Chapter 2: First Rule of Getting Out of a Hole is to...

It took me a couple of moments to get my attention off the crossbow, or more accurately, the point of the quarrel that would end my life if he had pulled the crossbow’s trigger in that moment, then to focus on the man holding it.

The first obvious thing I noted about him, (other then the fact he could end my life at any moment by flexing his finger on the trigger), was that he was, I guess you could say unkempt. Normally anytime you run into one of the House members, they are impeccably dressed in the latest fashion that would make a Trll’far peacock blush. But while his trousers and shirt were impeccably fitted, his shirt was not tucked in, and the between his unbrushed hair and lack of footwear, it was evident that I had somehow awoken him from his slumber with my activities. He was good too, he indicated that I should step back into the room I had just exited with a nod of his head, but the crossbow never wavered an inch.

I slowly complied, after all, it is rude for a guest to ignore a suggestion of his host, and doubly so when the guest is not invited, and intent on absconding with the host’s property. The man left the door ajar to let some light in the room. Once he had me covered again from the doorway, he indicated for me to sit down on the counting table.”It seems like our little discrepancy has been due to a common born thief, and not someone who has been internally feathering their own nest. I was sure it was internal, and not some gutter trash. I’ll owe Uncle Kental three soldans on that wager. You’re costing me money even after I caught you, little rat...” he snarled.

He was taking this rather personally, I thought, after all, it wasn’t even HIS money I was procuring, but I think I had his measure. Mr. Angry and Pointing a Crossbow was a full member of House Garrowell, and my nocturnal activities had reflected badly on him. No one likes to oversee the guards that let a Thief (or in this case, a Rogue) steal money repeatedly. He had hoped that it was someone internal, because that would have given him an out. No one can really stop an embezzler with a hand in the till until they were caught. An outside thief however? That spoke to SO many points of questioning.

Namely “How did they get in?”, and “Why were the guards that we pay unable to catch this thief on multiple occasions?”.

And probably most importantly “You hired those guards, and you told us no one could get in, so, isn’t someone stealing OUR money YOUR fault?”

I managed to get out in a barely-cool voice “Let me guess, you thought there was no way that anyone could get past YOUR guards and your traps, so you knew it had to be one of your fellow grubbers with their hands in the cookie jar, right?”. He twitched at that, and I watched his finger tighten ever so imperceptibly on the trigger, knowing that if it was pressed enough, then I would have less than an instant to dive out of the way. Him missing me at that range was possible, but it was about as likely as me being a long-lost Prince who never know his royal heritage. Practically, that is, none.

It was time to apply yet another rule. That was Rule #84: “The first thing you must do to get out of a hole is to STOP DIGGING.”. I later added the corollary “if you must dig, at least dig in a different direction.” There was no way to stop digging here, but if I dug in a different direction, I might change the situation enough to come up with a new plan of action that didn’t involve Arin Wolf becoming a Rogue on a shishkabob stick. Well, on a crossbow bolt. That’s a kind of stick, right?

I relaxed as much as anyone could staring death in the eye, trying to present the outer exterior of what he was expecting to face. That being, a low-born guttersnipe who had never worked an honest day’s work in his life. To be fair, I hadn’t, at least by choice, usually I was either hiding after a score, or preparing for a score. Now that I was caught, I had no choice but to throw myself on his mercy. Mercy being “Beaten, arrested, and thrown into some deep dark dungeon for years to come”. To be quite honest, he didn’t look merciful. I was expecting more like “Tortured relentlessly to find out how I did it, and a paranoid interrogation to find out who I was working for, then quietly killed and buried in an unmarked grave.” It wouldn’t help that they wouldn’t accept my explanation that I was an independent and had paid good money and favors to remain so.

That was quite the pity that, especially since it was the truth.

So, it was time to come up with a plan on how I was to get out of the room, and then down the corridor, and then through the maze of passages that led to Garrowell’s exterior, where I had hidden the rope I had used to climb up. Of course, I had to now stall for that time, and hope that a plan came to me while we waited. So, in a sullen voice, trying to project the “beaten low-born scum” image he was expecting, I whined in a scratchy voice “I know I din’t set off anything, so how did you catch me?” I looked down to complete the effect, but out of the top of my eyes I kept stealing glances at him, to see if he bought the image. It seemed to work. Oh, he didn’t move the crossbow at all, but his muscles underwent a minuscule amount of relaxation. He knew he had the whole thing under control. He had me beaten, and as long as he didn’t do something stupid, I would stay beaten.

“Oh, but you DID, little rat ... since your last visit, several House members decided that someone was taking money from the counting room, we’ve gone over all our security measures and came up with a new one, a pulley that sounds the bell in my bedchambers whenever the door to the counting room is opened. You don’t know how many recent nights I’ve been sitting on the bed, staring at that bell, waiting for it to go off.”

