“Time to go to work.” The little band scattered out into the market. “Be careful.” he whispered, but they were gone.

Thom stood against the wall of the Singing Bear. His charges, three boys and two girls, all about seven years old, wandered through the crowd. He could see their paths, ripples of disturbed adults. They had been training for three months and this was their final exam.

A loud scream drew his attention to the far left of the square. A guard was holding Chris off the ground by one arm. He was wriggling and kicking to no avail. Thom shook his head and looked down as the guard carried the boy away.

A shout and a minor scuffle to the right, but Sara scurried away without being caught. Seamus reappeared beside Thom without warning and handed over a large purse then slipped away again. Ruby wandered in and out of sight, munching on various sweets. Thom noted her shirt was more stuffed each time she passed, as well.

Thom stared intently at the swarm of people milling about. Xander was nowhere to be seen. There was no ripple, no disturbances, no sign of the fifth young pickpocket. He and Seamus were the best of the bunch, but Xander did not like to show off. He would not reappear until he was done.

The sun was setting as Thom turned back to base. Ruby joined him, still munching on a pie. Seamus caught up next, turning over yet another purse. Sara was sitting in the alley waiting. They all went inside. Xander stood against the wall, his belt bulging with gold and Chris standing shame-faced behind him.

“Couldn’t let him lose his hand, or his head.” Xander explained.

“Thank you, that was thoughtful.” Thom dumped all their profits on the table. “Most of you did quite well today. Get some sleep, we’ll talk in the morning.

]]> http://www.hydypaige.com/final-exam/feed/ 0 http://www.hydypaige.com/bard/ http://www.hydypaige.com/bard/#comments Fri, 11 Dec 2009 13:00:45 +0000 Hydy http://www.hydypaige.com/?p=217

“Throw him out on his head!” The king cried.

Julian figured that was a better pronouncement than being thrown out without his head, but he still turned and ran for the doors before anyone could change the verdict. His multicolored balls still littered the floor, tripping up a few of the rushing guards. His pigeon darted about the rafters, but he always came home eventually. His guitar banged against his back and he darted about. They took hold of him before he made it out, but simply escorted him the rest of the way, with no throwing at all. Julian decided it was a fair end to the day and headed home.

The streets were full of revelers from the harvest festival; singing, drinking and staggering about. He lifted a purse here, toasted a few people there and made it home a little richer and warmer than he had started the day. The king had failed to pay him, and as a king’s money come from the people, it was only fair they should foot the bill.

His room at the top of the Roasted Boar was dry and warm since the rain had stopped the day before. He sat down on the straw mattress and spread out the purses he had gathered – five in all – to see what his performance had been worth that day. Four held a modest amount of money, silver coins and a few copper. The fifth was a shock, as he had targeted no one he thought very wealthy, they tended to make more problems when they came up short. It contained gold and several rings with fine cut gems.

Julian gazed at them, holding each up to the lamp for a better look. They had to be worth more than all the money combined. What were they doing in a plain leather purse of a drunken merchant? What was he going to do, no one would buy these off him, they would ask too many questions. Maybe it was time to head to the big cities of the coast after all.

Julian stuffed the money into the purses again and hid them about his person. The gold and rings he put inside his shirt. Making sure he had left nothing else behind, he slipped out of the inn and headed east. He would be able to flag down a carriage in the morning. Right now, he wanted to be as far away as his feet could take him.