leopardess Labala.
Such was the case of the trader Lacab. The lion like most Nmarians rather fat, and like most traders rather rich. Normally such a shrewd man would see right through a harlots ploy, but he like many of her lovers were seduced by her mesmerizing eyes...
It did not bother her to wait for him to fall into sleep, that was the best time. After the corpulent cat faded she would test to insure his peaceful sleep, then it was only a small hassle to pluck the rings from his finger like ripe berries, relive him of the pendent around his neck and collect his valuables then skulk away from his tent and find her way back to her den.
Such activities did not weigh upon her conscious, in fact she felt justified in living; she made humble men out of them. But she did understand that most were not immediately ready to thank her for her services.
This did not upset her. Her chief concern was to skulk back to her hovel with her ill-gotten gains. But first she would find her way to the house of the broker Arem-Juro to unload the loot.
"Why have you disturbed me at this hour?!" the Ram hissed from his cracked door.
"Arem-Juro? Have I ever wasted you're time?" the harlot whispered in a cool manor, ever vigilant to the town guard's rounds.
The door slammed shut then opened all the way and the Leopardess quickly ducked in.
The ram yawned then looked at her, his patience was none existent, just as he was about to open his mouth when she dumped the contents of the bag onto the floor. The Brokers eyes glimmered with the reflection of the shining wealth.
"My... and I always thought you a plaything of the innkeeper..." few things could arouse Arem-Juro like the sight of silver or gold; and the hoard the leopard had presented him with made his sheath plump up quit well.
"Yes... This will all do nicely," He began to take tally of the ill-gotten wealth; two silver platters, ivory necklace, a golden chalice set with semiprecious stones... but what drew his shrewd eyes was a pendant, made of silver it was no larger then a thick coin but set in the center was a jewel that shined like the eyes of an evil women.
"This shall fetch a good price my dear... might I ask whom the 'downer' was?"
The girl simply rubbed her legs together "A fat merchant by the name of Lacab,"
- + + +
The lion angrily drank from his tankard. He had just lost twenty Royals worth of goods and his prized pendant to the whore. He would be lucky to unload what little she had left him to make it back to his home, let alone halfway to Kuth.
He should have seen right through the harlots scheme, she had approached him while the Caravan unloaded and accompanied him to his tent, after he had fallen asleep she must have taken half of everything he had; his silver, his gold, his spices and his pendant. For all he cared the whore could have taken everything even the cloths of his back, but the pendant was the only thing he really cared about.
The Jewel it housed was no ordinary jewel, what rested in the cradle of silver was one of the fabled gems of Itril. Plucked the Queens own crown and set into her own silver, Priceless... and the whore would probably trade it for a sack of rice.
He had only become angrier after he had gone to village guard and found that they neither cared nor had the ability to do anything about this injustice. In the end he only found a pair of willing ears from a tavern-keeper and unbeknownst to him a tall spindly rat in the corner.
- + + +
The rat, was also known by the name of Renaa, or to the bandits in the open desert; Renaa the Throat cutter, and for good reason, he felt firmly that the fastest most economical way was simply to kill or maim the one you are robbing.
He had only half listened to the corpulent cat whine about being robbed, but when he mentioned what was stolen and of the harlot who robbed him, he instantly recognized her as Labala the whore. And felt he should pay her a visit.
He need only keep quiet to enter the hut of Labala; he found her lying asleep in her bed. When she finally awoke he had the knife to her throat.
"If you wish to live to suck another cock you will be quiet..." the words came softly but deadly. Her sleeping eyes had gone wide like the moon.
"Shhhhh... I will only kill you if you scream or refuse to answer me," his voice rarely became loud; it always stayed at a low sinister note. His eyes betrayed no emotion, the seemed like mirrors set into his eye-socket.
"Now... tell me my little harlot, who did you trade the merchants cargo to?" he slowly moved his vice like hand away from her muzzle, she simply shrunk away from him, she was good at stealing from the sleeping not the wide awake much less the cold bandit before her.
His hand suddenly moved like a blur and she cried out "I ask only one more time wench, whom did you trade the goods to?" his voice much more irate then before. His mirror like eyes became filled with determination.
"Arem-Juro! Arem-Juro!!" she gasped as blood flowed down her cheeks. A sly smile came to the rats face "Then I suppose I should kill you so you cannot warn Arem..."
