Grince felt his heart quicken with excitement. Surely there must be treasures concealed within...
The door presented little challenge to a thief of his caliber. Within minutes, the lock had yielded. With a shiver of excitement, he set his hand against the panels and pushed the door open to reveal a narrow, windowless room, scarcely more than a closet. Within lay a massive wooden chest, securely banded with wide strips of iron that gleamed darkly in the feeble lantern light.—Grince let his breath out in a long sigh. He knelt on the cold, polished boards before the heavy chest and slid another small, fine tool out of his belt. The stiff padlock cost him a tense, sweating struggle to open, but finally sprang free with a loud click. Muscles straining, Grince lifted the heavy lid. And there they were! The little thief could not suppress a gasp at the sight. The piles of jewels lay shimmering within their sturdy casket, striking a myriad incandescent sparks even from the dim light of his lantern.—Unset gems of all sizes and hues lay heaped in glorious provision among long, twining ropes of pearls and necklaces of fine stones set in delicate filigrees of silver and gold. The back of the chest was divided into small wooden drawers and compartments that held rings, earrings, brooches, and bracelets.—The thief let a glittering stream of diamonds slip through his fingers like cold, sparkling spring water, trying to keep a hold on his elation. With a grim smile he began to stuff great handfuls of the glistening treasure into the sack that he had hooked to his belt to leave his hands free for climbing the chimneys. This was long-overdue revenge. The value of the treasure wouldn’t begin to compensate for the losses Grince had suffered at Pendral’s hands—but now the thief had deprived the cruel lord of what he loved most in the world.
Grince wasted no time in making his escape. Once more he tied the blackened kerchief round his face and headed for the fireplace in Pendral’s chamber, repeating his careful negotiation of the tripwires. As he scrambled up the chimney he could feel the heavy sack, filled now with the Lord’s precious jewels, dragging at his belt.
When he had regained the safety of the rooftop, the thief leaned back against the chimney, closed his eyes, and wiped a sooty hand across his brow. He was overtaken by a surge of raw elation mixed with inexpressible relief to be safely out once more into the cool, fragrant air of a summer’s evening. Taking deep, gasping breaths, he tried to calm himself sufficiently to complete his escape. His luck could hardly hold out much longer. On his return, he had lost his way in the labyrinth of chimneys, and at one point had begun to despair of ever finding his way out. But everything would be all right now, Grince reassured himself. Soon he would be well away from this place.
Wiping his smarting eyes, the thief inched his way carefully down the sloping roof and turned to climb down the rough and crumbling brickwork of the mansion’s wall. He could see the first handholds clearly, but the lower walls were already well in shadow. Grince sighed, and doggedly began to search in the dusky half-light for the best footholds to descend the wall.
He was halfway down when the guard spotted him. “Hey! You there!” As the shout rang out the horrified Grince froze in position, clinging to the rough stonework until his arms and fingers ached. Maybe if he didn’t move the fragging sentry would take him for a shadow....
No such luck. Grince cursed as the blare of a horn sounded the alarm. Now that a thief had been discovered, it would take Lord Pendral no time at all to discover that his precious jewels were missing. Shouts came from the garden below, and he heard a clatter of running feet that was rapidly growing louder.—An arrow whizzed past his ear, making him flinch. It bounced harmlessly from the stonework to his left, and another hit the wall above his head. So far, their aim was being confused by the shadowy grey stonework and deepening dusk, but if he stayed where he was, it wouldn’t be too long before the bastards found the range. Rapidly, Grince reviewed his options. Down? No good.—Sideways? Not much better—he would still be within bowshot, and even if he found an open window, they would see which one he entered and trap him in the house. The thief wasted a breath on another curse, then began rapidly to scramble up the way he had come. At least it was farther away from the sodding arrows.
Grince took a firm grip on the guttering and swung himself up, leaving dark smears behind him from his bleeding fingers. The slanting peaks of the roof were slick with dew now, and the going was far more difficult—and dangerous—than it had been earlier. Breathing hard and balancing carefully, he inched his way up the gradient on hands and knees, praying (though he was not normally a praying man) every inch of the way. If he should fall. . . Well, it would be better to break his neck than allow himself to be captured by that brute Lord Pendral. At least the arrows had stopped now. Grince reached a cluster of chimneys and slipped between them to rest for a moment and catch his breath, though he knew he hadn’t long before some clever bastard thought to bring ladders. The idea of being hunted—or shot at—on these slippery slates so high above the ground didn’t appeal to him at all. The cool night breeze ruffled his hair and chilled the sweat on his back and brow. He craned outward and looked down over the edge of the roof as a clamor of voices rose from the garden. Down in the darkness, a cluster of golden lights sprang forth one by one and the drifting breeze carried an acrid smell of smoke. Someone had brought torches—he just knew the ladder would be next.
As before; the thief had only one alternative—and he knew he’d best get on with it. The iron door where he’d exited from the flues was on the other side of the roof, and he had no wish to risk another journey across the dew-slick rooftop. Sighing bitterly, he tied the cloth back around his face, and lowered himself feet-first into the widest chimney pot.
It wasn’t Grince’s lucky night- Somehow, he lost his sense of direction in the complex system of flues, and came out in the worst possible place.
.Thankfully, the chief part of the feast had been cooked already, and the great fires had been allowed to sink to embers for simmering and keeping some of the dishes warm. The thief burst out of the broad fireplace in a cloud of soot and ashes, beating frantically at his smoldering clothing. Pots and kettles went crashing from their trivets, spilling their contents in a glutinous, scalding cascade as they fell. Coughing and choking, his eyes streaming, Grince scrambled across the spreading lake, slipping and sliding on sauces and vegetables that squelched under his feet at every step.
Luckily, the kitchen staff had been lured away from the fire by the commotion in the garden. Unluckily for the thief, they were all clustered in and around the doorway. A screech went up from the cook as she saw her entire day’s handiwork destroyed by the smoking, blackened apparition that had erupted from her fireplace. Then they were after him.
It was as well for Grince that Pendral’s kitchen staff had not been selected for their wits. If one of them had run for the guards while the rest stayed where they were and blocked the doorway, he wouldn’t have stood a chance.—Instead, they all gave chase, pursuing him round the spacious kitchen. He vaulted across the top of the table, scattering crockery in every direction with a resounding smash. He dodged and dived, the precious sack of jewels still swinging from his belt, catching on chairs and tables and hampering his every step—but having gone through all this trouble for his ill-gotten loot, Grince was buggered if he was going to let it go now. He threw a stool behind him to trip his pursuers and rolled underneath the table, coming out on the other side—and suddenly, there was a clear aisle between himself and the door.—He gritted his teeth and ran for it.