Chapter 20

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Theo and I have radically different ideas about burgling.

I've always felt that the challenges involved in planning a break-in and the intellectual rigor required to plan for all the possible scenarios you'll run into is just something you do if you wish to meet with some measure of success. To me, a successful burglary means getting in, stealing what you're after, then getting out without anybody even knowing you were there in the first place. It's about leaving your target in a daze, confused as to what could have possibly happened to the object they were attempting to protect.

In short, if the person you've robbed half-believes they must have misplaced whatever it was you've stolen, because they're utterly convinced there's no way anyone could have possibly made their way past their defenses without leaving some clue as to how they managed it, then you've done a good job of it. At least, that's how it is in my book.

Theo's approach is simply this - if at the end of the evening he manages to walk out of his target's home with the thing he wanted to burgle, the whole thing is considered a success. Even if it means knocking everyone unconscious, and leaving a trail of bound and gagged knights in his wake.

It's an approach I wouldn't exactly call 'subtle', but it does have its uses.

"Here's the sixth one," Theo grunted, gently depositing yet another unconscious knight dressed in Hartman's livery onto the grass beside the stable. "He's the one who was wandering around looking for his partner. Don't think he'll be waking up for an hour or so, but we'll want to truss him up like the others anyway."

I glanced at the collection of bound and unconscious knights that now lay in the shadowy patch of grass beside the wooden stable, feeling slightly uneasy.

"Something about this just doesn't seem right," I said, waving a gesture at them.

"Hmm?"

"You know . . . this."

"You think maybe we should stack them like cordwood or something?"

"It's just that . . . well, never mind. So that's everyone patrolling the back of the keep?"

"Yup. The door guards at the front are probably going to notice the sudden lack of perimeter patrolling going on, which means we're going to need that distraction of yours pretty soon."

"How long have we been here so far?" I asked.

Theo rubbed his chin and considered. "About twenty minutes or so. Add about five minutes getting over here from the shack where you left that . . . well, whatever the hell it was you left there." He wrinkled his nose at me for a moment. "What was that stuff, anyway? It smelled like rotten egg mixed with yak puke."

I shrugged. "Essences pulled from volcanic rock, mineral spirits, a few other things. I got the recipe from one of my journals - Lord Fenwick was something of an alchemist back in his day. Mix those ingredients together, and they slowly become a flammable, frothy mess that spills over the top of the flask you've mixed it in. Set a burning candle nearby, and you're set."

Theo scowled.

"I don't like fire," he muttered darkly.

Neither did I, actually. Fire was a tricky and unpleasant sort of thing, and not something I used as a distraction very often. At the best of times it was unpredictable - at worst, it was catastrophic.

Part of my responsibility as Lord was to protect the valuables and trade items belonging to those who were under my protection. Usually this meant preventing thefts and reimbursing people when things got stolen, but things like fires could happen as well. My guts always lurch whenever I catch word of a fire somewhere on or near my territory, and I invest a great deal of money into strategies to keep them from happening. Most other Lords do likewise.

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