Wisdom: The Steal

Keith followed Blackavar through the alley. As they neared the well-traveled streets, the distant sounds of conversation and horse-drawn carts reached their ears. The buildings narrowed the closer they came, then rounded a corner and stopped in the shadowed opening. He had never seen so much hustle and bustle. People hurried by, arms loaded with packages. Horses clogged by pulling carriages. Merchants were stationed up and down the road selling goods. Mesmerized by the new sights and sounds, Keith nearly stepped out when he was pulled back by the collar.

Loud whinnies made him look up see the underside of a hoof bearing down on top of him. 

“There ye are!” Keith was suddenly scooped into the thief’s arms as a carriage rattled passed.

“Ye’ve got to have yer wits about ye if ye want to get around Lexington!”

“My necklace!” Keith struggled as the thief carried him to safety of the sidewalk. “I have to go back!"

Blackavar gently let the boy down.

“Take it easy!” When he held up a hand, jewelry dangled from his fingers. Quick as a whip, he snatched it from the thief’s hand.

“You stole it from me!”

“Nay, lad.” Blackavar shook his head. “I would not steal from ye, not something as important as that.” He eyed the charm as Keith placed it around his neck. “A fine catch it would make, though. Better keep it under yer shirt. Don’t want it tempting others.”

Keith felt his shirt pocket where the pan flute lay untouched.

“But you won’t steal from me, will you?”

“Nah!” Blackavar waved the comment aside. “Us thieves are the most respectful gents in the area, despite what some folk may say.”

Satisfied, the two continued touring around town.  There was no lack for inns and taverns along the street. When they reached the town square, they were met by hordes of people to inspect a variety of goods on sale. There were many kinds of people, some more amusing than the goods themselves. There were some with big-rounded stomachs, some that were tall, and some that were short. There were people whose heads seemed too large for their bodies, redhead, blackheads, droopy-beards and sagging skin. Then there were some who came stumbling from a nearby tavern, drunk as a mule on mead and just as heavy when they fell face down. Both shared a hearty laugh.

Then Keith’s merriment faded. Huddled together at the edge of the town square was a group of raggedy looking men and women. They eyed everything from the corner of the sidewalk, nervously checking around them to see if they had been noticed. Every once in a while, one person would vanish as someone or something blocked Keith’s vision. The third time a cart pulled in front. When it left, the group had moved on.

“Peasants,” Blackavar said.

“Can guards get money for them too?”

“Not much, but yes.” The peasants were quickly forgotten when particular merchant stand caught his eye. A mischievous grin spread across his face. “But if ye become a thief, ye needn’t worry with being poor.” He casually began strolling toward a merchant’s stand.

Keith stood aside and watched. Expecting the thief to steal and then leave, Keith was taken by surprise when the thief calmly asked to see something. Although dealing with another customer at the moment, the merchant gladly offered his assistance. That was when he noticed Blackavar’s hand. Inch by inch, a bracelet was removed right under the merchant’s nose! Slipping the charm into his pocket, Blackavar then gestured at something else. There went another one. Finally convinced the merchant had nothing of interest, the thief gave his thanks and left.

“Pretty good catch, I’d say.” Blackavar showed his prize to Keith.

“That was amazing!” the boy admitted. “But why didn’t he see what you were doing? I mean, he was looking right at you!”

“Because they don’t expect ye to take something when they’re facing ye to do business. All they can see is how much money is coming their way. Other than that, they’re pretty blind.”

The two started toward another stand.

“But Blackavar, wouldn’t it have been easier to take something while he wasn’t looking?”

“Aye. I’ve done that before. But ye know what they say. Merchants have eyes at the back of their heads. They just seem to see when a person is taking something. That’s why ye’ve got to play them like it’s business so they won’t suspect as much.”

That mischievous grin returned, and he pointed at a stand near the sidewalk. “Now here’s a trick that takes skill. See that group of men? They’re all guards.”

“You’re not thinking about stealing in front of them, are you?” A look of concern crossed the boy’s face.

“That’s the beauty of being a thief. It only adds to the pleasure of taking something.” Whistling to himself, Blackavar nonchalantly strolled to the stand and waited patiently until the last customer had left.

“Good evening, sir,” Keith heard the thief announce from a distance. “I was just with a friend who happened to have the same exact ring…” The story went on, revealed by Blackavar as he craftily stole several of the man’s goods right in front of the guards. Yet Keith’s attention was not entirely on the group as it was on a lone guard not far off. At first, Keith thought he had his eye on someone else, but from the look on his face he must have seen Blackavar’s thievery.  At a gesture, the men began marching toward the stand.