Her eyes became wide and she shrank back in horror.
"That is unless you can offer me something in return,"
A wave of hatred flashed in her eyes "under my bed! My gold!" she was barely able to chock out, he grabbed her by her hair and jerked her too the floor, he then proceeded to flip the straw stuffed sack and pick the bag of rich from under it. He reached in and pulled a handful of gold and silver coins, they seemed to shimmer in the light.
Labala noticed his fascination with her gold and began to crawl towards the door, out of the corner of his eye Renaa saw this and before she could even get halfway his spun around and stomped his foot on her reaching hand.
"You should not have done that," his voice was filled with rage. She tried to scream but before she could even open her mouth he grabbed her muzzle and lifted her to eye level with him "I'm going to have to punish you," a sickening grin spread across the scraggily rats face, his dirty loincloth fell to his feet...
- + + +
The coldness of the desert night was beaten back by the fire. Around it sat three figures; a prissy looking Thranese Cat, an old possibly Cudean hyena and a tall thickly built jackal.
Across his back a sword sat waiting in its sheath, he was clad only in a sun-faded kilt and headpiece. He gazed at the flickering light through moody eyes.
"Old man..."
"Hmm?"
"Have you any of that tonic left?"
The old dog looked at moody barbarian, before handing a waterskin to him. In reality it was only rosewater with a few drops of lemon extract in it, but it seemed to calm the jackals sore belly.
The jackal drank the last drop and handed it back to the Cudean dog "Thanks," his voice was gravelly and hoarse.
"You should not drink to much of the stuff, it is not good for you," the Cat said blankly
The jackal laughed heartily "If I can drink a full tankard of blood ale I can handle this tonic of yours!"
The cat only sneered before changing the subject "Where is that fat Nmarian?"
"I saw him last walking with a camp follower," the old hyena said.
"If he got his throat slit by her who gets his cart?" the cat asked.
"You would wish you Thranese cur!" the lion slowly approached the fire.
Sibuna Smiled "I see you have lost your silver... but your gut and tongue remain?"
The lion hissed at him "The whore took everything, I don't have enough to even make it back to Nmar," his words came out venomously.
The cat stuck his nose in the air "What did you expect from a whore?"
"DO YOU WISH TO SPEND YOUR END IN A STEWPOT!?" the lion roared "FOR IF SO I SHALL MAKE SURE OF IT!!" his claws were outstretched.
His eyes shifted to the jackal "AND WHY DID YOU NOT CHASE OFF THE WHORE?!"
The jackal again reached for the waterskin "I was hired to fight off bandits and savages not harlots," he took a deep drink "besides how am I supposed to know who you are with when we reach a village?"
- + + +
If nothing else could be said about Arem-Juro it was that his mouth was sealed like a crypt, he would sooner die the give his riches away... and that was precisely what he had done.
Renaa was disappointed at how long the broker had lasted. He had seen elderly me chants hold on longer, the ram had only survived an hour of the rats questioning. But it was of little concern; he had wrapped the corpse of Arem-Juro in a thick blanket and deposited him in the corner. He now only had to search the hut for what he sought and then burn the place to the ground, then he would leave the village of Ilosis for good.
But it would only have been simpler if the blasted merchant had told him where he had hidden the gold! He deserved every cut of the dagger. Not that he did not greatly enjoy the activity, he had time to do this, it was only twilight he had all night.
He had first gone through the obvious places; his chest, his bed, his boots and eventually his belly. When this only turned up blood he moved to more unusual avenues; he dug up the packed earth floor, brook open the wine jugs and even shifted through the outdoor privy... with a stick of coarse. Only to come up empty handed and filthy.
He reentered the hovel. He kicked the gutted corpse of Arem "YOU HAD TO DIE!!" his voice was that of a dragon. His eyes went from burning to the same cold look that dominated his face. Something had fallen from Arem's belt. The rat carefully bent over and picked the small slip of parchment from the cold earth.
The glimmer had returned to his eyes; he needed nothing more from the former hut of Arem-Juro. As he made his way through the thicket of palm trees that surrounded the broker's home the red glare lit his path...
