"Now?" Miri breathed.
"A little longer," he replied.
He counted off twenty heartbeats, then squirmed around until he could reach the catch that held the hidden panel down.
Even working blind, it was child's play to pop it open. When he raised the hatch, however, the barrels on top slid, toppled, and clunked hollowly together. He'd expected it, but scowled at the noise even so.
He'd only raised the panel a few inches. Plainly, if he shoved it all the way back, the casks would fall and bang around even more.
"Hold this," he said.
Aeron dragged himself out through the narrow gap. When he got his feet under him and looked around, he discovered he was in Kesk's stable. Horses and mules eyed him from their stalls, but no Red Axes were in view. Evidently the kegs hadn't made enough of a racket to attract attention.
He held the hatch for Miri while she wriggled free. She pointed to a door that apparently led to the main body of the mansion. He gave her a nod.
The interior of the sprawling house was gloomy. Only a few of the lamps were burning, and due to the mild autumn weather, most of the hearths were cold. Still, enough light shone for even human eyes to make out the dirt and other signs of neglect, and naturally, the dimness did nothing to cover up the smell of mildew.
Neither Aeron nor his father was much of a housekeeper. That had been his mother's province until she passed away unexpectedly in her sleep, worn out, perhaps, by worrying over her son's embrace of the outlaw life and her husband's infirmities. But then again, he'd never lived anywhere fancy, and his own slovenly habits notwithstanding, he still felt a twinge of disgust at Kesk for letting such a palace gradually crumble into ruin.
But what mattered was that the mansion was quiet. Aeron knew it wasn't deserted. The tanarukk wouldn't have left his coffers of gold and stores of loot and contraband entirely unguarded. But from the sound of it, most of the Red Axes were off hunting Aeron, or standing watch over their various interests throughout the city, and that meant his scheme might actually work.
"Which way?" Miri whispered.
He shook his head and replied, "I've never been inside here before. They could be keeping my father anywhere. We'll just have to look."
They skulked on, keeping to the shadows, cracking open doors to check the rooms on the other side. The damp river air had warped some of them, making them stick in their frames, and the intruders had to force them open. The resulting squeaks and rasps jangled Aeron's nerves.
They didn't raise an alarm, however, and as the minutes passed without calamity, Aeron started to feel the old familiar thrill. He was still frightened for Nicos, and for himself, come to that, but it was nonetheless a delight to outwit his opponents in the game a burglar played, to trespass where he wasn't allowed and do what wasn't permitted.
In time, he and Miri found a staircase leading down to the cellars.
"Maybe the Red Axes have their own little dungeon," the scout suggested.
Aeron thought about it for a second, listening to the same instincts that had led him to many a hidden cubbyhole or closet filled with valuables.
"It's possible," he said, "but they wouldn't need to lock my father in a cell to keep him under control. Feeble as he is, a bit of rope would do the job, and I reckon Kesk would prefer to keep him close by. That way, he could hurt him whenever he felt the urge, without the bother of tramping up and down stairs."
"So we need to find where Kesk spends the majority of his time."
"Which will be the most lavish part of the house."
They prowled on, and in time caught sight of a wide marble staircase sweeping upward. Partway up, a bravo sat on one of the steps picking something out of his shaggy, tangled beard. At the top, tall double doors, inlaid with a stylized scene of a river, boats, leaping fish, and spindly-legged wading birds, stood open.
Aeron and Miri retreated back into the shadows before the Red Axe could spot them.
"That looks like it could be it," the ranger said. "If you'd let me keep my bow…"
Perhaps he should have, but it was too uncommon a weapon in Oeble. It had marked her almost as well as her green leather armor.
"You still couldn't count on picking that fellow off without him making some noise," Aeron said. "Maybe we can find a back way in. A big room in a rich man's house is likely to have at least two doors, one for the masters and one for the flunkies."
She gave him a nod and said, "Lead on."
It didn't take long to find the servants' stairs, spiraling up and down in a claustrophobic shaft. The risers were narrow, the way all but lightless, and the trapped air was stale. Aeron wondered how many maids and valets had taken a nasty tumble back when the house was young. He caught his first glimpse of the chamber at the top, and it drove such casual speculations from his mind.
The long hall was a solar, one wall a continuous row of windows intended to admit sunlight and provide a panoramic view of the Scelptar. Nicos sat tied in a chair, his eyes closed and his head lolling. His chest rose and fell, reassuring proof that he was only unconscious, not dead. In fact, apart from the mutilation of his hand, he didn't look as badly injured as Aeron had expected.
Unfortunately, the prisoner wasn't alone. The big gilded chair in which Kesk no doubt liked to sit was currently vacant, but Tharag, the orc who'd accompanied the bugbear to Imrys's warehouse, and a human outlaw were hanging around. Moreover, one of the glass panes had shattered, and a small man with a wool scarf masking the lower portion of his face stood before the breach, evidently because it afforded a clearer view than the cracked, filthy windows that remained intact. Gazing through a brass astrolabe, he alternately scrutinized the night sky and scratched his observations on a slate. A green mantle and gold-knobbed blackwood cane rested on a little table beside him.
Aeron wondered if the astrologer was also a magician, and had supplied the Red Axes with the metal mantis and potion of invulnerability that had nearly cost him and Miri their lives. If so, he was likely to prove more clever and dangerous than the common ruffians.
Miri tugged on Aeron's arm, and they sneaked back down the steps a little way, where they could whisper without fear of being overheard.
"How fast can you throw your knives?" she asked.
"Not fast enough to kill four men before one of them yells for help. I think it's time to test these disguises."
She stared at him as if he'd gone mad. Maybe he had.
"I figured that at best, they'd only work at a distance," the ranger said. "I mean, I've seen half-orcs. We don't look right."
"Close enough, maybe, if no one peers too closely," Aeron replied. "A disguise is half attitude and the way you carry yourself. We have the advantage that the Red Axes never expected us to sneak in here. I'm sure of that much. Besides, if they recognize us, and we wind up having to fight, it won't be any worse than if we started out that way."
"Yes, it will. We'll have lost the advantage of surprise." She frowned and continued, "Still, Nicos is your father, and it was your tactics that got us this far. If you're sure you want to try it this way, I'll follow your lead."
"Thanks. Let me do the talking."
They climbed back up the stairs, making no particular effort to do so quietly. The risers creaked.