Three rooms were dedicated to maps and charts, scattered over tables, pinned onto walls, and rolled up on shelves that reached to the ceiling, ready for inspection when a mission demanded. The patrol routes of the Vos guard were accurately timed and drawn on one map, allowing any thief to see exactly where blind spots would appear and when. Floor plans of many buildings in Turnitia were collected in the stacks, and Lucius watched another thief pour over one as he devised his next robbery. Information was collected on people as well as structures, and he learned that the libraries were considered to be living things, constantly added to as the guild learned more and more, for the benefit of all its members. A laboratory was present, allowing thieves to make all manner of concoctions, from smoke and sleeping powders, to deadly poisons that would ensure no enemy of the guild would survive for long. There was even a training room, suitably soundproofed with targets for shooting or knife practice, a ring for blade training and, round the edges of the over-sized chamber, a running course across which could be strewn a variety of different obstacles.
It seemed, too, as though Lucius had not been wholly wrong when he had imagined a guildhouse with links to the sewer system of Turnitia, for that is exactly what this building boasted. Near the underground vaults in which the greatest stolen treasures were kept, as well as the guild's own vast treasury, were several secret passages that took a winding path down into the sewers. These were built to allow members to enter or leave the guildhouse freely, beyond prying eyes.
Lucius was later drawn back to the armoury, which lay next to the training room. Blades, spears, sections of armour and hundreds upon hundreds of various tools of the trade lay on shelves and in racks.
He saw a host of weapons of varying lethality and, having been told senior thieves were free to pick and choose from the armoury, started to inspect an incredibly well-crafted crossbow. Honed from a lamination of light but strong woods, a series of lenses in a wooden tube was mounted over the groove that took the bolt. Standing at a window, Lucius found he could adjust the lenses to bring far objects into focus. Fine wires within the tube marked exactly where a fired bolt would strike, should the target be within range. Other weapons soon revealed similar ingenuity, such as the sword whose pommel could be separated to draw a dagger from the hilt — useful if the main blade was ever broken.
However the weapons were the least of the treasure in this room and Lucius soon found himself exploring the vast cornucopia of tools, such as pots of swordblack used to dull a blade from reflections, dark silk bodysuits that could make even a clumsy thief silent, and the glass-cutting cups Hawk had used to break into Brink's house.
"There is just something about the mind of a thief that makes him fascinated by these toys," said a voice behind him. Lucius turned to see Caradoc leaning against the door frame.
"This was where I came as well, when I was brought into the guild proper," he continued. "Though there were far less toys back then."
"I am not sure I would call that a toy," said Lucius, indicating the crossbow.
Caradoc smiled. "You'll want to practice with it first. It is not as easy to use as you might think — you have to learn how to use the sights, or your shots will never land anywhere near your target. But I think you are quite wrong about these not being toys. All a good thief really needs is a decent blade, soft boots and his wits, the last being the most vital. It seems as if there is always someone trying to get an advantage, however they can. They come up with an idea, and try to build it. Some work. Some need constant revision, with many minds applying themselves to the problem over time. Which, really, is what this place is all about."
Lucius nodded in understanding. "How long have you been with the Hands?"
"Since the beginning. I knew Magnus from the old guild, and he brought me with him when he created the Hands."
"You are close friends, then?"
Caradoc paused and frowned. "We trust each other, certainly."
"You… don't always agree with what he does?" Lucius asked, wondering where the boundaries were in this conversation. For some reason, he knew he would never have been so direct with Magnus, though the guildmaster seemed far more personable than his lieutenant.
"You don't always have to agree with your leader," Caradoc shrugged. "He knows I'm not an automaton. The important thing is that he trusts me to follow his orders, and I trust him to do what is best for the Hands. That is what we have in common — a desire to make the Hands the best guild it can be."
"So what about the other? The Guild of Coin and Enterprise?"
For a moment, Caradoc looked as though he might spit in disgust, before he remembered where he was. "Well, that is where Magnus and I may differ. He believes we can reach an accord, dividing the city between us without bloodshed. He says it is the most profitable route for both organisations, and I guess I can see the sense of that."
"They don't seem very receptive to that idea," Lucius said.
"No. Once, maybe up to a year ago, we might have made an agreement. But something has changed within the Guild. They are too aggressive, pushing too hard." He sighed. "I fear a war is coming. This might not have been the best time for you to join us!"
"I can take care of myself."
"You proved that last night. Look…" Caradoc seemed self-conscious as he mustered his next words. "I wanted to thank you for stepping in yesterday. Those mercs were tough, and I am not sure I could have taken them all. You did well."
Lucius blushed and he felt as uncomfortable as Caradoc looked when confronted with this gratitude. "Anybody else would have done the same."
"Well, you were there and they weren't. Thanks anyway," Caradoc said, looking at the floor. "What was it, flash powder you used to distract them?"
Not trusting his voice to carry the lie, Lucius just nodded.
"Good move. Painful stuff too, when shoved in someone's face. Still, that bastard deserved what he got."
Not having anything more to add, Lucius simply smiled, and the expression was returned by Caradoc. Neither said anything more, and Lucius pretended to look over the crossbow again, doing anything to break the uncomfortable silence. He looked up again when Caradoc coughed.
"Anyway, there's a meeting going on. Magnus asked me to fetch you."
"Me?"
"Just routine business. Magnus thinks that it would be good for you to see how the guild operates."
"Well, if Magnus has asked… Who else will be there?"
"The most senior thieves of the Hands. These meetings are used to track business, spot opportunities, and generally ensure everything continues to run smoothly. Needless to say, your input won't be required. Just watch and learn."
Leading Lucius up to the third and highest level of the guildhouse, Caradoc took him to Magnus' own meeting hall. Lucius had to bite his tongue to stop from gasping at the sight of the room.
The walls were covered with carefully sculpted wooden panels, displaying exquisite craftsmanship in their varnish and carving. No rare paintings hid their natural beauty, and Lucius got the feeling that Magnus was, at heart, a man who enjoyed simpler things.
The room itself, however, was dominated by a long dark wood table, whose polished surface reflected perfectly the light of the oil lanterns standing on pedestals in each corner of the chamber. Around the table were eighteen tall-backed chairs, upon sixteen of which were seated an assortment of men and women. Some Lucius had seen before, passing through the common room, but he did not know any of their names. At the head of the table at the far end of the chamber sat Magnus, and he smiled as they entered.
"Here comes our hero Lucius — welcome to the Council," Magnus said grandly, and Lucius felt acutely discomforted as all eyes turned on him. Caradoc had taken his seat at the opposite end of the table to Magnus, indicating that Lucius should take the last free chair, halfway along the left edge.