Resurrection (Book 1: The Chronicles of Chaos) Read online

  Chapter 3

  Thorntonvale has two major cities, the first being Thorvale. Home to all the rich and famous, Thorvale was very much the idyllic city. A thriving economy allowed traders of every conceivable type of consumable to ply their trade. Traders from far and wide all make regular trips to sell their wares and to make a living. The residents of the main streets had to literally fight their way into and out of their homes; such was the popularity of the city. The second city of Thorntonvale, Beskholme, was quite the opposite. This is where those who were poverty stricken came to try to carve out a meagre existence. In stark contrast to the cobbled streets and beautifully decorated white houses, Beskholme was grey and murky. It was very much an industrial city. Large factories stood towering over nearby houses, some sending plumes of smoke and soot high into the air which then settled on the buildings below. There was a small market in the centre of town. It paled in comparison with the market in Thorvale but it sold the basic goods the people of the city needed to survive. Alongside the legitimate traders, the rouges and the corrupt came to ply their lawless trades.

  This was also where Conrad D’Abor could be found lurking in the shadows. Beskholme may not have been as grand as Thorvale but it had some rich inhabitants. The advantage for a thief like Conrad is that nobody was likely to call the guards if they found some of their possessions have inadvertently gone missing. Nobody in Beskholme likes the law snooping around. Almost everyone has something to hide. Conrad liked the thrill of an adventure. Every day was a new adventure for him. Pick a target, plan a course of action to get in undetected and steal whatever he fancied. This was his life. It was the life of a thief.

  Conrad had been doing this since childhood. He had been raised on the streets and stealing was the only way of life he knew. Most days he would venture into the market place to “acquire” his food and drink. Conrad did not like the term “stealing”. Somehow, he felt a little bit guilty if he used that term. However, to acquire an item free of charge, did not offend his morals. When Conrad had made a mistake and was forced to maintain a low profile, he would often leave the city and turn his hand to adventuring. The skills he had learned in the streets came in very handy. Conrad was not the sort of man to wade into a situation, sword drawn and ready to fight. He preferred to use stealth as a weapon. Well known in adventurer and mercenary circles, Conrad had adopted the nickname Conrad the Cowardly because of his preference towards using guile and stealth rather than adopting the brute force approach of most of his comrades. Despite the name however, Conrad was not a man to be taken lightly. At only 5’5” he was a man of diminutive stature. He was also very slim and slender. This disguised the fact that his muscles were toned to perfection. Conrad was like a gymnast; exceptionally strong and able to use and manipulate his entire body. He could move with more speed, stealth and agility than any other on the earth; or so Conrad believed. He was nearly the perfect sneak.

  Tonight he had the treasures of a cruel Baron in his sights. Baron Harold had been dealing in slaves all his life. He would take the poor and helpless, promise them good employment and then work them to death in his gold mine. He had made a fortune this way. All knew about his reputation but his promises seemed genuine and he always gave his slaves an easy start. He would feed them well, shelter them and make them very happy. This would last anywhere up to a year. Then he would turn. He would put them in the hottest hell hole and work them until they could work no more. He even forced the women and children to do the same. His fortune was substantial; his vaults full of gold. Conrad was going to leave with as much as he could carry.

  The day had been spent observing the comings and goings of the place. Donning a disguise, having a walk around the Baron’s mansion before donning another disguise and starting over; Conrad had found numerous weaknesses in the Baron’s security. The mansion only had one way in or out. This was through the front gate that led onto a busy thoroughfare. The gate was manned by at least four guards at any time. Working on a rotation of four hours, the guards were always fresh and alert. Even if Conrad was able to slip past the guards, he would surely be noticed by a passer by. The rest of the mansion was surrounded by a twenty foot wall. For most, climbing the wall would be impossible. Not for Conrad. A foot patrol inside the estate walls would be the most difficult obstacle to negate. Two guards circled the grounds looking for anything out of the ordinary. If they spotted him or any equipment he had left in order to escape, they would raise the alarm. This would wake the guards in the small barracks who would then organise a search of the grounds and house. Conrad figured that the barracks would hold between twenty to fifty guards but he was not certain. If they were alerted, he would have little chance of escape. The house itself had no security apart from a vault. This is where the baron stored his money. It could be accessed by a key. Conrad would need to find this but he already had a good idea where this may be. The Baron was reputed to be a greedy man who trusted nobody but himself. As with all greedy men, they like to keep their treasured possessions close to them. The key would most likely be in the Baron’s bed chamber or on his person. To escape the premises, Conrad would use a small charge to blow a hole in the outer wall and slip through into the night. This was his plan.

