Installment 3.2
Cold water could be refreshing or terrifying depending on how long you spent under it and Eisa knew enough that she was pushing her luck. Her fingers were numbing and even her thighs were starting to burn. She looked between the wolves and Daxton.
She had told him she had a contact from Heperon and one of their ships were in port, yet he didn't try to interact with them, in fact he and his crew were actively ignoring them. They probably thought Michelle was slinking in the shadows waiting for the right moment to meet with her 'contact' or trying to avoid getting pinched by the guards. Of course, the latter was more likely.
But why would Daxton risk that same fate? That wasn't like him, it was even less like him to stroll up to a warehouse with his goons like he was expected. Thieves were never expected.
Eisa looked up at the wolves once more, inhaled and slipped under the water. She swam towards the warehouse at the end of the docks, not daring to break the surface on the off chance one of his minions looked her way. Michelle had taught her better than that.
By the time she had navigated the gloom and found the other side of the dock, Daxton's group were already inside and rummaging around. From the underside of the dock she saw a trap door with a rope dangling through a hole in the wood. Pulling on it would lower a ramp, the kind of thing that would be used by cargo barges with slouched decks to discretely move their load into and out of the warehouse without alerting the guards or competitors.
Only governments and the extremely rich used those kinds of facilities and only the rich could afford to even have a warehouse directly on the docks. Eisa hadn't been paying attention to that detail. She hadn't been thinking very clearly at all in her hurry to escape but now it hit her like a log.
Her canines sunk into her lower lip as she looked up.
Muffled voices could be heard from above and she strained to make out the words. It was some kind of transaction. Daxton's baritone was casual through the floor of the warehouse as was the higher pitched tone of whoever he was talking to. Definitely a transaction. Some kind of planned agreement for a later time.
Eisa's extremities burned with chill as she mounted one of the pylons and tried to climb up out of the water without making too much noise. Her claws were never meant to support her weight but she pushed herself off as hard as she could and caught a grip on the rough pillar about a full body length away from the surface of the water. She hung there for a split second, holding tight.
“This all of it, then?” Daxton was saying.
The higher pitched voice replied, “Yes, all. . . how you say. . . fifteen? All the drums.” He had a northerner's accent, she could tell.
“Good, good. So, five days?”
“Is that a problem?”
“Could be. . . the guards want me, even the soldiers know my face.”
“Is what you're paid for, yes? You have laborers and we have a deal.” The northerner's voice deepened. Feline. Definitely. . . Large one. Eisa shifted her weight as the wood tried to rip from under her aching nails.
“I'm sure we can get in, just saying it's going to be hard to get this stuff in.”
Someone's boots clopped against the floorboards over Eisa. She glanced up as a flickering lantern cast rays of light through the slats between the wood. Daxton's people had started moving barrels of something nearer the front of the warehouse.
“You're inventive! Smart man, I hear. I'm sure this is the right job for you, you'll find your stride.”
Daxton laughed a deep throaty grumble. “I suppose I will.”
“This key will get you into the servants quarters and the kitchen. You put a spoon full in for every soldier and you'll be done in no time!”
“Why not double the dose and kill 'em? What's the point in putting them to sleep?”
“Because I don't want to kill them! Where I come from you kill a snake by cutting off the head, not cutting the body!”
“Didn't know they had snakes in the north. Heh. All right, so we poison the soldiers, then what?”
“Then you disappear. I pay you the reset as we agreed.”
“Mmm. You know, I wouldn't agree to this if it wasn't you. Aren't you afraid the Diqune family'll take your title?”
“You don't need to worry yourself about that. You'll do as your told and if you do well-- no blood, no dead-- then we'll talk about future. Have lots of work for your skills.”
Eisa gripped the pillar tighter. Were they really planning on poisoning the garrison at the central keep? There were no other places with high concentrations of soldiers that Eisa knew of and doing so would easily cripple the cities' defenses but why? More importantly, why would anyone trust the Thieves' Guild to do it?
Some part of her felt slighted at that as sure as if she had been slapped. She was more nimble and competent than any of Daxton's minions--
“Wait a second. . . If they're gonna poison the guards, they must be planning a coup!”
Eisa blinked away the water trickling off her fur into her eyes. That was very dangerous. Dozens of nobles within the city would try to assume power, there would be fighting in the streets and hundreds, if not thousands would die in the ensuing chaos.
“All right, then.” Daxton said. “Ly, get this stuff out of here. Take it where I showed you earlier. Byron? Always a pleasure, I'll see you later.”
The larger feline made a derisive snort. “Don't fail me, little one. It's not your skills I want, it's results.”
“Don't worry about that. You hired the best, you'll get the best. Just don't make it hard for us to do business in the future and everything'll be fine.”
“I don't care what it takes, just break that rabbit's toys. . . Time she learned what real leadership was about.” The large cat snorted and plotted towards the rear of the building.
Eisa looked around, suddenly feeling exposed under the weight of knowing about the conspiracy. She considered her options, hanging there in the dark. “The Lady or the tiger.”
It was so absurd she laughed out loud.
