The Thief King

1 | A Stupid Plan

Koltin Seaward swore his death would be legendary, or at least so twisted with lies and exaggerations that well-traversed bards sang its like in far-off kingdoms. Alas for most Lethilians, tonight was not the night he'd die. He knew it. There was something about being well-acquainted with death that gave him an edge when it came to danger. The type of danger that came with being a thief would scare most off, leaving only the strong and desperate behind.

Kole had learned the art to thieving, flirting with fate and attempting the impossible. Impossible meant untried, and if someone hadn't tried it, that meant it was unnecessarily feared. Trying to succeed where others had not was one of the reasons Kole had remained a thief. He thrived on the unknown, sought out fear, and conquered it without fail. Doubt, the stone in any good horse's hoof, could be the end to a short thieving career. He'd learnt that the hard way.

This thought passed through his mind as the man in his grasp grappled to relieve the pressure Kole applied to his airwaves. Kole kept his hold firm, but not to kill the man-unfortunately. The fool had almost managed to shout a warning to his men below before Kole got a proper grip on him. Like a passing breeze, the man's fight faded, and Kole released his fingers slowly, aiding the body to the roof's tiles in a silent heap.

Kole turned to Chase who stood a few paces away, his own victim at his feet sporting a head injury. "Don't say it."

"I don't need to," Chase grumbled. "You already know it."

"It's a good plan, Chase."

"So you keep telling me." Chase crawled to the roof's edge and peered down. "And yet, I have this nagging feeling in my stomach we're poking at a hornet's nest ill-equipped for the consequences."

"You sure it wasn't something you ate?" Kole sighed at the unamused glare he received. "Look mate, I get it. We've never tried anything like this before and th-"

"No one has tried this, Kole, and for good reason. The man is a paranoid, fastidious peacock with too many feathers and far too much..."

"Fat?" Kole suggested.

Chase agreed with a grunt.

Kole admitted he teetered towards reckless at times. He liked living unpredictably. "A predictable thief is a dead thief; this is the very definition of unpredictable. He's not going to catch us because he doesn't think we know about his books."

"He's going to find out someone gabbed. It's inevitable."

"Look, if you don't want to help, you know where I'll end up."

"In the hatch?"

"More than likely," Kole scratched at the back of his neck, earning a sigh he recognized as surrender.

"In that case, to save myself the hassle of breaking you out, I'm going to have to stay and watch your back." Chase exhaled, elbows rested on his knees. "How long does it take to anger a bar wench?"

Kole snorted. "That sounds like the start of a good joke."

"You laugh, but I'm freezing my balls off. All it takes is for Rusty to say something offensive. How long could that take?"

"If it were me, I'd be on my third word before I got a flat one."

"If it were you, you would be on your third step in and be thrown out."

Shouts echoed below, both of them sat up and crawled to the edge. As planned, two men were being thrown out of the brothel. Rusty's tall frame and Stone's much wider, muscular one swayed away from the building. Kole and Chase watched as they rounded the corner, their gait straightening. Both looked up before slipping into a nearby alley.