- + + +
To wander away from the safety of the campfire was foolish. He knew better then any of the caravan what evil lucked with red eyes and sharp fangs by rim of darkness. But he could hardly stand to be near the company of Traders any longer. He would risk the gnashing teeth of hell before he would sit silently and listen to the fat lion.
The path to the village was not long, and only the most foolhardy of men would dare to attack a jackal of his size. He was not worried about the few who would, the moon was bright tonight and he doubted he would even need the listen so hard for the footsteps behind him.
It was only a matter of minuets that the village lights were within the sights of the jackal. He was deeply considering simply sleeping in the small village tonight and in the morning using the gold he had to buy a horse and supplies, then leave on his own. To hell with the caravan! And to hell with the lion...
The village of Ilosis was small; it did not even hold a wall about it to protect it from bandits. Sibuna was accustomed to the lonely wilderness but even the most barbaric towns held some defense.
But the town was close to the city of Nuim. Bandits liked small towns far from the seats of vengeful kings, and Ilosis was of no importance. This perhaps made the village safer then one with walls.
Not that Sibuna was unaware of this, but the experience and participations in raids had built a weak sense of security in him. He would defiantly be leaving this town in the morning. But that did not mean he could not stop for a drink.
- + + +
Labala stalked slowly along the long street, she knew one thing, Arem-Juro would die this night. And she knew that he always kept his treasure with his thief brother. She was a terrible sight to behold; both eyes bloody, and bruises along her body... but neither sorrow or self-pity lay in her eyes But the burning fires of vengeance lay in her eyes... if Arem-Juro would die tonight he would have no need of gold, and she thought that the rat was not in need of it either...
She cleaned herself up and set of for Uta's hovel. She would seduce him, then get her gold and leave town... not before tipping the town guard to Arem-Juro's murder & murderer.
Uta was a thief, not a thief of the night like Labala, nor a Throat slitter like Renaa. But a lowly peddler of stolen goods, and if business was slow a pickpocket. His brother always supplied him with merchandise he thought himself above selling; Ponorar sap, devil root, trinkets and bits of rubbish that might catch the eye of a beggar. All new of these sales but none thought it worth their time; even the town guard cared nothing for the black sales.
Arem-Juro knew this better then Uta himself; this is why he had given over his hoard for Uta's safekeeping. The ram would not disobey his brother, and no thief would waste their time with him, the two taken together made the hoard safest in the bumbling peddlers hands.
Arem-Juro had doomed his brother in this sense as well, both Labala and Renaa were on their way to collect this treasure and Uta was little more then a obstacle.
The ram lay naked on his pile of staw, his eyes slowly opened when a rapping sound was made at the door
"Uta! Uta! Your brother sent me! Open the door,"
The heavyset door bolt clicked, and the ram draped only in a short kilt. His eyes delirious from the sudden wake up. She pushed him back into the door and came in after, shutting and rebolting the door.
- + + +
"I seek Uta the Peddler,"
The innkeeper only stared at the rat. His tavern was fill only with guards who snuck away from their post and a few drunks. The rat was neither.
"Why do you call upon a cur like Uta?" the keeper asked with his eye cocked.
"It is of no Business to you," the rat said in a cold almost emotionless manor.
The innkeeper sneered "If it no affair of mine why should I tell you?" he turned away, the rat felt his hands itch his dagger
"Did you say Uta? By Kux that dog sold me a blade that fell out of the hilt, when I returned to get my silvers back he was gone..."
The rat felt his hand slid away from his blade and his eyes look to the voice. A jackal sat and drank his ale, he studied him carefully; much to large to be a Cudean jackal or a Kuth wild dog, he was clearly one of the waste jackals. Who according to legend ate iron and pissed boiling oil. What he was doing so far from the great wastes was a complete mystery to Renaa, but it was of little concern.
"You? Know of Uta," the rat asked in calm manner.
The jackal took another swig from his ale "Aye, I found his hovel and demanded my gold, he called the guard and told them I was trying to rob him," he took another swig "Not a single honest trader in this town,"
The Innkeeper was about to take him up on the insult to him but took one look at the wickedly strong jackal and the nasty looking sword set across his back and decided against it.
The glimmer had returned "I to have been cheated by Uta, where is his hovel?" his voice was deceptively calm.
"What matter is it, he calls his friend the guard to stop any from taking their vengeance," the jackals voice was gravely and deeply accented with his own tongue.
