"Well, damn."
What else can you say when you're looking down the barrel of a gun? It seemed strange, that the last vision I would have of this life was of that cold metal weapon. Strange, but I suppose there is no fitting vision or mode of dying for anyone. Why do I always get so reflective when I'm about to die?
I smiled to myself about my thoughts and my predicament; a habit I had been told was unsettling. I flicked my eyes from the weapon to the man holding it. He was scowling furiously, his red face accentuated by the sheen of sweat covering him and soaking the collar of his night clothes. It was a fair bet to say that he was less than pleased, one might even say angry. I suppose that's the normal reaction for one who has just realized a good portion of his wealth has disappeared from underneath his nose. I would feel bad, except the gun pointed between my eyes makes it hard to sympathize.
"You filthy bitch," he sputtered, "You think you can just come in here?! You think you can just walk right in?! After all that you've done, after all you've done to me? You think you can just take what you please, and leave?"
"Which question should I answer first?" Say what you will, but I'm pretty sure that wasn't the answer he was looking for. Why do I always get so stupid when I'm faced with my death?
"Gods damn you! You will regret the night you ever stole from me! You will regret it!" His whole body shook with the force of this last statement, causing his many chins to wobble, slightly distracting me from the sweat dripping off his nose. This was well enough, as the distraction of his ugly face kept my eyes from sliding down the rest of him. I was quite sure that he wasn't wearing any pants, which was a sight that even the ladies of the Quayside Coquettes were reluctant to witness, and they were no doubt paid well for their troubles.
"Sir, for both my sake and your heart's, lets not get too worked up about all of this. Admittedly, there has been some misunderstandings and some mishaps. For instance, you have found me in the process of robbing you. A grievous error on my part but one that I hope that I can rectify. Secondly, you seem to be under the impression that you know how to operate that firearm. I doubt you would be able to pull the trigger without shooting your own foot. Finally, you seem to have severely misunderstood my intentions. I have no intention of dying, I have every intention of keeping this little treasure of yours, and I have every reason to believe I will escape unharmed." Gods forgive the bullshit that comes out my mouth.
He seemed genuinely frightened at my bold declaration. People will believe anything if you say it with enough confidence. However, that cold metal pressed in his hands reassured him.
"You will not leave here alive."
"You're sure taking an awfully long time. You'd think my imminent death would be a bit more imminent. "
There was a flash of movement behind the man. I suddenly caught sight of a man's face pressed against the window. His hands shaded his eyes and his breath left little clouds on the glass pane. The face rolled his eyes at me. Balthier.
I moved my right hand subtly in a hand gesture we had created. This particular gesture is roughly translated as, "I'm in deep shit. Help."
I saw a glimpse of white, which meant Balthier had donned his usual smirk and then he was gone. I was left with the gun pointed at my skull. Why was I not dead yet?
"We seem to be running in circles, Judge, so how about I simply leave? That would solve our present predicament rather nicely I think."
The Judge let out a sputter, that might have been a laugh of disbelief or simply a cough. However, I'm pretty sure the sound he made when Balthier slammed into him was a squeal. They were both on the floor before I had realized the Judge was no longer standing. The life of a thief is cut tragically short when the thief can't act on surprises and the lesson had not been lost on me. I snapped out of my astonishment and jumped to help Balthier. There was a small scuffle and many grunts from Balthier as he labored to move the man's bulk off of him. My dagger, which had been cast aside earlier into a far corner of the room, I now snatched and placed under the Judge's fleshy neck.
"Ah, Judge, finally, we are getting somewhere."
His eyes bulged in his face but he kept silent. He was at his most tolerable this way.
"Nice of you to drop in, you incredibly LATE, worthless bastard," I hissed at Balthier. "I expect the entire damned Imperial army to be outside with how long you waited."
"I never miss my cue," he panted as held the Judge down, "What's wrong with catching a bit of the show beforehand?"
"What's wrong is when you missing your cue is so desperately tied to my skull gaining a nice metal bullet."
He waved his hand dismissively and I let him go. We heaved the judge together onto his bed. It seems as if the dagger against his neck triggered some sort of paralyzing reaction; he didn't move a muscle, out of fear or perhaps in a final resistance to our efforts. Once we had wrestled the Judge onto his velvet covers, I kept my dagger close as Balthier ran about the room, gathering the treasure that I had not had time to collect. There was a sound outside, of footsteps and metal and I caught a glimpse of a sword through the window.
"We seem to have attracted some onlookers. Best be off before they demand autographs," Balthier mused. He began grabbing objects more frantically, throwing them into a large sack he was carrying. I kept my vigil over the Judge, as he stared at me, motionless. It would have been discomfiting, but it's hard to look menacing when your pants are off and there's a dagger at your throat.
"All right. I have what we need. Let's leave before this gets any more fun," Balthier said and he hurried over to me.
"Well, what shall we do with him? He would make a nice roast, but there is simply no room in our home to keep all the leftovers."
The Judge sneered.
"Luck is in your favor, Judge Sighe. We shall not roast you, as I'm afraid I wouldn't like the taste, or for that matter kill you. Be a good little Judge and remain where you are as we leave. I regret that we have to part so quickly. Your company has been stimulating," I said as I quickly shifted around the bed to follow Balthier as he crouched in the windowsill. He shot me look that meant we had to go.
"Farewell," I said and brought the dagger away from his neck. Just as I suspected, he had no intention of remaining still any longer and tried to lunge at me. He tried, but was stopped as my fist swung forcefully into his gut. He doubled over in pain, and I was out the window after Balthier. We landed in some shrubs but quickly changed our position. The Judge was already yelling out his window and the shouts of other men were near.
"Tell me again how this brilliant plan of yours goes. I nearly get myself killed, we make away with half the loot we set out to get, and then we jump into the damned middle of the Judge's armed guards."
Balthier smirked at me as we ducked behind a stone statue.
"Oh Meera, the plan has worked splendidly," he said. "You have so acutely recognized the number of guards surrounding us. Now think hard my dear. Where were all those guards before? Certainly not guarding the Judge's garden, lovely as it is. They were guarding that." He pointed at a small square building near the Judge's mansion.
"What in the hell is that?" I hissed.
"That is the gardener's shed. Think of all of the tools and pots we could get our hands on," he smiled at me and I pinched his side.
"Don't worry. They are very fine pots, I assure you. But all that aside, that is where most of the Judge's money is kept and that is oddly the most strongly guarded area of the Judge's house. Now, the garden holds that position. I believe that the Judge holds some strange idea that if he is separate from his enormous wealth, his life will be in less jeopardy."
"A pity, both were threatened tonight," I whispered.
"Yes, and now one will be taken all together," Balthier said as he crouched low. He scurried over to the building as I followed close behind.
His plans do work out pretty well, for the ass that he is.