  The sun went down early in this part of the Kingdom but the streets were still noisy. Conrad decided that an early evening raid would be the best time as most people would be settling down to dinner and so the streets would be about as quiet as they got. Conrad had a self made grappling hook with a sturdy rope attached. He stood back from the wall to try and spot a grappling point he had identified earlier. The extra distance also allowed room for him to swing the hook. Conrad had a quick look around to make sure nobody was watching before launching the hook towards the top of the wall. It caught perfectly on an uneven part of the wall that had become rough and worn over many years. He had spent many years perfecting the skill of identifying a target and hitting it with the hook. It significantly reduced the chances of being detected. This lesson Conrad had learned long ago when trying to scale the wall of a similar mansion. Back then, he had taken five attempts to get the hook attached; four of which were witnessed by local guards. Conrad had spent the best part of a month in a dungeon cell.

  Conrad scaled in seconds. He was like a human spider. At the top he changed the direction of the grappling hook and pulled the rope over. He quickly climbed down the other side. A quick jerk of the rope brought the hook over the wall to be caught by Conrad. Ducking into the shadows, he looked around the grounds and listened carefully. The guards were nowhere to be seen. Quickly, Conrad crossed the grass and pressed himself against the wall of the mansion. He had black clothes on. These almost matched his black hair and dark skin. Heading towards the back of the mansion he paused. There was a rustling in the bushes to his right. Someone was there. He stayed silent and still. There was a sound of water falling on to the grass. Once the guard had finished, he proceeded back to his patrol route. This was only one guard; where was the other Conrad wondered. For the time being it didn’t matter. He watched the guard until he was a safe distance away and proceeded. He ran up to the first window he could find. There was a basic lock on the window but it didn’t offer much resistance. Conrad inserted a long steel spike through the crack of the window, hooking the opening mechanism and pushed. The window opened with a tiny click. He climbed through into a darkened room and closed the window behind him. A small light crystal sat under a flap in his glove. He removed the flap to light the room. He identified his surroundings as the laundry room. From here, the safe was in the cellar below him, the key would likely be found in the Baron’s private study or bedchamber. This was located in a room on the second floor at the east end of the building. The plans to all the buildings in the city were stored in the public library. This is where Conrad gathered his information. Before doing any job, he would spend hours learning every inch of the house schematic. This would come in handy if he needed a place to hide or just a swift exit. He covered the li
ght crystal and proceeded to the door. Slowly and gently he turned the handle. He pulled the door, just a little at first, to see if it creaked. It didn’t. Still being careful but with a little more haste, he pulled the door open enough for him to peer into the corridor. There was no-one around. He paused for a few seconds; listening for any sounds that would give away the position of any nearby person. There was nothing. Straight in front of him at the end of the corridor was a large door that led to the main stairwell. If there were any guards in the mansion, this is where they would be. Conrad’s plan was to find the servants stairwell. He figured that it would be somewhere down the corridor to his left. The carpet on the floor was red, covering the marble below it. On the walls, rare and expensive works of art hung. Conrad headed to his left. There were three doors; one on the left, one on the right and one straight ahead. Using his knowledge of the mansion’s architecture and his years of experience at breaking and entering, Conrad deduced that the door on the left would be the prime candidate. The door at the end of the corridor clicked. Conrad moved with haste and ducked through the door on the left. A servant opened the door and looked out. He saw nothing and continued about his business. Conrad had made his way up the first flight of stairs. There were two doors. The first, he believed, would lead to the top of the main stairwell; the other to a corridor to access the rooms. A quick glance through each door revealed he was right. He continued up the next flight of stairs; only one door this time. Slowly he opened it and peered through. There was a single hallway. It was bigger than the corridors of the two lower levels. At the very end of the hallway, the door he was trying to get to was guarded by a single man. Conrad noticed that there was an alarm bell next to him. The guard was looking down the hallway. Conrad couldn’t move through the door until he looked away. Conrad heard a door on the lowest level of the spiral staircase open and then slam shut. Footsteps followed. Click, Clock, Click, Clock, rang the footsteps. Each one brought this person closer. Conrad listened carefully all the while looking for an opportunity to get through the door. The footsteps came yet closer. Still the guard at the end of the corridor continued to look straight on. Conrad was about to move from the door to hide when he heard the door on the next level down open and close. The footsteps ceased. Conrad let out a quiet sigh. Still he had to wait. This guard was obviously good. Only those who were highly trained would have the discipline to do their job so well. Finally, after what seemed like an age, Conrad heard a faint call from within the Baron’s private study. The guard turned and opened the door. That was all the opportunity Conrad needed. Moving with extreme speed and stealth, he made it three quarters of the way down the hallway and ducked into a room on the right. This was the Baron’s bedroom. It was lavishly furnished. A four poster bed sat in the centre of the room. A real bearskin rug, with head still attached, lay at the foot of the bed in front of a lavish marble fireplace. A large settee and a vanity chest were the other items on the floor. The ceiling was home to a magnificent chandelier. It was made from gold and the finest diamonds. It was a rare piece but too large for Conrad to steal. Yet finer artwork lined these walls. This room stoked the fire of Conrad’s excitement. He couldn’t wait to find out what was in the safe. Conrad proceeded to have a quick look around the room in the hope that the key he was looking for was here. His instinct told him that it was not. There were no secret hiding places, no loose bricks in the wall to store such an item. Conrad only hoped that the key was with the Baron. The door to the private study closed with a bang. Conrad had left the door to the bedroom slightly ajar. He pulled out a small mirror and a stick from his belt. He attached the two together with a piece of string and used it to see where the guard was. Once again he was staring down the hall.

