Note:
Thanks for the reviews! Sorry this next section is a little shorter, but I've got some great ideas for the next chapter. Love y'all for reading this!
- - - -
The Payment:
A door, made out of mahogany wood with richly carved inlays, lay before the Theif Lord. A small window, purposely made foggy so as to hide what happened inside the room was placed at the top of the door, and a bright brass knocked hung below it. No one, looking at the lovely door to a small apartment, that was placed in the expensive corner of the city's main square, would guess at who would live inside. Maybe they would suppose that the inhabitant was a rich and prosperous merchant who didn't want to walk far to work. Maybe the owner was a widowed noble lady who lived there so as to not feel lonely. Neither of those were true, in fact, the pristine little apartment belonged to the city's most heard of menace, the thief girl, Shadowcat.
Standing out side the door was a man. He was the girl's employer, the Theif Lord himself. Once his head had held the largest price of all, not anymore. Now the most wanted in the country was a teenage girl who spent her days lounging in her rooms and her nights attending dances that she wasn't invited to. Now the menace was not a part mad adult male, but a totally sane small girl of sixteen. Who would you be more afraid of?
Now the man took the brass knocker on his hand and prepared to rap it against the door. Slowly he put it down. The Theif Lord took a deep breath to ready himself for what was to be another interesting meeting between him and the Shadowcat. He was here to take his share of the pearls she had stolen yesterday, and these appointments were normally punctuated with periods of cold silence and that feeling of tension in the air. With a sigh, the Theif Lord once more picked up the door knocker and pounded it softly into it's brass plate.
The room was small, but well furnished and brightly lit. There was a small fire in the stone fireplace, with an ornate grate in front of it. A door in the back led to a tiny bathroom. There was a loft built into the cealing of the room that served as a bedroom. The downstairs area was furnished with sofas and armchairs. Kitty sat lounging in a particularly large and overstuffed blue chair, one leg cocked over the arm, with her back to the fireplace. She was dressed for comfort in her infamous outfit of full breaches, cut off right below the knee, and thin strapped tight fitting shirt. In her hand was a large pearl that she was playing with while waiting for the Theif Lord to arrive.
There was a soft knock on the door followed by three more in rapid succession. Kitty groaned to herself, put the pearl down, and opened the door for the thief lord. Once he had entered, she closed the door behind him and once more plopped down in her chair and picked up the pearl. The Theif Lord made himself comfortable, picking to stretch his long body out on a sofa across the room for the girl. Kitty in her turn didn't bother to look up at her employer, but continued to think, staring blankly at the pearl she was turning in her hands.
"Is that all?" His voice was a bit sceptical as he stared at the immense pearl in her hands.
"No, of course not." Kitty was back to the present, and she looked at the Theif Lord with shock, "The rest is up stairs."
The girl walked to the back of the room and climbed the ladder swiftly. Then she took the bag out from under her bed and carefully descended the steps until she was once more on the ground floor. Collapsing into her chair, she took the pearl she had been holding and put it in the bag along with the other pearls, and the assorted jewels that she had nicked earlier that day.
"It's all here, but I'm keeping a string of pearls." Kitty said this forcefully, reaching up and touching the necklace she had worn yesterday to the ball.
The Theif Lord made a show of considering what she had said before nodding. That one necklace wasn't nearly as valuable as the rest of the pearls she had put in the bag. Besides, she could go freelance anytime and then he'd have nothing. What was one string of pearls next to that? He got up and took the bag in his arms. Slowly he wrapped it in a box and tied a bow on top. If anyone asked, this was to be his neice's birthday gift. Then he walked towards the door and waited for Kitty to come open it. She glanced up and spoke, an irritated look on her face.
"You can see yourself out."
She looked away, and was once more lost in thought. The Theif Lord opened the door, after glaring at his employee's face for a moment. How dare she do that to him? That arrogant little brat. Then he took a step out into the bright sunshine of the day.
He smiled, and whistled a tune, all worries gone now that he was in daylight. These meetings with Kitty were not all that enjoyable, but what he took with him as he left always was. Resisting the urge to skip down the street, the Theif Lord headed back to his house.
The Theif Lord must have been in his mid thirties, but he had stayed in shape from all the exercise he got running the city's flourishing lowlife. He was tall, with light brown hair and dark brown eyes. Today he wore simple breaches of black with a white shirt. His cloak was a grey, and his belt was red. Although very few people knew him as anything other than the Theif Lord, his real name was Nevan, and he was once a simple man, a baker, who's wife made the best pastries he had ever had. But things, change, don't they.
- - - -
The Thief Lord:
Nevan had lived in a small mountain town in Sotat for his whole life. His parents had lived there, and that was where he was born. Faci, his childhood sweetheart became his wife there, and they had a beautiful daughter. Nevan had always had ambitions of being a baker, and so with his wife's help he opened the sole bakery in the village. Life fell into a simple pattern.
