The Master Thief's Demise

Dawn crept up the horizon and bathed the city in a soft pinkish-orange glow. A tornado of dust blew lazily across the street and carried a leaf away. The palace gleamed brightly in the distance, set back against the rocky mountain dotted with dark green moss. The sun rose higher and started raising the temperature slightly. One by one, the small businesses opened and people woke up.

Rale Scott wasn’t interested in the second-rate businesses that were starting up for the day. His eye was on the prize. As the city came to life, his mind began calculating, thinking of ways to retrieve the precious jewel of Queen Ellesmé.

 He crouched on the low wall close to the entrance of the city. He didn’t need a vantage point; not for this mission. His plan was simple. Get in, retrieve, and get out. That was of course the easy part. He glanced around inconspicuously, making sure that the people he looted on previous occasions didn’t catch sight of him. One-on-one hand-to-hand combat with each of them alone was easy. Together they could potentially start a riot against him.

He grinned at the prospect of a mob of people – merchants – trying in vain to capture him. Over the years, if there was one thing he learned, it was to expect anything and never relax until the job was done and he was back at his den.

The sun shone down on the smooth cobblestone ground. Later the temperature would rise considerably, but by then he would already be gone. He stood up and quickly made his way to tavern. The merchants shouldn’t be there but Rale was ready to run at a moment’s notice.

To blend in with the townspeople or as a passing merchant, he drew his hood up which covered his features. When the waitress came by she smiled and asked for his order.  She returned moments later with a weak tea and some honey.

Pulling his hood back some, he revealed his mouth giving a charming smile at the dark-haired woman. “Give me a shout if you need anything, you hear?” she told him. He nodded gratefully as she moved gracefully amongst the tables to other customers.

He balanced the tea to his taste then sipped at it. The tavern was abuzz with conversation. Rale relaxed his body, knowing it might be the last chance he got for a while. Opening all his senses, he waited until sights smells and sounds flooded his awaiting mind.

Beneath his hood the picture grew, his eyes picking out the finer details and colours brightening what he hadn’t bothered to look for before. His nose picked up the spicy scents of the different teas and herbs and the stronger ones of the drinks, all of which floated in from the kitchen of the tavern. Lastly, his ears were bombarded with the sound of people talking and laughing, some louder than others, and the soft clinking of a teaspoon stirring.

Suddenly his ears perked up at the mention of the Magister coming to the Queen for a visit. More than one person spoke of the event at the same time, but in different parts of the semi-crowded tavern. He strained his ears trying to listen to all at once.

“Yes! According to my source he is coming to ask the Queen for her hand in marriage,” said a high pitched feminine voice.

“You lie!” another voice replied.

From another conversation he heard a gruff voice speaking. “He wishes to join lands with us.”

“Impossible!” was the reply from a husky voice.

All around him Rale heard different stories about why the Magister came to the distant mountain town. It didn’t bother him in the slightest what the Magister wanted. A huge grin spread across his face as he heard the piece of information he needed most. 

He needed to kill a lot of time. The morning was still early and the Magister was due only after noon. At most, he needed 45 minutes to prepare for the retrieval. He sighed and motioned to the waitress who had served him. After paying her, he left the tavern cautiously.