The rat was patient "I wish only to know, so that I may bring the magistrate to him and demand my silvers back,"
It was a good lie, but the jackal still saw through it. Whatever this rats quarrel with the ram know as Uta was would end much more violently then even the hardened jackal could expect. Unfortunately for Uta the jackal cared little for the rams fate after being cheated out of his hard earned cash, and the Barbarian was a firm believer in self-administered justice.
"His hovel is on the outskirts of town, near the south well, the one with the unplastered wall," he took another drink.
The rat politely thanked the jackal and left.
- + + +
The ram panted softly, he assumed his brother had sent the prostitute as thanks for his good services. He now lay on his straw half asleep. The leopard waited for him to sleep, this time with less patience then she did the fat lion. Every now and again she would nervously look to the door and listen for footsteps.
She was almost ready to club him with a clay water pot next to his straw; every moment was becoming more dangerous. Finally the ram dosed off... the dance began.
She had to be quiet; if he were anything like his wiser brother he would wake like a tiger at the slightest sound. She first searched his pile of filthy rags, then carefully turned up loose dirt. After ten minuets she finally plunged her hand into the pot and searched... Nothing.
Her heart began to race, with every passing moment the risk of the rat walking in and finally having enough of her interference. She finally accepted more grim hiding places.
With grimace she walked slowly to the ram, she reached under his hanging sack and felt the straw...
"what?" the ram felt movement, Labala froze the rams eyes adjusting to the dim light.
"What's goin... Ohh," the cat held his sack and rolled it. Any fool would immediately know what was going on... but Uta was no ordinary fool.
"You want more? Ehh,"
Labala grimaced and made a sexy voice "...Why yes," she would put him under better this time.
- + + +
Sibuna walked away slowly from the inn. He would find a horse seller and wake him. Any stable keeper would be more then happy to sell a new horse at the cost of a few hours of sleep. He would leave and find his future some other place.
"STABLE KEEP! I am in need of a horse!" Sibuna shouted as he pounded on the door. From within a low growl sounded.
"I OPEN THE DOOR FOR NONE AT THIS UNHOLY HOUR! GO AWAY!"
Sibuna sighed and lifted his coin purse and rattled the gold and silver. The sounds of footsteps soon followed. The Stable-keeper opened the door quickly and ushered him in "Be quick and leave," the wolf said in a flat impatient manner...
- + + +
The ram snored loudly...
Labala continued her search and only turned a long forgotten silver coin up from the dirt. A slow hiss of irritation came from her. If she could not find what she sought she would have to bind the ram and force it out of him. Angrily she accepted she would have search the outside of this pitiful hovel.
The adobe hut was poorly plastered and many of the mudbricks were showing and worn. Around the small hut a short wall barely four feet high enclosed it in an unbarred gate. The earth was dry and loose, suggesting at one point a garden had been grown there. Bits of broken brick and leftover cob lay in piles and scattered across the ground.
Labala serched with the light of but one candle, she remained as quiet as a temple mouse, incase an unwanted visitor were to stumble into her. She did not wait long.
She heard the light footsteps of a thief and extinguished her candle; she flattened her body against the wall. At the gate stood a shadowy figure in the silhouette of a rat. Both were as silent as the dead and still as a corpse.
Determining there was no danger Renaa carefully continued his pace. Not before pausing at the blanket hat covered the door. The leopard waited until she heard the rat enter did she dare to move.
She listened carefully until she heard what transpired inside; Uta woke, the rat began his interrogation. She cursed silently, there was no more time. As she began to make her escape she felt something... a loose brick.
The only place she had neglected... she quietly pulled it out ignoring the ram's screams and felt the space inside, a small bundle of leather. She gripped it and fled...
Inside the screams grew loader...
The leopard cackled in glee, within the pouch were all the jewels and gold she had relived from the merchant. The rat was still probably trying to beat an answer from the idiot Uta. But if he got one it would be too late, she and the riches and were long gone.
She had little time to spare, her hut was now of little consequence. She had now only to speed to the gaurdpost.
Perhaps it was only an assumption but when Sibuna saw a cackling harlot lean over a small bag he was perfectly sure that this was leopard that had robbed the merchant lacab.