Everyday Nevan would get up and open the shop. The first few hours he would spend alone, baking bread and helping patrons. Before noon, but after dawn, his wife would join them with their daughter. Faci would bake pastries and socialize with the customers while their daughter nibbled on a cookie or played with a rolling pin. It was very peaceful here.
Town gossip traveled like wildfire. A rumor, once told, would spread through the village in a matter of hours, and it would grow and gain momentum until it was as true as fact. This is what happened to the peaceful couple of bakers, and their daughter. Some snitch let loose a spiteful rumor that Nevan was no longer true to his wife Faci, and soon everyone believed this.
In small towns, religions are very important and there is always at least one religions zealot. In this case one was enough. In the night someone lit fire to their bakery, as well as to the upstairs that the trio slept in. When the fire hit the huge zats of flour that Nevan kept in the back, the building exploded. Nevan, having been awake at the time, had only a moment to jump from the building. When it collapsed, he saw the zealot, and heard him muttering to himself, "the devil is in his rightful place now." Nevan murdered him on the spot, and then took what he owned. Moving on, he created for himself a new life, a life of crime.
Nevan took upon himself the title, Theif Lord, and began to create an underground empire of gangs and single theives. Within years he was the most wanted man alive, and the price on his head was immense, about as much as he spent a day. Unfortunely, he was growing old for a theif, early thirties, although prime for most professions is nearly over the top for theives. Nevan began to look for another theif who could eventually take his place. He searched all of his gangs for the proper candidate, and finally ran across one who held promise.
It was in one of his gangs in Hajra, called the Lightnings. The girl was a new member, not even trained as a pickpocket yet, but she had the right attitude, and plenty of aptitude. Nevan trained her personally, and gave her her theif's name, Shadowcat. Then he set her loose on the world, and under his direction, the Thief Lord became a forgotten name, mearly the organizer of a much bigger fiasco: a teenage girl with a gift for taking what wasn't hers.
Nevan had always had a soft spot for children, especially little girls that reminded him of his daughter. Although his heart had been hardened by his new life, when he met Kitty, it softened a little. She was so like his baby daughter. Her smile, her dimples, her red hair and green eyes, they reminded him of his old life. Maybe that was why he tollerated so much from her. Nevan always claimed that it was mearly what she had earned, but he knew it wasn't true. Fact is, the Theif Lord adored the little trickster, and although he would never admit it, she almost took the place of his daughter.
- - - -
Disclaimer:
All credit given to Tamora Pierce for the original idea. Kitty, and Nevan are my own, although the theif lord is not. It is not mine.
Thanks for the reviews! Sorry this next section is a little shorter, but I've got some great ideas for the next chapter. Love y'all for reading this!
- - - -
The Payment:
A door, made out of mahogany wood with richly carved inlays, lay before the Theif Lord. A small window, purposely made foggy so as to hide what happened inside the room was placed at the top of the door, and a bright brass knocked hung below it. No one, looking at the lovely door to a small apartment, that was placed in the expensive corner of the city's main square, would guess at who would live inside. Maybe they would suppose that the inhabitant was a rich and prosperous merchant who didn't want to walk far to work. Maybe the owner was a widowed noble lady who lived there so as to not feel lonely. Neither of those were true, in fact, the pristine little apartment belonged to the city's most heard of menace, the thief girl, Shadowcat.
Standing out side the door was a man. He was the girl's employer, the Theif Lord himself. Once his head had held the largest price of all, not anymore. Now the most wanted in the country was a teenage girl who spent her days lounging in her rooms and her nights attending dances that she wasn't invited to. Now the menace was not a part mad adult male, but a totally sane small girl of sixteen. Who would you be more afraid of?
Now the man took the brass knocker on his hand and prepared to rap it against the door. Slowly he put it down. The Theif Lord took a deep breath to ready himself for what was to be another interesting meeting between him and the Shadowcat. He was here to take his share of the pearls she had stolen yesterday, and these appointments were normally punctuated with periods of cold silence and that feeling of tension in the air. With a sigh, the Theif Lord once more picked up the door knocker and pounded it softly into it's brass plate.
The room was small, but well furnished and brightly lit. There was a small fire in the stone fireplace, with an ornate grate in front of it. A door in the back led to a tiny bathroom. There was a loft built into the cealing of the room that served as a bedroom. The downstairs area was furnished with sofas and armchairs. Kitty sat lounging in a particularly large and overstuffed blue chair, one leg cocked over the arm, with her back to the fireplace. She was dressed for comfort in her infamous outfit of full breaches, cut off right below the knee, and thin strapped tight fitting shirt. In her hand was a large pearl that she was playing with while waiting for the Theif Lord to arrive.
There was a soft knock on the door followed by three more in rapid succession. Kitty groaned to herself, put the pearl down, and opened the door for the thief lord. Once he had entered, she closed the door behind him and once more plopped down in her chair and picked up the pearl. The Theif Lord made himself comfortable, picking to stretch his long body out on a sofa across the room for the girl. Kitty in her turn didn't bother to look up at her employer, but continued to think, staring blankly at the pearl she was turning in her hands.
