The rickety old wagon rattled forcefully as it trundled down the worn road. The two horses that pulled it, aged and filthy mares long past their prime, puffed and snorted as the wheels caught again and again on uneven cobblestones in the road. The wagon itself, little more than a box on wheels, with barred windows and a locked door on the back, bore the Redanian eagle on its side.
Inside sat four silent, sombre figures, their wrists shackled, their ankles bound. All four, three boys and a girl, bowed their heads, a fearful, anxious air hovering over them. The eldest of the boys was a scrawny lad just on the verge of his teens, his body just hitting the age where it began to sprout and change in ways that left his frame awkward and clumsy. A tangle of dark blonde hair, cut short with a knife in quick, imprecise strokes, adorned his crown, while empty eyes the colour of an overcast sky stared at the wooden boards that made the floor of the wagon.
The boy, Gedymin, glanced up at him companions, looking to each one in turn. The girl, Kera, was a little older than him. A mop of dirty blonde hair tumbled across her shoulders, while deep, black eyes stared at the shackles around her wrists with a quiet, simmering anger. Her teen years had already begun to manifest, certain parts of her body changing in ways that tightened the fit of her clothing and would draw the gaze of many a lad as she walked down the street of any town. Gedymin felt his heart pulse a little as he looked to her. The sight of the young woman always sent a rush of unfamiliar emotions racing through his veins, a fierce protectiveness, a deep longing, and a fiery desire. He turned his gaze to the other two occupants of the wagon.
Son and Ebbe, often mistaken for brothers, were by far the most closely attached of the group. Growing up homeless, the pair had known no family until they met one another, surviving as best as they could on the streets of Oxenfurt. The two small boys, with ten years to each of them, sported short, grimy black hair, and faces so similar that it gave the impression they could have been twins. Gedymin knew better.
The wagon lurched, coming to a sudden halt. The sounds of conversation could be heard through the barred window, too high in the wall for any of the children to look out of. To Gedymin's ear, it sounded as if a small mob waited outside, many voices conversing in low whispers and mutters that could be heard over the bustle of the city.
There was a loud scraping noise as a heavy figure stood up at the front of the wagon, before jumping down. Footsteps clattered across the cobbles, echoed by the jangle of loose chainmail, working their way round towards the door set in the back wall of the wagon. Keys clinked, then scraped their way into the lock of the door, before it was wrenched open. The guardsman who had thrown the youths into the wagon waited beyond, an impatient scowl on his face.
"C'mon. Out!" He grunted irritably, sparing not even a single breath for the wagon's occupants.
Slowly, fearfully, the quartet stood and shuffled their way out, the chains that bound them clinking heavily.
Outside, the daylight, even on this grim, overcast day, was painful to Gedymin's eyes. At least the storm had subsided, though the damp still hung in the air, sending a chill through the young lad's body. After a few seconds, his vision finally adjusted from the gloom of the wagon to the light outside, and he could take in his surroundings.
The wagon had come to a halt in the market square of Oxenfurt, the normally busy trading hub much more muted today. It seemed as though many of the stalls than normally invaded the square had been removed, creating a large, open area around the well at its centre where a fair-sized crowd had gathered. At the heart of the mob, next to the well, loomed a large timber frame. Beside it, waiting with a grim expression and folded arms, was the captain of the city guard. With a sinking feeling, Gedymin recognised the hastily erected construction. A gallows, with four nooses tied and ready for four young, guilty necks.
~o~0~o~
TWO DAYS EARLIER
Night weighed heavily over the city, a dark storm looming on the horizon. Gedymin shivered in his ragged cloak, little more than a scrap of canvas scavenged from a rotting skiff that had grounded itself under one of the city's bridges. He pulled the grimy fabric closer around himself, trying to banish some of the wind that whipped around him.
Next to him, Kera seemed similarly cold, although he knew that offering her his cloak would earn him a disdainful snort. Instead, the pair turned their attention to the wall before them, a tall affair surrounding one of the larger mansions of the city. Located in one of the higher regions of the city, the house overlooked most of the poorer districts from a place of privilege, above the much and stink of the less fortunate. Or so the owner thought.
"You're sure about this?" Gedymin asked.
"Aye." Kera whispered back. "Bran the stable boy told me that 'Arry the farrier 'eard Lyssa and Hulda, two o' Lady Gildemann's maids, sayin' that Eckleberg an' his family was outta town fer the next three days. Somethin' 'bout a sickly aunt of his wife, livin' out in Novigrad. They took their servants with 'em. The place is empty. Ripe for the harvest."
The girl grinned wolfishly in the darkness, her teeth shining under red lips. Gedymin, however, remained focused, anxious.
"This is a big score, but also a big risk." He said. "Last thief Eckleberg caught, he took his hands. 'Tis said that he has the captain of the guard in his pocket."
"They all do, one way or another." Kera shrugged. "Some with a fistful of gold, others with a few barrels of wine, and a couple others with girls from Madame Capricia's place."
The young girl shuddered. Over the years, especially now as she came of age, she'd continually run the risk of ending up in Capricia's establishment, one of the more well-known brothels in the region. Thankfully, she was good enough at surviving in the streets, and tough enough to fight for herself when needed, that she hadn't fallen victim to Capricia, or any of the other flesh-mongers who profited off the impoverished and desperate of Oxenfurt. Instead, she had risen to power in one of the town's larger collections of street-rats and beggar-boys, excelling in a world not normally suited to a girl. Now, she served as Gedymin's right hand, leading the gang as they picked at the underbelly of the city to survive.
The pair waited tensely in the bush that served as their hiding place, a decorative ornamentation not normally found in other areas of the city, but common up here, in amongst what the common folk referred to as 'The Gods' Terrace', the hilltop between the bridges of the Western Gate and the Academy. Presumably the owners of the houses that lined this street thought to give themselves further airs of luxury and prominence by decorating the roadside with as much greenery as they could fit there. And yet, Gedymin couldn't help but notice, underneath it all lurked the same cobblestones and roof-tiles and timber frames as the lowest dockhouse in the harbour.
A slight movement caught the young lad's eye. Up in the top of the wall, a small shape moved, scuttling along as carefully as he could. Ebbe. The small lad lifted an arm, a flash of light gleaming from the mirror held in his hand, reflecting what faint light came from the lanterns that dotted the street.
"That's the signal." Kera whispered, rising to her feet.
Gedymin's hand shot out, catching her by the wrist and pulling her back. The girl let out the beginning of a startled yelp, which he quickly silenced with a hand over her mouth, before pointing a thumb down the roadway. A torch swayed in the gloom as two shadowy shapes walked towards where the two young teens lurked. After a moment's silence, the clank of metal plates could be heard, heavy armour typical of the city guard. The two guardsmen conversed in low tones, talking about nothing at all, grumbling at having the night watch.
Gedymin and Kera froze in their hiding place, waiting for the two guards to pass by. The pair passed close enough to them to almost be in arm's reach, causing Gedymin's blood to run cold, but thankfully the guards were inattentive enough to simply pass them by, totally unaware of their presence. A few moments later, the street was silent again.
Gedymin waited a few seconds longer, just to be sure, then nodded to Kera. Together, the pair stood and hurried across the street, towards a small doorway set in the wall, a servants' entrance to the Eckleberg estate. They knocked twice, then once, then four times, and received a single knock in reply before, with a scrape of wood on stone, the door slid open, revealing the tense features of Son beyond. Without a word, Gedymin and his friends slipped inside, then closed the door behind themselves, the street outside returning to silence.