Date:         Thu, 13 Jun 1996 14:59:53 GMT
From: Christopher Vaughan <space.cowboy@WORLDNET.ATT.NET>
Subject:      INT: The Adventurers: Arturo's misfortune.

Reserved:  Arturo

        The streets of Dragon's Tooth were dark and narrow, with millions of
little hiding places for thieves, rogues and rascals.  It was in these
places - the sill of a door, the space behind a rubish heap, a forgotten
crate, and countless other hidey-holes - the Guild of Thieves did business.
Not all of its members, to be sure.  Some had risen to position in the town,
and did their thieving through providing credit or legal services, leaving
their street days long behind them.  But, there were still more than enough
of the street thieves to go around.
        "You see that one?"  Rafiki whispered and pointed through a narrow
opening between the boards of the barrel.
        Arturo squinted.  He could just make out a fat man walking down the
alley.  He wore pink foppery, and strutted like a peacock.  Arturo smiled in
amusement.
        "I'll go out, first, as soon as he goes by.  While I distract him,
you get that pretty little purse he's carrying."
        Arturo nodded and pulled his dirk out of the folds of his vest.
They waited for the man to walk past their barrel, then Rafiki slipped out
and moved in front of the man.
        When the man saw Rafiki he scowled.  "Out of my way, lad," he said,
pompously.
        "Excuse me, sir, but I haven't eaten today."  Rafiki held out a
dirty hand.
        "*You're* asking *me* for a handout?"  The man looked indignant.
"Get away, lad."
        Arturo, meanwhile, had climbed out of the barrel and was directly
behind the man.  He put his hand around the silk purse the man had tied to
his belt, then slipped his knife's blade under the rawhide strap holding it
in place.  One tug and the sharp dirk severed the twine.  The purse was
heavy in Arturo's hand as he ran off down the alley.
        "Hey you, thief, come back with that."  The man was screaming in a
high-pitched voice.  "Help.  Thief."
        Arturo raced through the crowded market place, pushing through the
throng.  A few large men saw him and shouted for him to stop.  He knew that
they were likely only trying to catch him so they could have the money for
themselves, so he ran faster, his naked feet slapping the cobblestones of
the street.
        Arturo turned, darting down a narrow passage.  The men were forced
to stop at the entrance, it was too narrow for them to enter.  Then Arturo
was through to the other side.  He stopped short.  The man in the pink
clothes was there, holding a dagged to Rafiki's throat.
        "You were right, lad, he did come this way."
        Rafiki's arms were tied behind his back, and he looked at Arturo,
helplessly.  "Give him the purse, Arturo.  He has us."
        Arturo shook his head.
        "What's a matter with you, lad?  Cat got your tongue?"
        Arturo felt his face warm in anger.
        "Just give it to him," Rafiki pleaded.
        Arturo heard foot steps and turned to his left.  Several of his
pursuers had gone down to the end of the street and were now running towards
him, again.  He looked back at the fop and then at Rafiki.  He shook his
head, pointed to the man, then to Rafiki and made a quick motion across his
neck with his pointer finger.
        "He's afraid you'll cut my throat if he gives you the money," Rafiki
said.
        "Nothing could be further from the truth, lad.  Give it to me."
        The man reached out his fat hand to take the purse.  Arturo sighed
and handed it to him.  Then, to his horror the man stabbed Rafiki in the
middle of his back.  The boy gasped, then fell to the ground.  Arturo ran to
him while the fat man waddled off.
        "You see, lad, I didn't slit his throat."  He laughed as he faded away.
        Arturo held his brother in his arms as he slowly bled to death.
Rafiki looked up at him.
        "I'm sorry.  You were right."  Rafiki's voice was soft.
        Arturo cried, his tears fell onto Rafiki's cheeks.
        "Is it raining?"  Then he died.
        The men who had been chasing Arturo stopped when they reached him,
then lowered their gazes respectfully and left.

        One of the reasons young thieves join the Guild of Thieves is for
protection.  They know that if anything happens to one of them, the Guild
will avenge them.  This dissuades people who were thought to be easy marks
from killing the thieves they catch.
        Arturo went to the Guild's headquarters to get them to avenge
Rafiki's death.  All the way there, Arturo fantasized about how the fat
dandy would be assassinated.  He hoped they would strip him down to his bare
bodkin and march him through the town until he dropped dead from exhaustion.
Then, Arturo would kick the man's carcass until it was a gelatinous mass of
bruises.
        "You, why come here?"  A giant black man stood at the door of Don
Lionne's home. Don Lionne was the head of the Guild of Thieves, and now
"earned" his living through usury.
        Arturo opened his vest, revealing a dagger shaped brand in the
center of his chest.  The guard nodded.  "Go in."
        Arturo walked past him and into the foyer of the house.  A tall,
lanky man sat there behind a desk.  "Do you have an appointment with Don
Lionne?"
        Arturo started to open his vest but the man held up his hand to stop
him.
        "No, I know you're a thief, lad.  What I don't know is whether or
not you have and appointment."
        Arturo shook his head, dejectedly.
        The man sniffed, then looked closer.  "Wait, I know who you are.
You're the brother of the thief who was killed today."
        Arturo nodded.
        "Well, we shall have to do something about that.  Come in."
        The man walked over to a large, oak door and opened it, gesturing
for Arturo to go in, first.  He did, and froze in his tracks.  The fat fop
sat behind a giant desk in the office.
        "Well, lad, it seems we meet, again."
        Arturo turned to run but the lanky man put his hand on Arturo's
shoulder.  "Not so fast.  You're to pay, lad."
        Arturo looked up, confused, then spun to confront Don Lionne.  "You
know it is the worst offense for one thief to kill another.  You shall have
to pay for killing Rafiki."
        The man pulled some rawhide from his top drawer and walked over,
lashing Arturo's hands and feet.  The boy tried to struggle, but they were
too big for him.
        Then, the man walked over to the window and opened its shutters.
The smell of sea air drifted in, burning Arturo's nostrils.  "Bring him over."
        The lanky man dragged Arturo to the window.
        "Any last words?"  Lionne smiled.
        Arturo looked away, ashamed of his own weakness.  Then the man took
a blade from his belt and cut a long gash in Arturo's fore arm.  If he could
have, Arturo would have cried out.
        "Now, go feed the sharks, boy."  The men tossed Arturo through the
window.  He hit the water, hard, and sank fast.

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        Chris Vaughan                                ||
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