stopped and turned back to Lucius. 'Oh, and a word of advice while you are in the city. Always pay a beggar. You never know how fortune may smile upon you.'
Lucius was left standing as the man disappeared into the crowd. He shook his head in disbelief, for if this had been a scam, it was a lengthy process simply to gain a single coin. Quickly, he reached down for his pouch to make sure that it was still there and was reassured by its bulk, filled with the proceeds of the previous evening's gambling. Giving one more glance at the jewellery on the stall in front of him, he walked past it, heading towards the centre of the market.
Finding a single stall with a green awning was not a simple task, he soon discovered. The market was a riot of colours, with many traders shadowing their goods and potential customers from the sun with gaudy parasols, awnings and wind-breakers. These clashed with the silks, wools and furs, which in turn competed with brightly coloured signs proclaiming that only they had the best deals in the city.
The fountain was likely a new construction, for Lucius remembered no such decoration in this market years before. As he neared its carved grey stone, his thoughts were confirmed as he saw the tall and familiar figure of the Anointed Lord Katherine Makennon. Her statue stood as depicted in the many paintings that were spreading throughout the Empire as signs of piety and faith; plate-armoured, sword held high in readiness to strike down unbelievers and infidels. Long hair flew from beneath an elegant helm, its front plates open to reveal a stern faced woman. One hand was held low, as if offered for a kiss of fealty, and from this water flowed into a marble basin. People sat around the rim, but all were at an awkward angle, for one did not turn their back on God's own true representative. A squad of guardsmen were never far away to ensure this observance was followed in public.
After circling the fountain, Lucius finally found the stall he was looking for. The awning was indeed green but, unlike many others nearby, it looked as if it had seen better days. A quick inspection of the goods on display revealed that they were indeed best described as foreign junk. A few largely disinterested passers-by were collared by the animated man behind the stall, perhaps looking for a rare, yet cheap, relic or artefact among the detritus spread across the cloth-covered surface of the stall. Another man sat to one side, whittling away at a wood carved feline creature, either having fashioned it from scratch, or more likely, repairing some sign of damage.
Lucius sidled up to the stall, suddenly unsure of himself. He picked up a model of a ship, one of its masts twisting under the movement to hang by a thin strip of wood across the deck. The trader immediately turned his attention to the newcomer and started a practised spiel that described the model as a rare work of art from Allantia, honed by a fine craftsman whose name would soon spread throughout the peninsula, raising the value of investment in any of his works purchased now.
Lucius quickly looked at the other patrons of the stall then, seeing them take not the slightest notice of him, said quietly, 'I am looking for Ambrose.'
The trader immediately lost interest in him, quickly jerking his head toward the man whittling wood before turning back to more likely prospects. Lucius took the sign and placed the ship back on the stall.
'You Ambrose?' he asked, standing over the man as he worked. The man did not bother to look up from the carving he drew a knife over, and Lucius saw it was actually some fantastic creature that stood on two legs, with fierce gouging fangs. The man himself was middle-aged, thin, and dressed in a cheap black tunic.
'Depends,' the man answered lazily. 'You after a commission? Come back next week, I've got enough for now.'
'I'm after work.'
'Any good with wood?'
Lucius frowned, not certain he had approached this conversation properly. 'I don't think that is the kind of work intended.'
The man looked up at him curiously. 'Who sent you?'
'Some beggar,' Lucius said lamely with a shrug.
'You pay him for my name?'
'I did.'
'Good. You looking to work inside the law?' Ambrose asked.
Lucius smiled at that. 'I have a feeling that if that was what I was after, I wouldn't be talking to you. No, I have no great desire to work purely within the law of Vos.'
'Willing to take risks?'
'Of course. So long as the reward matches them.'
Ambrose put his wood carving on the ground and stood, looking Lucius up and down as if weighing his worth.
'You look fit. Can you run?'
'Faster than you would think.'
'And fight?'
'If I have to. Haven't been beaten yet.'
Ambrose shook his head. 'Everyone gets a beating once in a while. The sooner you learn that, the better.' He paused for a moment, then seemed to make up his mind. 'You'll start at the bottom — means you'll be working with the kids, but do well and we'll see what else you are capable of.'
'What's the work? And where?'
'Right here,' Ambrose said, sweeping a hand across the market. 'I'll put you on a team, you'll work the crowd. Earnings get pooled and split, with the guild taking its forty per cent. Listen to the kids in your team, they know more than you do. And stay away from the stalls, we don't rob them — we have too many friends among the traders, and we don't want you pissing them off.'
Lucius frowned. 'You want me to work as… a pickpocket. That it?'
Ambrose cocked an eyebrow. 'Too good for that line of work, are you? Let me tell you, I — and every thief I know, for that matter — started off on one of these teams. And I never regretted a minute of it. Learn the trade, and then we'll see what else you are capable of. If you are as good as you seem to think you are we'll find the right place for you.'
'I was hoping for some real money,' Lucius said, a little disenchanted as he saw his future boiling away to nothing more than petty crime and humiliating spells in the stocks. If, indeed, the Vos guard bothered with anything as trivial as stocks for captured thieves. He was surprised to see Ambrose smiling at him.
'I tell you what,' said Ambrose. 'You give me a week on a team. If you don't like it, if you decide it is not for you, if it is not bringing in the sort of money you are after, then we'll call it quits. You can just walk away, no harm done.'
Ambrose sat back down and picked up his carving again. 'But I have a feeling that once you see what a noble and skilled profession you have joined, you'll be less than ready to give it up.'
CHAPTER 3
The Five Markets had changed, at least for Lucius. No longer were they thronged with crowds wandering aimlessly between traders while trying to save a few coins on their latest purchase, nor was a chance opportunity floating elusively away from him. Instead, this place of commerce had become his hunting ground.
Ambrose had assigned him to a pickpocket team that same afternoon, and his new comrades were Markel and Treal, twin brother and sister no more than twelve or thirteen years old. The previous member of their team, a lad named Harker, Lucius learned, had been promoted to work within the guildhouse of the Night Hands, the title given to this band of thieves. Lucius was taking his place, but neither Markel nor Treal made any comment about his advanced years, even though pick-pocketing was a child's game.
Their acceptance of an adult as an equal, if anything, made Lucius even more self-conscious of what he was doing, and more than once he wondered how much further he could possibly fall. Still, Ambrose had promised that he would not regret the money that would soon be flowing through his hands.
The veteran thief kept a close eye on Lucius' team, and several others, directing them to different areas within the Five Markets, rotating each so suspicious guards would inevitably lose track of the children they had started to watch. The proceeds of their work were transferred to Ambrose regularly, and he quickly sorted the guild's percentage and scribbled down what was owed to each team in his own code, to be returned to each
