Read Online Night's Haunting by Matthew Sprange - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Matthew Sprange
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lawless elements of the city. You don't need my promise for that, you will see it for yourself over the next few days. You will have to pay for law and order, but with peace comes prosperity. Already, immigrants from other Vos cities are arriving, and we will draw more people in from the Anclas Territories. Lord alone knows they will be happy to move out of that hell hole. More people means more customers, Master Perner. I am sure someone with your acumen will find a way to take advantage of that."
Setting the demand down before him, Reinhardt sighed in frustration. Without running precise figures, he already guessed he would be paying the Vos government more than he had ever paid the thieves' guild. On the other hand, he had already seen business start to grow since the Preacher Divine had arrived in Turnitia so maybe, just maybe, there was something in what the Councillor was saying. He forced himself to smile.
"Of course, Councillor, you are quite right. We must all pay our share to maintain this fine city. You certainly have my full support."
"That is good to hear, Master Perner. And I am sure we will be seeing you at the service tomorrow morning at the Cathedral. You and your entire family."
"Tomorrow morning? I am afraid that will be quite impossible, Councillor. I have deliveries to take in and customers to-"
"It was not a request," the councillor cut in. "The priesthood of the Final Faith have some important messages to tell you. I am sure you would not want to miss them. Ever. I am telling everyone in this quarter the same thing."
Reinhardt frowned, but he took the councillor's meaningful look on board. He cleared his throat.
"Of course, councillor. Our spiritual health is just as important as the maintenance of the city's economy."
"I am glad you agree. As I said, decent people like yourself are what this city needs. You work for the betterment of Turnitia, and you will find yourself prospering in ways you cannot yet imagine."
The councillor stood and bade him good day before leaving. Reinhardt watched him depart, a worried expression on his face. He always knew the city would pay a price in accepting Vos, but for the first time he began to wonder just who they were all making a deal with.
Harker reached down to feel the mule's leg, pretending to locate a sprain. His eyes, however, were roving up and down the street, searching for any sign of a patrol of Vos guards. He had timed the patrols, of course, and was reasonably sure that his thieves would be undisturbed for at least a half hour, but it always paid to be prepared.
The rest of his team was inside the warehouse and, every few minutes, they trotted out with boxes, sacks and crates. It was a straightforward theft, a relatively easy job here, in the merchant's district. Rows and rows of warehouses supported Turnitia's economy, with goods coming in every day by both sea and road. The city had not lost its reputation for independent trading, even with Vos now in control, and it was still discreetly a hub for merchants of no political affiliation who wished to trade across the divide between Vos and Pontaine.
The thieves' guild monitored the district daily, and Harker specialised in low-cost commodities from warehouse break-ins. Though individual hauls generated smaller profits, they were largely risk free and he could run several in the course of one profitable afternoon, whereas other thieves might spend a week planning one job for a precious prize guarded by mercenaries, soldiers and traps.
A loud rattle arrested his attention, and he saw another cart pull out of a side street, laden with boxes destined for the port, or perhaps just another warehouse. The labourer leading the mules looked tired and bored, but nodded at Harker as he passed.
Harker inclined his own head in greeting; just two low paid labourers sharing the common bond of their work. He returned to his mule's leg, keeping the labourer in his peripheral vision, but the man and his
Setting the demand down before him, Reinhardt sighed in frustration. Without running precise figures, he already guessed he would be paying the Vos government more than he had ever paid the thieves' guild. On the other hand, he had already seen business start to grow since the Preacher Divine had arrived in Turnitia so maybe, just maybe, there was something in what the Councillor was saying. He forced himself to smile.
"Of course, Councillor, you are quite right. We must all pay our share to maintain this fine city. You certainly have my full support."
"That is good to hear, Master Perner. And I am sure we will be seeing you at the service tomorrow morning at the Cathedral. You and your entire family."
"Tomorrow morning? I am afraid that will be quite impossible, Councillor. I have deliveries to take in and customers to-"
"It was not a request," the councillor cut in. "The priesthood of the Final Faith have some important messages to tell you. I am sure you would not want to miss them. Ever. I am telling everyone in this quarter the same thing."
Reinhardt frowned, but he took the councillor's meaningful look on board. He cleared his throat.
"Of course, councillor. Our spiritual health is just as important as the maintenance of the city's economy."
"I am glad you agree. As I said, decent people like yourself are what this city needs. You work for the betterment of Turnitia, and you will find yourself prospering in ways you cannot yet imagine."
The councillor stood and bade him good day before leaving. Reinhardt watched him depart, a worried expression on his face. He always knew the city would pay a price in accepting Vos, but for the first time he began to wonder just who they were all making a deal with.
Harker reached down to feel the mule's leg, pretending to locate a sprain. His eyes, however, were roving up and down the street, searching for any sign of a patrol of Vos guards. He had timed the patrols, of course, and was reasonably sure that his thieves would be undisturbed for at least a half hour, but it always paid to be prepared.
The rest of his team was inside the warehouse and, every few minutes, they trotted out with boxes, sacks and crates. It was a straightforward theft, a relatively easy job here, in the merchant's district. Rows and rows of warehouses supported Turnitia's economy, with goods coming in every day by both sea and road. The city had not lost its reputation for independent trading, even with Vos now in control, and it was still discreetly a hub for merchants of no political affiliation who wished to trade across the divide between Vos and Pontaine.
The thieves' guild monitored the district daily, and Harker specialised in low-cost commodities from warehouse break-ins. Though individual hauls generated smaller profits, they were largely risk free and he could run several in the course of one profitable afternoon, whereas other thieves might spend a week planning one job for a precious prize guarded by mercenaries, soldiers and traps.
A loud rattle arrested his attention, and he saw another cart pull out of a side street, laden with boxes destined for the port, or perhaps just another warehouse. The labourer leading the mules looked tired and bored, but nodded at Harker as he passed.
Harker inclined his own head in greeting; just two low paid labourers sharing the common bond of their work. He returned to his mule's leg, keeping the labourer in his peripheral vision, but the man and his
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