' ' The Thief ' '
AN: Thanks for reviewing We're in like Sin! )
Try and guess who the thief is. I dare you.
Thebes, Egypt
1958 B.C.
The Bazaar
Stained-glass lanterns hung across lines from buildings, lighting their paths
Stained-glass lanterns hung across lines from buildings, lighting their paths. There was the noisy banter of haggling customers, and merchants calling their goods. Rare spices brought from the far lands of India perfumed the night air.
Bright blue eyes twinkled with pleasure.
Anuket loved coming to the markets, they were her second home. It was where generations of her family had thrived, after all. A merchant's paradise.
She wasn't meant to be out so late, but tonight was special. Her father, known for the rich quality of his craft as a jeweler, had repaired and was now delivering an antique, as he had called it, to a renowned family of nobles.
"Father, can I please see it now? We've been traveling for hours!" the young girl pleaded.
"No, Anuket," her father chided sternly. "This is irreplaceable. You'll lose it in a busy place like this."
"I won't! Just a peek!"
He groaned. She'd been traveling for hours without complaint, and a small peek couldn't hurt anyone, he supposed,
Reaching into his coat, he drew out a finely padded package, delicately pulling at the string.
She reached for it as though reaching for a small bird. Anuket turned the gold bracelet in her hands, awestruck.
It was simple, yet irresistibly elegant. A thin bangle with gemmed flowers wrought in pure Egyptian gold. Worth at least a prince's ransom. It was a special order, father had said. It was unfortunate her father would have to sell it along with the rest of the caravan's wares. Though he hadn't told her who the lucky customer was, clearly, he wouldn't offer such a piece in the common market.
She raised it up to the night sky, the glow of the market lanterns skipping across the gems--
She stared at her empty hands horrified.
It had all happened in less then a heartbeat. One second she was cradling it, admiring the imported Oriental jewels, the next--
"THIEF! Gaurds!!" her father screamed. We've been robbed! GAURDS!! OUR CARAVAN!!"
He wove through the market crowds with sleek, faultless agility. He ducked, dove, darted past people and was long gone before they noticed even the ghost of his presence.
"THIEF! Guards!! We've been robbed! GAURDS!! OUR CARAVAN!!" his victim shrieked.
All hell broke loose-- frantic shouts, blades unsheathed, absolute terror fell in his wake as he swept the marketplace. He spared them a glance over his shoulder. Heh, two beer-bellied, middle aged men? No competition. He smirked. And they call themselves guards….
He knew the city like the back of his hand. Its cracks, its crevices, its alleyways were just as much home to him as the slums he had struggled to survive in.
He turned a corner, breaking into the streets of "upper" Alexandria. He'd stick out like a sore thumb here, and the two goons were closing in. Panting, he dove behind some crates.
With eyes keener than a falcon's, he scanned his surroundings, mind ticking like a watch. The longer he stayed, the more attention he'd attract, and the two guards had grown to a small police force. It was foolish to try to outrun them; they were trained, well-fed, and rested. He couldn't remember the last time he'd snatched a meal, or snuck in a few winks of sleep…
A construction site. Dead ahead. Another memorial tribute for one deceased king or another-- he really could care less.
His face lit up. Just his luck, the workers were preparing to raise a scaffold to deliver materials. He crept along the wall, keeping to the shadows. The young thief lunged forward, throwing himself in a pile of wooden planks. He crouched at the bottom of the scaffold, making himself as small as possible. Rubbing his hands across the dusty scaffold floor, he ran his hands through his shock of white hair, leaving it a sooty brown. It was his trademark, and if visible, would be a dead giveaway.
Suddenly, his stomach lurched, and he felt the ground push up into him. The platform swung forward and they were off, slowly lumbering skyward, the thief concealed in the load of wooden boards.
Shouts from below told him his pursuers had caught up. Chancing a glance, he peered over the edge of the pile. The guards were arguing with the construction workers, and none too gently.
"I demand you lower that scaffold!" he who seemed to lead the patrol barked, thrusting a finger at the rising platform.
"That's impossible!" the worker retorted. "We have strict orders to have the statue erected in two days! You'll put us behind our schedule!"
"If you like orders so much, then as the Chief of Police I ORDER you to halt all construction until we search the premises!"
The young thief attention was peaked. He had the capital's Chief of Police on his tail too? He weighed his options. The fact that the Chief of Police was now involved meant that he had gotten hold of quite a prize. Ten chances out of ten, the captain would get the scaffold lowered; his orders were law, and he had no issue using force if necessary. If he stayed, he'd be inevitably caught. If he jumped three stories down, he'd die, and be beaten to death if he wasn't.
The scaffold jerked to a stop.
His heart pounded in his chest so loudly he swore they could hear it. He was trapped. There was no way out.
With a creak, the scaffold began its slow trek back to the ground...
Oo
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