"Sarnol thought the best way out of the house was through the window — seems he forgot we were no longer on the ground floor!"
Sarnol smiled with embarrassment. "Ah, I didn't forget that," he said, before his expression suddenly turned serious. "Twisted my ankle when I hit the lawn. It was the only escape I had. I saw Kernne struck down by one of those damned mercs, and knew I was next."
"Kernne as well?" someone asked sorrowfully.
"It was a tough one," Caradoc said, scanning the crowed as he counted how many of his men had returned. "Hawk also — he died fighting by my side as we held off a veritable army of the bastards. And Lucius was with us too!"
Caradoc raised his glass to Lucius, who nodded in return. One man was inspecting Caradoc's wound, and it was apparent that he had lost a great deal of blood. The scarf was soaked through as the man removed it, and more blood flowed as the pressure was released.
"We best get you seen to," he said.
"Little more than a scratch," Caradoc insisted, though he shifted his weight as he attempted to stand.
"Yes, well, let others be the judge of that. Let's get you up stairs, Magnus wants to see you. Come with us Sarnol, we'll check you out too."
Several thieves moved to help the two injured men, bearing their weight as they filed out of the common room towards the back of the building.
As he watched them leave, Lucius found himself manoeuvred into a tall leather chair and was instantly surrounded by those who wanted to hear the story all over again, but from his perspective. Lucius gave them a quick rundown, crediting Hawk for keeping him out of trouble early on, much to their approval. He spoke of the desperate fight when the alarm had been triggered, of how he, Hawk and Caradoc had fought side by side, though he carefully neglected any mention of how his magic had swung the battle. Instead, he described how Hawk had sacrificed his life to save both Caradoc and himself, creating a diversion that allowed them to escape and continue pursuit of the money lender.
He lingered on the description of Caradoc's warning to the cringing money lender, and this too met with the approval of his audience. There was clearly nothing they liked better than a happy ending. After his tale, there were more questions, more ale, and as a soft haze began to envelop his brain. Lucius' descriptions of the night grew little by little, until it seemed as though there had been half an army stationed within the house. Not that those listening minded, for it simply made their guild seem all the more daring.
"So, the triumphant heroes return!" The voice that rose above the general hubbub of the common room was clear and confident, needing little raised volume to command attention. All the thieves rose to their feet, causing Lucius to look around in confusion before clumsily scrambling to his own.
A well-dressed man clothed in silk and cotton had entered the room, flanked by two others who strode in his wake. The man was middle-aged and greying, though he possessed an obvious vitality that the years had yet to touch. He smiled and Lucius immediately formed the impression of both confidence and trustworthiness. Of course, having spent time with any number of con artists and tricksters, he had learned to be on his guard when confronted by such people, but this man also had an obvious command of, and respect from, the other thieves present. His face was rounded and non-descript, except for his eyes which seemed to constantly sparkle with amusement.
The two men who flanked him were almost the complete opposite. Dressed in black leather with long knives at their belts, both exuded an aura of menace. Lucius thought, if there were such a thing as natural born killers, these two would be the definition.
It was not until the man was among the thieves and clamping a hand on the shoulder of one who had been on Caradoc's mission that Lucius heard someone thank him by name and understood who he was. So this was Magnus, the guildmaster of the Night Hands. Despite all the time Lucius had spent in the guildhouse recently, he had yet to meet the man, though he had heard plenty of stories about him. He recalled Ambrose once telling him that Magnus had been a lieutenant in the old Thieves Guild. When the guild had broken apart, it had been Magnus who had tried to centralise the scattered thieves into a new organisation, at great risk to his life from the guard and other, less pleasant forces. If half of what Lucius had heard was true, then he thought this would be a very easy man to admire.
After shaking another thief by the hand, Magnus turned towards Lucius, and smiled.
"And this would be our newest recruit then. Lucius, isn't it?"
"Uh, yes sir," said Lucius, unsure of how to address the guildmaster.
Magnus waved the honorific away, though Lucius was acutely aware of the attention of his two bodyguards, who seemed to be itching for him to make one aggressive move.
"Just Magnus, please," he said. "You've done well tonight. Brink represents a significant account for us, and the return of his business is worthy of congratulations. I believe you are staying here now — eat and drink well tonight, you've earned it."
"Thank you, err, Magnus," Lucius said, as graciously as he could, though ale and discomfort vied to tie his tongue.
"Get some sleep too. Then come upstairs tomorrow, feel free to explore the place. Perhaps we'll speak further." One of his bodyguards whispered something into Magnus' ear that escaped Lucius hearing. Magnus sighed.
"Ah, that's right. I am afraid I must leave you all now." He looked back at Lucius with a smile. "Pressure of the job you know, they never let up. Welcome, Lucius, I have a feeling you will do well for us here."
As Magnus swept out of the room, the others clustered about Lucius, slapping him on the back and shaking his hand. Through their own celebrations, it took them a while to see that Lucius was thoroughly confused as to what was happening. It was Ambrose who took him to one side to explain.
"You've done well, lad," he said. "I knew you would."
"I don't follow."
"Caradoc must have given a glowing report of you while getting his leg mended. Only senior thieves, those who are full members of the Hands, are permitted beyond the ground floor. You, my friend, are now a true thief!"
Lucius smiled nervously as Ambrose thrust another mug into his hand before calling upon the entire common room to toast him. Raising his mug in return, Lucius thanked the thieves and, ignoring a wag calling for a speech, sank back into his chair, happy to listen to his peers talk business for the rest of the evening.
Morning came too soon for Lucius, and he awoke to find himself in the same chair he had collapsed in a few hours before. A few other thieves were also in the common room, lying insensible, though most seemed to have had the sense to retire earlier on. As Lucius sat up, the world swam for an instant, and he leaned forward, burying his face in his hands as he waited for the after effects of the ale to subside.
His mouth feeling dry and pitted, Lucius stayed in that position until he lost all sense of time. No one else stirred in the common room, though he heard someone snoring softly in a far corner. Shakily, he stood, and wandered out to find water, both to drink and to wash. Running into Ambrose as the veteran thief scoured the kitchen for breakfast, he was invited to take Magnus up on the offer of seeing what else the guildhouse had to offer.
He spent the rest of the morning exploring the two higher levels of the building, and it seemed as though his eyes grew wider at each new sight. It was only now, when he could see the guildhouse in its entirety as a functioning, well-oiled machine, that he understood just how sophisticated the Night Hands were as an organisation. And how much work it took to keep the guild running on a day to day basis.