Thief's covenant

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

One year ago:

Renard Lambert leaned precariously back in his chair, ankles crossed atop the table, and sipped absently from a goblet of wine of a far better vintage than the bottle indicated. Somebody, somewhere in Davillon, was going to be very disappointed with the contents of their forty-mark bottle.

Or maybe they wouldn't be. Not everyone could have as refined a palate as he did. It's what made label-switching a profitable venture. Which reminded him, he needed to swing by the Mahaut vineyards before the end of the week, make sure that they…

So lost was Renard in his thoughts, senses ever so gently clouded by the wine he'd already consumed, that it took him a moment to recognize the faint but insistent tapping at his door, a moment more to realize the implications.

Who the hell knows where I live?

The thief shot to his feet, one hand darting to the rapier hanging on the coatrack by the door. Slowly, deliberately, he slid aside the brass cap blocking the peephole.

“Hsst! Lambert! I know you're in there! Let me in!”

Slack-jawed, Renard opened the door, stepping aside as the girl flitted past. Sweat plastered her hair to her cheeks and forehead, and she carried a large and lumpy sack over one shoulder.

He stared at her; she stared at the room. Thick carpeting, polished brass-and-silver fixtures, bright paintings of random scenes and portraits of random faces-all were arranged in a display of opulence that obscenely straddled the line between tasteful and tacky.

“It's absolutely you,” she said, turning to face her host.

“Widdershins, what the-?”

She frowned, lips curling into a pert little moue. “You said I should come to you if I had any problems or questions,” she reminded him.

“Well, yes. The guild can be a difficult home to settle into. Most newcomers have a guide or a patron for their first few-”

“Then why do you look so unhappy to see me?”

“I-you-Widdershins, how do you know where I live?”

“Oh, that.” Widdershins made a dismissive gesture with one hand, dropped her sack to the floor with a loud clatter, and slid into the chair Renard had so recently vacated. A brief sniff at the goblet, and then she swiftly drained off its contents before he could protest. “I followed you a few weeks ago.”

“I-you…” Renard had the vague sensation he was repeating himself. “That's not possible!”

“I'm here, aren't I?” She shrugged. “If it makes you feel any better, you're really careful. You almost lost me twice.”

His face turning peculiar shades of red, Renard hauled a second chair to the table and sat across from his guest. “Why did you follow me?”

Another shrug. “I figured if I did need to take you up on your offer of advice, I might not want to do it at the guild. In case, you know, it was about the guild, yes?”

All right, that at least makes sense. “So what's your problem, then?” he asked, calming down.

“Well…” Widdershins nudged the bag on the floor with her toe, just enough for a smattering of coins and the tip of a solid gold candelabrum to tumble out. “There's got to be thousands of marks' worth of goods here. Maybe tens of thousands. I just-I didn't know if maybe there were different procedures for reporting and delivering the guild's share of something this big. And I'm a little nervous about just walking into the guild with that much hard currency. I know we're all supposed to be able to trust each other, but…Renard, are you all right?”

No, he was pretty sure he wasn't, given that his eyes were doubtlessly about to pop from his skull like champagne corks. “Widdershins, where in the gods' names did you get this?”

“Oh, I hit the d'Arras family tower. You wouldn't believe how difficult it-”

“You what?” The foppish thief literally felt the blood drain from his face.

“Don't tell me it was off-limits!” Widdershins cried, a twinge of fear in her voice. “I checked the lists, I swear I did! There was nothing-”

“No.” Renard shook his head, thoughts tumbling drunkenly over one another-though he himself was now quite sober. “No, d'Arras Tower isn't on the forbidden list.”

“Then what…?”

Months, maybe even years of planning. He knew, because she'd bragged to him about it enough times. Oh, but she is not going to be happy when she hears about this….

“Widdershins, how much do you know about the guild's taskmaster, Lisette Suvagne?”

“Oh, is that who I saw there?”

Renard dropped his head into his hands and groaned.