He cared little though over the stolen goods. He like the harlot had stolen a great many things. And he like her preferred fat merchants... but unlike her he did not take from the sleeping. Part of him wished to let her take her ill-gotten gains and be on his way east. But part of him wished to take her back to the merchant and prove to him he was a better mercenary then he would find elseware, it was simply a matter of the jackals pride.
"HO there! Where are you off to at this time of night?"
Labala gasped and tightly wrapped her hoard and stuffed it into her clothing "It is no business of yours desert dog!" she snapped
Sibuna frowned; he had only asked why a woman was out at this hour of night. Perhaps he should bring her to the lion.
"I shan't be judged by a harlot, let alone a thieving harlot," Sibuna said in a deep gravely tone.
Labala was taken aback by this, but she looked behind him and a sly smile came. She turned tail and fled into the palm groves.
"THE WHORE IS MINE DOG!"
Sibuna turned to see only to come face to face with a bony hard fist. He tumbled off the back of the horse he rode.
The rat held a still wet dagger; his shirt was covered in fresh blood. He shrieked in rage and drove his dagger in the direction of the jackal's heart! But unlike all the rats other victims the jackal was not one to lay and die. Sibuna rolled out of the way and sprang to his feet! As soon as he was upon his feet his sword was drawn,
Renaa was fueled by his epic rage, he charged again skillfully dodging swipes of the sword and sunk his keen dagger into the Barbarians broad shoulder! Sibuna gasped as he felt the blade sink in and warmth rush down his chest, he clenched his teeth,
The jackal roared in fury and punched the rat hard in the face! Renaa fell flat on the ground and groaned, when he looked up he yelped! Sibuna swung his sword and chopped it into the side of his neck.
The rat spurted blood across the face of the somber jackal... Sibuna Jerked his blade from the rats neck and stumbled back. He firmly gripped the hilt of the blade and ripped it from the mass of muscle with a wince. The jackal looked at the tiny piece of metal coated with his blood and tossed it off the side.
He prepared to mount his horse and stopped... he walked over to the fresh corpse and ripped the fat coin purse from the rats side "For my trouble," he torn a clean section of shirt and wrapped it around his wound...
- + + +
Labala cackled happily as she fled down the section of path, the desert dog would keep the rat busy and hopefully kill him.
She began to notice the path was familiar. She had wandered so long about this area they were all bound to be familiar. She sunk her hand into the bag; rubies, gold imperials, silver currents... she suddenly frowned, something was missing.
She was so preoccupied with the counting of the ill-gotten gains she did not even notice the shadow ahead of her... she walked right into the figure and fell backwards.
The stranger gripped her by her hair and dragger her twelve yard to a campfire. He released her and stood over her "Well, well, well, it appears it is true what they say; A rat skulks the same hole,"
The Merchant Lacab stood grinning over Labala. He had gone investigate rustling near the camp and found her. He reached down and grabbed the bag "Why thank you for returning this...
Sibuna soon wandered into camp, the wound had closed but his bandages were rust colored the merchants walked around him gasping.
"I'm going to need my pay now," he said, he looked over and saw the leopardess kneeling with a collar around her neck and a few new bruises. The lion held her leash and walked over to the jackal almost purring
"Why of course," he reached into the sack and pulled a handful of gold and silver. He counted out the pay; twenty imperials and twelve currants.
Morning
As Lacab woke he stroked his slave who was still in the forced kneeling position "why so glum... a pretty slave like you would catch a nice price in the market,"
He saw the jackal off the night prior then fell asleep. He pulled his bag of riches out.
"WHERE IS THE PENDANT?!"
- + + +
Sibuna laughed a hearty laugh as he rode. If nothing else could be said of the now late Uta, it was that he could hide things. While the harlot found the bag of gold, she did not look at the brick next to it to find the gems and pendant. The rat had forced a answer from Uta before slitting his throat.
He giggled in an almost childish, all along the rat had; Labala's, Arem-Juro's, Uta's Hidden Hoard and half the Merchants... as well as his own collection of silver on him when he fell to the jackals blade. What was hilarious was that all parties had paid him, and the merchant paid him twice.
He regretted that he would be there when the merchant realized this, but he could only assume it would be rich scene...
His laughter lasted as he rode off into the open desert. Laughter at the merchant, and laughter at the thieves in the night...
(feel free to use my characters and settings, please comment and feel free to give advice I still am a amateur writer...)