A well-dressed man clothed in silk and cotton had entered the room, flanked by two others who strode in his wake. The man was middle-aged and greying, though he possessed an obvious vitality that the years had yet to touch. He smiled and Lucius immediately formed the impression of both confidence and trustworthiness. Of course, having spent time with any number of con artists and tricksters, he had learned to be on his guard when confronted by such people, but this man also had an obvious command of, and respect from, the other thieves present. His face was rounded and non-descript, except for his eyes which seemed to constantly sparkle with amusement.
The two men who flanked him were almost the complete opposite. Dressed in black leather with long knives at their belts, both exuded an aura of menace. Lucius thought, if there were such a thing as natural born killers, these two would be the definition.
It was not until the man was among the thieves and clamping a hand on the shoulder of one who had been on Caradoc's mission that Lucius heard someone thank him by name and understood who he was. So this was Magnus, the guildmaster of the Night Hands. Despite all the time Lucius had spent in the guildhouse recently, he had yet to meet the man, though he had heard plenty of stories about him. He recalled Ambrose once telling him that Magnus had been a lieutenant in the old Thieves Guild. When the guild had broken apart, it had been Magnus who had tried to centralise the scattered thieves into a new organisation, at great risk to his life from the guard and other, less pleasant forces. If half of what Lucius had heard was true, then he thought this would be a very easy man to admire.
After shaking another thief by the hand, Magnus turned towards Lucius, and smiled.
'And this would be our newest recruit then. Lucius, isn't it?'
'Uh, yes sir,' said Lucius, unsure of how to address the guildmaster.
Magnus waved the honorific away, though Lucius was acutely aware of the attention of his two bodyguards, who seemed to be itching for him to make one aggressive move.
'Just Magnus, please,' he said. 'You've done well tonight. Brink represents a significant account for us, and the return of his business is worthy of congratulations. I believe you are staying here now — eat and drink well tonight, you've earned it.'
'Thank you, err, Magnus,' Lucius said, as graciously as he could, though ale and discomfort vied to tie his tongue.
'Get some sleep too. Then come upstairs tomorrow, feel free to explore the place. Perhaps we'll speak further.' One of his bodyguards whispered something into Magnus' ear that escaped Lucius hearing. Magnus sighed.
'Ah, that's right. I am afraid I must leave you all now.' He looked back at Lucius with a smile. 'Pressure of the job you know, they never let up. Welcome, Lucius, I have a feeling you will do well for us here.'
As Magnus swept out of the room, the others clustered about Lucius, slapping him on the back and shaking his hand. Through their own celebrations, it took them a while to see that Lucius was thoroughly confused as to what was happening. It was Ambrose who took him to one side to explain.
'You've done well, lad,' he said. 'I knew you would.'
'I don't follow.'
'Caradoc must have given a glowing report of you while getting his leg mended. Only senior thieves, those who are full members of the Hands, are permitted beyond the ground floor. You, my friend, are now a true thief!'
Lucius smiled nervously as Ambrose thrust another mug into his hand before calling upon the entire common room to toast him. Raising his mug in return, Lucius thanked the thieves and, ignoring a wag calling for a speech, sank back into his chair, happy to listen to his peers talk business for the rest of the evening.
Morning came too soon for Lucius, and he awoke to find himself in the same chair he had collapsed in a few hours before. A few other thieves were also in the common room, lying insensible, though most seemed to have had the sense to retire earlier on. As Lucius sat up, the world swam for an instant, and he leaned forward, burying his face in his hands as he waited for the after effects of the ale to subside.
His mouth feeling dry and pitted, Lucius stayed in that position until he lost all sense of time. No one else stirred in the common room, though he heard someone snoring softly in a far corner. Shakily, he stood, and wandered out to find water, both to drink and to wash. Running into Ambrose as the veteran thief scoured the kitchen for breakfast, he was invited to take Magnus up on the offer of seeing what else the guildhouse had to offer.
He spent the rest of the morning exploring the two higher levels of the building, and it seemed as though his eyes grew wider at each new sight. It was only now, when he could see the guildhouse in its entirety as a functioning, well-oiled machine, that he understood just how sophisticated the Night Hands were as an organisation. And how much work it took to keep the guild running on a day to day basis.
Three rooms were dedicated to maps and charts, scattered over tables, pinned onto walls, and rolled up on shelves that reached to the ceiling, ready for inspection when a mission demanded. The patrol routes of the Vos guard were accurately timed and drawn on one map, allowing any thief to see exactly where blind spots would appear and when. Floor plans of many buildings in Turnitia were collected in the stacks, and Lucius watched another thief pour over one as he devised his next robbery. Information was collected on people as well as structures, and he learned that the libraries were considered to be living things, constantly added to as the guild learned more and more, for the benefit of all its members. A laboratory was present, allowing thieves to make all manner of concoctions, from smoke and sleeping powders, to deadly poisons that would ensure no enemy of the guild would survive for long. There was even a training room, suitably soundproofed with targets for shooting or knife practice, a ring for blade training and, round the edges of the over-sized chamber, a running course across which could be strewn a variety of different obstacles.
It seemed, too, as though Lucius had not been wholly wrong when he had imagined a guildhouse with links to the sewer system of Turnitia, for that is exactly what this building boasted. Near the underground vaults in which the greatest stolen treasures were kept, as well as the guild's own vast treasury, were several secret passages that took a winding path down into the sewers. These were built to allow members to enter or leave the guildhouse freely, beyond prying eyes.
Lucius was later drawn back to the armoury, which lay next to the training room. Blades, spears, sections of armour and hundreds upon hundreds of various tools of the trade lay on shelves and in racks.
He saw a host of weapons of varying lethality and, having been told senior thieves were free to pick and choose from the armoury, started to inspect an incredibly well-crafted crossbow. Honed from a lamination of light but strong woods, a series of lenses in a wooden tube was mounted over the groove that took the bolt. Standing at a window, Lucius found he could adjust the lenses to bring far objects into focus. Fine wires within the tube marked exactly where a fired bolt would strike, should the target be within range. Other weapons soon revealed similar ingenuity, such as the sword whose pommel could be separated to draw a dagger from the hilt — useful if the main blade was ever broken.
However the weapons were the least of the treasure in this room and Lucius soon found himself exploring the vast cornucopia of tools, such as pots of swordblack used to dull a blade from reflections, dark silk bodysuits that could make even a clumsy thief silent, and the glass-cutting cups Hawk had used to break into Brink's house.
'There is just something about the mind of a thief that makes him fascinated by these toys,' said a voice behind him. Lucius turned to see Caradoc leaning against the door frame.
'This was where I came as well, when I was brought into the guild proper,' he continued. 'Though there were far less toys back then.'
'I am not sure I would call that a toy,' said Lucius, indicating the crossbow.
Caradoc smiled. 'You'll want to practice with it first. It is not as easy to use as you might think — you have to learn how to use the sights, or your shots will never land anywhere near your target. But I think you are quite wrong about these not being toys. All a good thief really needs is a decent blade, soft boots and his wits, the last being the most vital. It seems as if there is always someone trying to get an advantage, however they can. They come up with an idea, and try to build it. Some work. Some need constant revision, with many minds applying themselves to the problem over time. Which, really, is what this place is all about.'
Lucius nodded in understanding. 'How long have you been with the Hands?'
'Since the beginning. I knew Magnus from the old guild, and he brought me with him when he created the Hands.'
'You are close friends, then?'