The master thief was still deep in conversation when people began moving out of their way. This was all the warning he needed. After thanking the merchant, the thief calmly walked away from the stand as if nothing was out of the ordinary. He changed directions, taking him back to the center of town. Not bothering to make eye contact, he signaled with his fingers in the direction he was headed.

From the sidewalk, it had not been difficult to see where his friend was going, but once back on the street Keith was easily sucked into the swarms of people going in opposite directions all at once. Yet size was his advantage. He slipped through tight spaces and darted through traffic, catching a glimpse of Blackavar’s sable clothing. When the mass of people in the street became too thick, Keith backtracked to the side of the buildings and slipped down the alley, hoping it would take him to where the thief might be waiting.

 

*****       

 

Guards were closing fast. Yet Blackavar’s steps remained unhurried. It was now time to lose them in the shadows of the alley.

 

Too late, he noticed a band of freshly summoned troops approaching from the side, blocking his intended escape. As the two groups fanned out to trap him between the buildings, Blackavar considered his options. Fighting in the middle of town was the last thing he wanted, especially in broad daylight. However, nothing could keep the lineup of guards from going unnoticed. Soon spectators gathered around, the excitement of a fight eagerly holding their attention. With a sigh, the thief drew his daggers.

 

So they want a show? I’ll give ‘em one.

 

*****         

 

Keith hurried through the alley, following the sound of clanging steel. When he approached the street, a crowd of onlookers cheered wildly. He was careful not to reveal himself as he peered around the corner to where guards lay. For now, the center of attention went to Blackavar. Keith studied his movements as he parried a blow and turned to avoid another. He was not hurt, but he was tiring.

There are too many! The boy realized. He’ll never make it!

 

A strap snapped from Blackavar’s body from a close swing, sending the largest of his pouches flying towards Keith’s hiding place. So enthralled were the surrounding people that no one noticed its pink contents spill near the unguarded alley, nor the small hand that grasped it and pulled back into shadow.

 

Keith pondered over the stuff, wondering what made it so special that a wizard would carry around. He raised it to his nose to sniff, but quickly lowered it when his head felt suddenly groggy and his thoughts clouded.

Could this be powerful enough to slow the guards, even for a few moments? He peered back out to check on Blackavar.

Now Keith could hear his labored breaths. The circle of guards had tightened. There was no room to dodge and barely enough to block. One guard readied chains to bind the rest of his spirit while another cracked a whip to break it.

“Blackavar!” Keith jumped from the alley and raised his hand. Startled, the guards only stared at the child before them, and only laughed when he threw the pink sand at them. One them advanced to grab him when he suddenly slumped to his knees in a slumbering stupor. It causes sleep? There was no defending against it, and when all the guards lay resting at his feet, Keith motioned for his friend to join him.

Stupefied, Blackavar stared while the crowd cheered for the boy’s success.

Blackavar sheathed his daggers, tired but proud to have the extra help. He took a deep bow before the remaining spectators, then quickly fled the scene when he noticed one of the guards starting to twitch. Once they had gone a certain distance, the two paused to catch their breaths.

“Did you know the sand would do that?” Keith asked, grinning from ear to ear. “Bet they didn’t even know what hit them!”

Seating himself on an empty barrel, Blackavar rested while the boy continued rambling animatedly. He studied the broken strap, having grabbed the pouch while passing. Only half its contents remained now.

“Sorry about your bag,” Keith said, receiving a chuckle.

“Oh, I’m sure it can be fixed! ‘Twas put to good use, wasn’t it?” He stood and removed one of his smaller pouches. “And for that, I thank ye with this.”

“For me?” Keith allowed him to strap the pouch around his waist before peering inside.

“Nothing in it yet, but as our newest member, I’m sure ye’ll find just what ye need.”

“You’re making me a member? But I’m not even a thief.”

Blackavar knelt by his side.

“Being a thief doesn’t always mean stealth. It’s cunning. What ye did back there took more guts than any of our experienced members, even meself.” He laughed. “Let’s face it, if it weren’t for ye, I’d be stuck back at Castle Mire gnawing on metal bars until the slave action!”

“Really? Me?”

“Just…uh…. one thing. Since I am master of the guild,” Blackavar held a hand over his heart, “got me pride to carry, is all. So…try not to mention it to anyone.”