Honor among thieves

Chapter Fifty-Three

It didn’t take long for the thief-takers to make their first catch. That very same night they discovered a thief in the Golden Slope. By dawn Pritchard Hood was ready to make an example.

Still, if he’d expected to draw a great crowd for the hanging, Malden imagined he would be disappointed with the result. A pall had settled over Ness since the Army of Free Men decamped, a miasma of fear and worry that kept voices hushed and spirits low. Even as the thief was marched up to the gallows and the noose tightened around his neck, the jeers and shouts of the gathered crowd were subdued and almost mournful. Considering this was the best public entertainment in the city all week, it was a sad showing. Malden barely had to push or elbow his way through the crowd to reach the base of the gallows.

The bailiff seemed unfazed by the dispirited crowd. His eyes were bright as he read out the charges. “Let it be known that one Janbart, a notorious rogue, is found convicted of stealing a pewter cup chased with bronze from the house of the guildmaster Harrit Fuller, said burgess of the city being absent from his home on night the last. Let it be further known that under the authority of Ommen Tarness, Burgrave, I have found this man Janbart guilty, and have imposed sentence of death by hanging on this day. Janbart! Have you anything to say before the sentence is carried out?”

Janbart was a scrawny man of thirty, old before his time and none too steady of hand due to a fondness for drink. He looked even worse than usual up on the gallows platform-wasted and pale, as if he’d spent weeks in the gaol awaiting trial, though in fact Hood had pushed through the formalities with unheard of swiftness.

Malden was certain the man had been tortured after his arrest. The way he walked up the steps to the gallows suggested his leg had been clamped in an iron boot, and screws applied to his foot until he gave Hood what he was after.

He didn’t have to wait long to learn just why Hood would do such a thing. The bailiff wanted more than a simple confession.

“Must I say it?” Janbart whispered. If Malden hadn’t been in the front row of the audience, he would have heard nothing.

“You must,” Hood told the convicted man.

Janbart bit his lips and looked out over the heads of the crowd. “I will say only this, let my death be a warning to them that would follow the crooked path. The…” Janbart paused, as if trying to remember words he’d been taught. “… the Lady, verily, gave me every chance to be honest, and I rejected Her. Yet the blame is not entirely within me. If it were not for evil companions, namely one Malden, who is the master of thieves in this city, I would not be here today. I blame this Malden for my lowly end.”

People all around Malden took a step back, as if afraid of being associated with him. Only Slag stayed close by his side.

“That’s better,” the dwarf said when the two of them stood alone. “Now I can see.”

A sack was placed over Janbart’s head. Pritchard Hood bowed his head in a quick prayer and then nodded at the executioner, who placed both hands on the lever that would release the trap door under Janbart’s feet.

“Janbart!” Malden shouted. “I’ll see to your wife and children, have no worries!”

The convicted thief’s head moved inside the sack as if he were trying to catch the sound of Malden’s voice. Perhaps he might have said something more.

The executioner pulled his lever, and Janbart danced on the air. It was over quickly-the rope had been just the right length, so Janbart’s neck snapped almost immediately.

Soon enough the crowd began to disperse. Hood left on foot, followed by a retinue of watchmen. He made no attempt to speak to Malden.

Feeling it was his duty, Malden stayed long enough to pay some boys to cut Janbart down and take his body away for burial. When that was done, he and Slag were completely alone in the square.

“Well, lad,” Slag said softly, and not unsympathetically. “Now you’re fucked.”

Malden said nothing. He was anxious to get away from the scene. There were still things he could do. He would need to work quickly, giving reassurances and promises to those members of the guild of thieves who were already allying against him. He would need to consolidate those who would stand by him, and form his own alliances, inside the organization he supposedly governed. It was going to be a very long day.

Trailing at his heels, Slag muttered curses because Malden was walking too fast for someone with short legs to keep up. Malden did not slow down.

He did not know if he could do this, frankly. He felt reasonably secure for today, that no one would try to slide a dagger between his ribs when he wasn’t looking. But tomorrow He had no doubt that tomorrow, at dawn, another thief would hang. And the day after, yet another.