So first up, I'm now about 9,000 words into Beyond the Horizon, and I'm starting to come to terms with how much longer than Maiden Voyage it's going to be. Looking at what I've planned out plot-wise compared to how far through I am, I'm feeling this could easily hit some 120,000 words. Awesome, big numbers look good.
I also got down to business (to defeat the huns) and started writing a story in my new universe. The world is as-of-yet unnamed, but the story itself is called 'Lifebringer', and is based off the first of the three prompts I posted last week. Already it's at about 7,000 words, and I'm really enjoying it. It's a different beast to The New Age of Steam so far, but I won't go so far as to say it's better.
But then maybe you'd say otherwise, so here's the first chapter. I'd love to hear what you think, and if you leave a comment you can almost guarantee I'll respond.
Chapter 1
Among Thieves
It was a sunny day in Aegis, not that the Priests cared. They
were content to stay within the confines of their high walls and vaulted
ceilings. It was well-lit in there, and one could feel the semblance of
sunshine, but it just didn't quite feel the same as being outside.
But the Priests weren't everyone, so everyone but the Priests was
out enjoying the weather on their empire holiday. The streets surged with
crowds as they wandered from park to park, searching for an empty spot of grass
to lay down on and bask in the sun. Others made for the arena, queuing in their
hundreds in the hopes that someone would leave and they could get in. Outside
the palace a giant orkestra pounded drums and blasted trumpets, as though
celebrating a great victory.
Only a few stayed and watched. The sound could be heard almost
all through the city, so most only passed by for a few minutes just to see the
players. Which was convenient, as it took a good ten minutes to cross the
palace square through the throngs of people.
The shop owners that had chosen to stay open made money hand
over fist. They would close after lunch and enjoy the afternoon, but for now
the grocers laughed the morning away as their purses grew heavy. Even as their
wares grew sparse people piled up to their counters to buy the freshest of
foods.
The quietest place was the docks. No cargo came in or left for
the islands down south, but even then a hundred boats came downriver carrying
tourists from further up the continent. They were the sorts of people that
could take a week to celebrate a day, so most had arrived nights ago. Still,
there was a near-constant stream of partygoers disembarking. Normally the empty
boats would turn and head back upriver, but today even the ferrymen stepped
onto dry land to join the celebrations in Aegis.
The night would bring to life a thousand lantern-lit parties,
the next morning being a workless holy day. Holidays then holy days, that's
what the Argin people loved most. It was the perfect day for a celebration, the
perfect day for admissions and the perfect day for Wrinlett Leeve to finally
get what he wanted.
The ten of them huddled around a cluster of crates that acted as
a table. It was once dark down in Alleyend, but Wrin's boys had turned the
place into a relative palace over the years and nowadays it was bathed in the
light of a dozen ticker lanterns. It was Wrin who'd found Alleyend, of course.
He was just a boy, scared and alone in the giant city, and all he'd wanted was
a safe place to hide and sleep the night. When he crawled through the gap in
the wall where a winding alley ended he'd hit the jackpot. In the years that
followed, Wrin built the spacious hidey-hole into what could almost be called
an apartment.
The crates were covered with sheets of paper, which were in turn
covered in diagrams and drawings. Wrin went over the plan one more time,
readying himself for the third round of questions.
"..and then we're out. The book comes to me, I take it
across the river to our buyer in Jagiston and we walk away with heavy
purses." he finished.
They stood in silence. For a moment, Wrin thought they'd finally
got it. Then one of the boys, the youngest, piped up.
"Sounds awful convenient dunnit? How's we sure you're
comin' back with the money?" said Fork. He was a weed of a boy, named for
his three-fingered left hand.
"By the Impeller, Fork, he's always paid us. When has he
not bloody well paid us?" snapped Gerry, another boy about Wrin's age.
"We'll be cursing no Gods here Gerry, even foreign
ones." Wrin reminded. Gerry grumbled, but his point had been well made.
No-one else spoke up.
He could understand Gerry's frustration though. Fork had been
the first to whinge each time he'd had the plan explained. At least the others
had proper questions about the workings of the escapade, Fork was just a damned
pain. Half the time he was more hindrance than help with his crippled hand. If
he weren't the younger brother of Knife they'd have long since abandoned him on
the streets. That was the sort of power Knife had here. Where Fork was skinny
and weak, Knife was all meat and muscle. More than once someone had asked Knife
where he got his name, and had been answered with the name itself thrust into
their belly. He was a good one to have on your side, Wrin reckoned, but damn
did Knife scare him sometimes. Still, he was useful, and so he and Fork stayed.
"So we're clear? At long damn last we're all
understood?" asked Wrin, meeting the eyes of everyone one by one. He was
met with nods, some slower than others, but none hesitant. "Good. This'll
be easier than the time we screwed the clothmonger, you'll see."
That was met with more trepidation than he'd hoped. Normally the
boys were thick as an oak trunk, but Wrin had misjudged them. The empty spot
left by the clothmonger job where Trace normally stood was still obvious. None
of the ten had quite filled that space around the table yet.
"Look boys," Wrin began, trying to soften his face,
"Trace knew the risks, and he'd always had the most dangerous job. There's
no need for someone like Trace on this job, so none of yous'll be dying today.
Besides, they're healers, not killers."
That seemed to ease a few of them, but one or two of the older
boys, the ones showing signs of beards and muscles, still looked at Wrin with
caution.