"Is that all?" His voice was a bit sceptical as he stared at the immense pearl in her hands.
"No, of course not." Kitty was back to the present, and she looked at the Theif Lord with shock, "The rest is up stairs."
The girl walked to the back of the room and climbed the ladder swiftly. Then she took the bag out from under her bed and carefully descended the steps until she was once more on the ground floor. Collapsing into her chair, she took the pearl she had been holding and put it in the bag along with the other pearls, and the assorted jewels that she had nicked earlier that day.
"It's all here, but I'm keeping a string of pearls." Kitty said this forcefully, reaching up and touching the necklace she had worn yesterday to the ball.
The Theif Lord made a show of considering what she had said before nodding. That one necklace wasn't nearly as valuable as the rest of the pearls she had put in the bag. Besides, she could go freelance anytime and then he'd have nothing. What was one string of pearls next to that? He got up and took the bag in his arms. Slowly he wrapped it in a box and tied a bow on top. If anyone asked, this was to be his neice's birthday gift. Then he walked towards the door and waited for Kitty to come open it. She glanced up and spoke, an irritated look on her face.
"You can see yourself out."
She looked away, and was once more lost in thought. The Theif Lord opened the door, after glaring at his employee's face for a moment. How dare she do that to him? That arrogant little brat. Then he took a step out into the bright sunshine of the day.
He smiled, and whistled a tune, all worries gone now that he was in daylight. These meetings with Kitty were not all that enjoyable, but what he took with him as he left always was. Resisting the urge to skip down the street, the Theif Lord headed back to his house.
The Theif Lord must have been in his mid thirties, but he had stayed in shape from all the exercise he got running the city's flourishing lowlife. He was tall, with light brown hair and dark brown eyes. Today he wore simple breaches of black with a white shirt. His cloak was a grey, and his belt was red. Although very few people knew him as anything other than the Theif Lord, his real name was Nevan, and he was once a simple man, a baker, who's wife made the best pastries he had ever had. But things, change, don't they.
- - - -
The Thief Lord:
Nevan had lived in a small mountain town in Sotat for his whole life. His parents had lived there, and that was where he was born. Faci, his childhood sweetheart became his wife there, and they had a beautiful daughter. Nevan had always had ambitions of being a baker, and so with his wife's help he opened the sole bakery in the village. Life fell into a simple pattern.
Everyday Nevan would get up and open the shop. The first few hours he would spend alone, baking bread and helping patrons. Before noon, but after dawn, his wife would join them with their daughter. Faci would bake pastries and socialize with the customers while their daughter nibbled on a cookie or played with a rolling pin. It was very peaceful here.
Town gossip traveled like wildfire. A rumor, once told, would spread through the village in a matter of hours, and it would grow and gain momentum until it was as true as fact. This is what happened to the peaceful couple of bakers, and their daughter. Some snitch let loose a spiteful rumor that Nevan was no longer true to his wife Faci, and soon everyone believed this.
In small towns, religions are very important and there is always at least one religions zealot. In this case one was enough. In the night someone lit fire to their bakery, as well as to the upstairs that the trio slept in. When the fire hit the huge zats of flour that Nevan kept in the back, the building exploded. Nevan, having been awake at the time, had only a moment to jump from the building. When it collapsed, he saw the zealot, and heard him muttering to himself, "the devil is in his rightful place now." Nevan murdered him on the spot, and then took what he owned. Moving on, he created for himself a new life, a life of crime.
Nevan took upon himself the title, Theif Lord, and began to create an underground empire of gangs and single theives. Within years he was the most wanted man alive, and the price on his head was immense, about as much as he spent a day. Unfortunely, he was growing old for a theif, early thirties, although prime for most professions is nearly over the top for theives. Nevan began to look for another theif who could eventually take his place. He searched all of his gangs for the proper candidate, and finally ran across one who held promise.
It was in one of his gangs in Hajra, called the Lightnings. The girl was a new member, not even trained as a pickpocket yet, but she had the right attitude, and plenty of aptitude. Nevan trained her personally, and gave her her theif's name, Shadowcat. Then he set her loose on the world, and under his direction, the Thief Lord became a forgotten name, mearly the organizer of a much bigger fiasco: a teenage girl with a gift for taking what wasn't hers.
Nevan had always had a soft spot for children, especially little girls that reminded him of his daughter. Although his heart had been hardened by his new life, when he met Kitty, it softened a little. She was so like his baby daughter. Her smile, her dimples, her red hair and green eyes, they reminded him of his old life. Maybe that was why he tollerated so much from her. Nevan always claimed that it was mearly what she had earned, but he knew it wasn't true. Fact is, the Theif Lord adored the little trickster, and although he would never admit it, she almost took the place of his daughter.
- - - -
Disclaimer:
All credit given to Tamora Pierce for the original idea. Kitty, and Nevan are my own, although the theif lord is not. It is not mine.