"That, and to keep you from deciding our alliance is a mistake, and skipping out the back door."
He chuckled and said, "You're finally learning to think like somebody who belongs in Oeble."
"That's an insult, but I'll let it pass."
They headed for the tower and climbed the three steps to the entrance, a high, arched oaken panel with a smaller door, scarcely taller than waist high, inset in the larger one. Aeron clanked the wrought iron knocker up and down, and they waited.
After a time, Miri said, "Maybe they decided they don't want any part of our problems."
"Or maybe," Aeron replied, "they need a couple minutes to ready their trap."
She scowled and said, "If you actually think th-"
The full door swung open, and a stocky man with waxed, upturned mustachios frowned out.
"Get inside," he grunted
Aeron stepped through, and Miri followed. Beyond the threshold was a gloomy, windowless anteroom.
"Now give me your weapons," the stocky man said.
"I'm here to see Ombert Blackdale," Aeron replied. "He knows me. We've pulled jobs together."
"He knows who's come calling," said the tough, "and he told me either to collect your blades or send you on your way."
Aeron sighed. He hadn't expected to win that particular argument, but it had been worth a try. He handed over all his Arthyn fangs except for one throwing knife he was currently carrying strapped to his forearm beneath his sleeve. By itself, it was a slim defense, but better than nothing.
Glowering, plainly not liking it one little bit, Miri surrendered her sword, bow, quiver, and dirk. The ruffian hung everything on a pegboard, then led the visitors deeper into the tower. His heart pounding, Aeron waited for other outlaws to rush out at them.
They didn't.
The inhabitants of the well-kept, lavishly furnished spire eyed the newcomers speculatively, but made no effort to interfere with them. Most of the folk who were still awake were smaller even than gnomes like Burgell, smaller than many human children, and that was as Aeron expected. The Lynxes were notorious for being Oeble's preeminent halfling gang, though they did occasionally recruit a representative of another race. Like Kesk, they'd invited Aeron once upon a time, but unlike the tanarukk, hadn't taken offense when he declined.
The stocky ruffian led the visitors up a flight of stairs. The climb felt awkward, because the risers were too low and shallow for long human legs and feet Still, Aeron managed the ascent without stumbling. At the top, they found the leader of the Lynxes seated at a halfling-sized table tucking into a breakfast substantial enough for a giant.
Ombert Blackdale had the straight, shiny raven hair, luxuriant sideburns, and pleasant features characteristic of his kind. In his case, a round face and a sprinkle of freckles contributed to the general appearance of amiability. Despite the short sword lying ready to hand among his silverware and fine porcelain crockery, he scarcely looked the part of an outlaw chieftain, but anyone familiar with Oeble's criminal element could attest to the fact that he was almost as dangerous a felon as Kesk, though he lacked the latter's instinct for sheer viciousness.
"Good morning, Aeron!" the halfling called. "Who's your friend?"
"Miri Buckman of the Red Hart Guild," the ranger replied.
Ombert frowned and asked, "The same guide who killed Kerridi and the others?"
"Yes," Aeron said, "but I can't afford to care about that right now."
"If you say so," Ombert said with a shrug. "They were your friends. Welcome to the both of you, then. Will you join me? I like a good breakfast before I turn in, and I think Cook made enough for a couple more plates."
The twinkle in his blue eyes said he understood very well that the kitchen had prepared enough eggs, toast, ham, bacon, and slices of apple and melon to feed a dozen.
Aeron hadn't eaten since the start of the previous night, and the steaming food both looked and smelled appetizing. He opened his mouth to accept the invitation, and it occurred to him: What if something was drugged? That would explain why the Lynxes hadn't tried to overwhelm him and Miri by force of arms. They knew an easier way to take them prisoner.
Yet he'd decided to gamble on Ombert. Otherwise, he and Miri wouldn't be there at all. It made no sense to go that far, then risk offending the halfling by declining his hospitality.
Accordingly, Aeron said, "Thanks, we could use a meal. I'm afraid these cloaks are wet…"
"Toss them anywhere," Ombert said. "Someone will come around to clean up after us."
The little chairs were hopeless for full-grown humans. Aeron realized that he and Miri would do better sitting or kneeling on the floor. She looked entirely comfortable in that attitude. He supposed scouts were used to taking their meals without the benefit of any sort of furniture.
The food was delicious, and nourishment seemed to push back his weariness a little. That was good. He wanted his wits sharp for the conversation to come.
Ombert let his guests eat in peace for a while, with only the clink of their forks on their plates to break the silence.
Eventually he said, "Well, my friend, it seems you're the most popular man in Oeble. Everyone is looking for you."
"Including the Lynxes?" Aeron asked
"Of course," Ombert said, his voice as serious as could be. "When I clap my hands, a net will fall from the ceiling." Miri glanced upward, and the halfling grinned. "I'm joking. The tanarukk is offering a considerable bounty, enough to tempt most anyone, but I'm inclined to let the Red Axes do their own dirty work."
Aeron said, "I was hoping you still hated him."
Ombert smiled, but his eyes were cold.
"Hate's such an ugly word," said the halfling. "Let's just say that he and I have been trying to pick many of the same plums for quite a while now."
"As I recall, he made a couple attempts to kill you."
"I survived, and sent a warning. It's old news now. Let's talk about your adventures. What was in the lock-box you stole?"
Aeron saw no point in giving that particular piece of information away.
"I don't know," he said. "It's warded, and I haven't been able to crack it."
"If you don't even know what it is, then why didn't you hand it over to Kesk as agreed? It's not like you to break a deal."
"Kesk knew the box would be well protected. He didn't warn me, and Kerridi, Dal, and Gavath died. What's more, the Red Axes were planning to murder whichever of us survived the job."
"So no one could trace the coffer to them. Fair enough, that certainly relieves you of any obligation. Though it doesn't explain why you're running around with the same guard you robbed in the Paeraddyn."
"Kesk took my father hostage," Aeron said.
Ombert frowned and said, "That's a breach of the code, as I see it. Nicos was one of us in his time, and always dealt fairly with his fellow thieves. He earned the right to live safely in his retirement."
"When has Kesk ever truly cared about the code?"
"You have a point."
"Anyway, Miri offered to help me rescue my father. In return, I'll give the strongbox back to her."
Shifting his gaze to the scout, Ombert arched an eyebrow.
"Wouldn't it be easier just to knock this rascal over the head when he isn't looking," the halfling asked Miri, "tie him up, then torture the location of the coffer out of him?"
Miri glared at him and said, "I gave my oath."
"Of course," Ombert said. "Forgive me, I meant no offense. So, it's the two of you against the Red Axes and all the lesser gangs who truckle to them. I'm afraid you're still facing some long odds."