"I been in this group for a long time, and there wasn't never a better leader than Bear. He gave us back our pride. He had plans for us, plans so that we wouldn't have to skulk around like cowards, jumping at our own damn shadows. We went out and we took what we wanted, when we wanted, and all of Braedon was afraid of us!"
"That's for certain, Wolf," said Clia, her lilting voice now dripping scorn. "So afraid that they slaughtered unarmed men, women, and children!"
"So we fight back!" roared Freylis. His eyes were bright, burning with fervor. The small hairs on the back of Deveren's neck rose, a primal response to present fear. This was the Freylis he'd been expecting to see emerge tonight: a fanatic.
"Don't you see?" Freylis continued when the group did not immediately respond. "Either we're the hunters, the killers, or we're what they eat! Bear was right-I want to follow where he tried to lead us. We have all the power because we're the ones who break the laws! I say, let's let Braedon know that we won't be intimidated!"
The spirits of more than a few thieves revived under Freylis's tirade. Fear and helplessness gave way to eagerness and arrogance, and some cheers went up.
Deveren's heart sank. 'Thank you, Wolf. Otter, it's your turn."
The Otter, Pedric, had just turned twenty-four but he was a veteran thief. Deveren had been witness to his coolness under pressure before, and this time was no exception. In fact, if anything, Pedric seemed bored by the whole proceedings.
"I've been in this organization for quite a few years now, and I think it's been improved by my participation in it." Murmurs went around the room. Deveren suspected that, while Pedric's statement was undeniably true, his superior attitude wasn't going to win him many votes. "I've got some pretty good social contacts-" here a few people actually burst out laughing at the understatement; like Deveren, Pedric traveled in the very best circles possible, "-and sometimes that comes in handy."
His casual pose bespoke his utter lack of interest. Marrika gazed up at her lover with thinly concealed fury, her expression darkening with every word Pedric uttered in his soft, disinterested voice. Her hand tightened on her knife, and for a moment it looked as if she would like to stab Pedric's leg with the little weapon. Deveren assumed that Pedric was going to be alone in his bed tonight when this was all over.
"Anyway," Pedric continued, "if I'm chosen leader, I'd do my best to fulfill my duties."
He sank down beside Marrika. She stared at him with eyes that sparkled with anger, her lovely face hard and unforgiving. "What?" Pedric asked. "What?"
The other two had spoken, and now all eyes turned to Deveren. He crossed his arms in front of his chest in an unconscious gesture of defense. What he was going to say was, he was certain, not going to be well received.
"I don't think that we as a group call ourselves loyal templegoers." He grinned, and the crowd chuckled. "We know well enough what the gods have to say about us. Light, in particular, couples us with traitors and murderers. I don't know about you, but I'm neither of those. There's a saying, that there is no honor among thieves. I say, that's a lie, and I want you all to help me prove it.
"What I would do as leader is to prove that there is honor, that there is fair play and some kind of decency- that the title of thief doesn't have to taste like filth in our own mouths. Wolf speaks of unity, of reclaiming lost pride, and I'm all for that. But where is the pride in butchery? Last week's… haul… got us some trinkets, yes. But the three councilmen we ambushed last Travsdae were unarmed, trapped in their carriage. I don't think there's too damn much to be proud of in running a blade through men as if they were rabbits in a hutch."
Freylis frowned, his rough face made more malevolent than ever with the slow flush of anger. Now he bellowed, "By Lady Death, you want to castrate us!"
Others joined the outburst, crying "Make us weak!" "We're criminals, not king's men!" "Quit slumming and go back where you belong!" Some of the catcalls came from people that Deveren had considered friends, and the insults stung. But he had known that his idea, revolutionary and alien, would not be understood-at least not at first.
"You don't understand!" he shouted, his strong, clear voice barely heard above the din. "Don't you know what went on at the Whale's Tail? Those weren't our own city guards, you fools, those were hired assassins!"
The single, dreadful word "assassins" was heard above the growing clamor, and the group fell silent, shocked. In the sudden quiet, Deveren continued.
"I know the guards. I'm friends with the captain. Don't you think I'd have warned you if anything like this was going to happen?"
"Maybe they didn't want anyone to know," said Clia uneasily.
"Even so, think for a moment. We all know Vandaris. Does anyone here seriously believe that he would have given the order for that kind of a bloodbath? And the constabulary-do you really think they'd be able to carry out something like that so quickly-and so successfully?" No one replied. Deveren began to feel, for the first time that evening, that maybe he might win.
"Besides, Allika, who's got as sharp an eye as anyone I know, tells me they were all in black. Had soot smeared on their faces." He lifted his hands and mimed the gesture, underscoring the point. "Now, as Otter said, there are advantages to social position. My brother's an ambassador, and thanks to him I know assassin technique and costume when I hear about it. We had gone too far when we killed those councilmen, and someone high up- very high up-wanted it stopped." He grinned without humor. 'There's a balance, my friends, between crime and honest labor, and whoever did this knows the politics of such a situation very well indeed. This wasn't an outraged citizenry trying to quash a few cutpurses. Whoever did this doesn't care if we steal. They want us to know our place. The murders in the Whale's Tail were a message, and by the gods, we're going to either listen to it or be destroyed. Next time, they won't spare Allika-or you-" he pointed at Rabbit, who paled visibly, "-or you" and Clia glanced down at her tightly laced fingers. "It's simple. Change, or die. I know how we can change. I know techniques, tricks, other things I can teach you. Now, either you choose me and let me help-let me lead you-or I'm leaving the group. This out-and-out war with assassins is too risky a game even for a gambling man like me."
His appeal to their noble sensibilities had failed, but his harsh, truthful assessment of their current danger had given his colleagues pause. There was a long silence, as the thieves digested the new information. At last Rabbit, who had been sitting in a corner quietly observing everything, stepped forward.
"Are we ready to vote?" The thieves nodded and a few voiced affirmatives. "Then let's be about it. It's been a long time since we've had to do this, so let me explain the process. I've collected pebbles and beads in three different colors-gray, black, and white. Everyone gets one of each."
He began handing out the pebbles as he continued to explain the voting system. "Wolf is gray, Otter is black, and Fox is white. Think hard about your choice, and when you've made your decision, drop the appropriate pebble in the box in the corner."
He peered back at Deveren, then glanced over at Pedric and Freylis. "The candidates will please cast their own votes first, so they don't know who's voting for or against them."
Freylis went first. He tossed his gray pebble in with undue force, glowering back at Deveren. Pedric then dropped his own bead into the box. When Deveren reached to deposit his own vote, he was surprised and moved to see a white bead, not a black, next to Freylis's gray.
He cast his own vote and went back to his place, watching the eyes of the thieves as, one by one, they stepped forward to make the decision that would have a vital impact on their lives. Deveren tried to read their faces. It was no easy task in the dim lighting, and thieves, more than most folk, learned early on how to cloak their expressions. Not for the first time, Deveren wished he had his brother's gift of mind magic. There were times when it would definitely be useful to be able to read thoughts. When it was done, Rabbit rose.