"If one of you sods dies I'll bloody kill you." Wrin
said, a smirk twisting his mouth upwards. A few laughs slipped out, and the
tension seemed to be dispelled. "We're good at what we do, this place is a
testament to that. This could be the one boys. If it doesn't go off we lose
nothing, if it does then we're out of this dump. We'll have a house, a real
damn house here in Aegis. We'll have beds, and robes, and a pair of shoes for
each day of the week. You want it all, boys? Then let's go and take it!"
The room cheered, or at least cheered as loud as a clandestine
gathering could. Everyone stepped away from the table, chatting among their
teams of two or three. Some would talk about the job ahead, getting the tiny
details hashed out. Some would talk about everything but the job, trying to
keep the nerves down. The first team of two left, Knife and a lad in his
mid-teens called Orvin. They were security for this job, as they so often were.
Knife wasn't good with words, except for one; his name. The rest had to wait
for a set number of minutes to avoid arousing suspicion; there was nothing
normal about ten ragged boys leaving an alleyway together. It was Wrin's care
and caution that had kept eyes off Alleyend for some 12 years, and in the last
2 when the crew had used it as a base of operations it was this same caution
that had kept them safe.
Wrin himself sat down on his mattress, tucked into a corner in
the main room with the crates. There was only two other rooms in Alleyend, and
one was really just a square with an open hole that led to the plumbing system
so they could shit with privacy. Most of them slept here in the main room. The
third room was storage, and it was where the crates were now being moved to by
Alleyend's four other permanent occupants. Wrin watched the goings-on with a
sense of achievement. This was it, this was what he had built. It wasn't much
by the standards of most, but for kids like him it was more than most ever
hoped for. It was one in a million that dragged themselves out of the
streetside life, and now at 18 years Wrin was going to become that one.
"You're impressed with yourself." came a voice from
above him.
It's owner, Khol, sat down beside Wrin on the mattress. Khol was
almost the same age as Wrin, only a year younger, but they shared the same
bushy black beard, long, hard jaw and forest-green eyes. At a glance some would
call them brothers, and that uncanny likeness was something they'd used to
their advantage over the years.
"When am I not impressed with myself Khol?" Wrin
replied with a wide grin.
"Just because you're all well-spoken with a liking for
theatrics doesn't make you the best of us." Said Khol, a tone of
grandfatherly warning in his voice.
"Sure it does." said Wrin, smile still wide as ever.
Nothing could hurt his mood today. "If it weren't for this brain," he
pointed to his head, "and these giant balls," he grabbed his gonads,
"we wouldn't have half the cash we do now."
"Aye, and don't I know it best..." said Khol. He
paused for a moment, looking almost contemplative. Then he turned to Wrinlett
and matched his confident smile.
"Wrin." called someone from across the small room.
"Aye Purzhy?" said Wrin, getting up and leaving his
friend for the moment.
"I can't find me daggers. Bloody Knife's got 'em
again." said Purzhy.
"That's a shame, maybe you could've used them to shave off
that awful scruff." said Wrin, smiling at first, then levelling Purzhy
with a hard expression. "I highly doubt Knife took your stuff. We don't
operate that way here. Never have. Pull your fucking head in and look for them
yourself. If you can't find them, I hope you throw a damn hard punch."
Purzhy nodded slowly, eyes cast downward, then scurried off.
Odds were he'd just left them in his own sleeping hole and was trying to scam
Wrin out of a spare blade. Wrin wandered back over to where Khol still sat,
rejoining him as the second team left. It was Fork, Gerry and another lad
Gerry's age called Jurd. Jurd the turd they called him after he shat on the
floor of Alleyend five years ago. The three of them were greasemen. Small,
wiry, flexible. They made it in and out of passages most would get stuck in.
They were invaluable.
"What'd he want?" asked Khol as Wrin rejoined him.
"I dunno, a sword or something."
Khol studied Wrin's face for a moment. He knew Wrin better than
anyone, they'd been scamming grocers since Wrin's first days in Aegis.
"You're nervous." said Khol.
"I'm always nervous, underneath it all." said Wrin in
a hushed tone. He didn't want anyone to hear the slightest hint of weakness
from him. Anyone but Khol, of course.
"Not the last few times. After the clothmonger job you kept
it together, you still had the confidence we all lost." said Khol. Wrin
still didn't meet his eyes.
"That was easy stuff. I kept the jobs simple. It was just
basic lifts and four-man scams. This is the first big one we've done since the
clothmonger." said Wrin. He was eager to end the discussion, but he knew
his friend well. Khol wouldn't stand to be left in the dark when it came to
Wrin's feelings.
"This is something different. I'm guessing you don't have
the words to say what you mean just yet, and that's fine. But don't for a
second think you can convince me you're nervous about the heist." said
Khol, standing to leave with Purzhy and Kim.
Wrin smirked to himself as Khol left. His trio was on the set-up
team. Khol was Wrin's lookalike, and that meant Wrin could have two of himself
in one place. It was on this deception that most of their plans hinged. Khol
had his part to play while Purzhy and Kim went off to do the dirty work, and
Wrin would come in later. For now, Wrin was alone in Alleyend with Maggie, the
drop-man. Though perhaps drop-woman was more correct. When the boys got out
with the book, Maggie would be out on the streets moving it from one set of
hands to another with lightning speed. It made them impossible to track, and
even if one of them got caught by a city guard there'd be no stolen goods on
him. She would leave last, long after everyone else was gone.
At the centre of it all was Wrin. He would leave alone, work
alone and come back alone. Only this time something was different. This time,
Wrin didn't plan on coming back.
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