  “Time for the jester” Conrad said to himself removing another item from his belt. It was a clockwork jester. It would somersault forwards and always land on its feet. He twisted the dial and aimed the Jester at the door where he had entered.

  “Here goes nothing” he said to himself, not entirely convinced such an experienced guard would fall for the trick. Conrad readied his bludgeon and let loose the Jester. It rolled out of the door, stopped, looked over its shoulder, juddered and rolled again. The guard moved instantly. He wasn’t interested in the Jester though. He kicked open the bedroom door; eyes peering into the gloom. Slowly he poked his head through the door. There was nothing to the left or right. He pushed the door open until it touched the inside wall. The guard walked all the way into the room. There was a noise from behind the fireplace. The guard drew his sword and eased forward. Conrad was crouching behind the bed. As the guard moved one way, Conrad moved the other. When his back was to Conrad, the guard never even heard the wily thief come close. Thud, blackness took him. Conrad put his bludgeon away and went to gather the Jester. The next part would be fun. A simple bit of thuggish behaviour was in store. Knock, knock, went the Baron’s door.

  “Enter” The voice from within commanded.

  Knock, knock, the door went again.

  “I said enter, did you not hear me?”

  Knock, knock.

  “There will be trouble if this is some kind of joke.” The Baron opened the door to be greeted with a kick in the face. He fell back onto the floor. Conrad pounced on him like a cat.

  “Hello Baron, I have but one question. Where is the key to your safe?” Conrad said with a sadistic tone to his voice.

  The Baron was a weak man. He cracked instantly much to the disgust of Conrad.

  “It’s in my desk, over there” he pointed whilst spitting out cracked teeth.

  Conrad pulled out his bludgeon once more.

  “Say goodnight, Baron.” Thwack, the Baron was out cold.

  Time was of the essence now. The guard would probably wake up sometime soon. Conrad knew he needed to be quick. He returned to the servants’ stairwell and descended to the ground level. He went back through the corridor where he had entered and to the door leading to the main stairwell. The entrance to the cellar was through a door on either side of the main staircase. Slowly and carefully, he pushed the door ajar and peered round using his mirror.

  “No Guards” he thought to himself.

  He opened the door further and peered round. There was no dawdling. Conrad swiftly moved to the cellar door and proceeded down. To his surprise and delight, the entire cellar was the vault. The key fit the lock perfectly and the door opened to reveal a whole world of treasures. There were piles of money, bars of gold, priceless jewellery, all for the taking. Conrad filled his bags as quickly as he could. He would have to come back for some more. As he began his ascent from the cellar the alarm rang out. The unconscious guard had recovered and pressed the alarm. Conrad opened the cellar door and peered out. Through the main doors he could see the barracks emptying and the guards running towards the house. Conrad blasted through the main hall and back towards the laundry room. He waited there for a few moments whilst the guards reached their posts. There would be no time to set the charge. He readied his grappling hook and when it appeared that the guards were at their furthest away, Conrad made his break. He ran across the lawn swinging his hook at the same time to build momentum. He launched it towards the top of the wall.

  “There he is” screamed one of the guards.

  “This will be close” Conrad said to himself.

  He scaled the wall and pulled up the rope only seconds before the first guard reached his escape point. As Conrad switched the hook to climb down the other side, a bolt whistled past his ear. He looked down. One of the guards was firing a crossbow at him. Conrad smiled. As a final act of defiance he pulled a smoke potion from his belt and dropped it onto the grass. Thick white smoke spread everywhere effectively blinding the guards. That was the last they saw of Conrad.

  Conrad had a small hideaway just on the outskirts of town. It was in the slums where no thief would ever think to rob. He too had his own vault. It was accessed via the sewers, which in this part of town, were not nice. He deposited his findi
ngs quickly and then returned to his main house near the centre of town. The irony of it all was that the mansion could be seen clearly from Conrad’s house. It was a permanent reminder of a job well done. There was a knock at the door. He was expecting the Baron to be paying him a visit at some point just not so soon. As always and like a true thief, a cautious approach was taken to opening the door. He was greeted by an errand boy wearing the colours of the King.

  “Are you Conrad D’Abor?” The messenger asked.

  “Who wants to know?” Conrad answered evasively.

  “The King requests your presence for a task most urgent.” The messenger began. “The King begs that you have an audience with him as soon as possible. You can name your price for your services.”

  “Inform the King that Conrad D’Abor shall be in attendance.” He said brimming with glee.

  The messenger departed and Conrad closed the door.

  “Name my price, eh. All the money I desire.” Conrad’s tone grew higher and higher. Rubbing his hands together like a greedy toad, he began his preparations.

  *****