He smirked, and his grin was evident on his face, but didn’t get anywhere near his eyes. “I was beginning to think that our little rat had enough and scurried back into his hole, and we’d never find out who it was, but I was just about to fall asleep when a certain bell let me know our rat had returned, and it was time to see who we had caught in our little trap ... and so we are here...”

His gloating angered me severely, but truth be told, he had the right to gloat a little bit. I had looked all around the room’s walls, floors, and the traps, but I hadn’t looked UP. Not that it was likely I would see the wires leading from the door area up to wherever, but I hadn’t even LOOKED, and I forgot that time was of the essence. In short, he had done his job competently, and I had not.

That hurt.

Not as much as the crossbow would, mind you but I think I had a plan that gave me a chance. It may not have been the BEST chance, mind you, but I wasn’t sure I’d honestly HAVE another chance. He’d probably be summoning his guards to take me away momentarily, if he hadn’t already, and at that point my chance would have gone forever. Shortly followed by me being gone forever. I shook myself slightly to avoid the morbid thought, and decided it was time to put said plan into action. I let my voice project complete defeat. “I knew dis job was too good to be true. He told me all I had to do was make it to the roof and unlock the roof access port with the key he gave me. He’d make sure I got out and I’d get to keep half of everythin.”

That pricked his attention. Catching one thief was a good thing for his family prospects, catching a thief and the insider who had allowed him to slip past the guards would be another matter altogether. It would be something he could reap a lifetime of benefits from, basically mark him has a talented House member, who obviously needed to be in a position of greater authority (and wealth). “Oh, don’t worry, little rat, we’re going to discuss how you got in, and who let you in, and how much he got from you. I’m sure you’re going to be sure to tell me EVERYTHING you know, after all, a rat will gnaw off his own tail if it allows him to escape the trap for a few more seconds...” I was getting tired of being referred to as “little rat”, mind you, but well, considering even if I escaped I would be much better off if he DIDN’T know my real name, or my street name for that matter. His voice made it clear to me, it was definitely going to be the “torture and death” version of interrogation rather than “beating and handed over to the Guard”. One chance then. Time to hope that I hadn’t used up all my luck.

The light wasn’t great, and what little light there was, he partially blocked, so I was still probably an indistinct figure. I was hoping that his eyes had adjusted to the nearly complete darkness. It would be the only thing that would give my plan a chance to work.It was time to throw out the bait. I let my body project complete defeat and that I was facing a hopeless situation. “If I lead ya to the paper work he gave me so you can catch him too, wouldya at least give me over ta the guard instead? I ain’t dyin for no House Master” I muttered softly. “Dat and da Key he gave me outta earn me some slack. I can show you the key he gave me, dat’s gotta be something you can use, right? “ I had told a good, consistent story, now it was a matter of seeing if he believed it, because I was telling him he could write the ending to it.

Would he take the risk that I wouldn’t give the name for some time, even under his promised “discussion”?

If he didn’t, it could let whoever my contact supposedly was time to clean things up so he couldn’t be traced. And I was appealing to his greed as well, I had ratcheted the stakes of the game in his eyes. Catching a thief was one thing. Stopping an internal leak was another level altogether ... but if he could PROVE another House Master was involved, well he could probably go straight into one of the House Manager slots. To use gambling terms, he was playing for pretty low stakes, enough to keep him in the game and redeem his past losses. I just told him he could turn that stake into a much bigger stake for the same investment. And besides, who would know if he broke his word to a not-to-be-missed guttersnipe thief rotting in some charnel pit outside of the city’s limits. Well, besides the guttersnipe himself, and he wouldn’t be in any position to complain, would he?

It took him a couple seconds to think that through, and trust me, every second took an eternity to pass, because if he didn’t go for it, I didn’t have many seconds left. But then I saw him shift a little bit, and I had to clamp down on my relief hard as I surmised that he had taken the bait. I couldn’t relax too much, mind you, it was about to be desperate circumstances time. “Very well, little rat, I accept. You cooperate fully, and when this is over, we hand you over to the Guard for punishment. Who knows, if you’re convincing enough, we may even offer you a job, after all, it’s amazing the uses that rats an be put to, but we’re going to start with this. I want you to show me the roof access key. You are going to put it on the table, and I’m going to hang back here until the guards check in. Then we will discuss further terms.” I knew that the terms at that point would change to “Oops, I lied about giving you to the Guard. Off to the torture chambers you go. Too bad, so sad. Better luck in your next life”. He would have the key, the paperwork, everything he needed to live on easy street for the rest of his life. Or so he thought.