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   Chapter 7 No.7

The Adventures of Larson and Garrett - On the Honor of Thieves By AaronDennis Characters: 5284

Updated: 2018-01-04 12:02


"Are you apes done, " she asked with a wide eyed expression and subtle shake of the head as she leaned in.

"I'm done, " Seanessy joked, and she glared at him with a frown. "Oop."

"Heh, " Larson started. "Well, you're here, so c'mon…what's going on out there? Tell us what you know, " he added in a peaceful tone.

"The person that killed Rolas, " she said while trying to compose herself by looking up at the rafters and shaking the hair back behind her ears. "He's an assassin, obviously, but he's the one who hired the thieves from the Xorinth guild to ransack the libratoreum. They didn't kill anyone; they just broke in to create a distraction. The lookout, also a thief, but a sort of initiate into the guild, like an intern, you know, he was hired by the assassin, too, but when he caught wind of what was happening, he bolted like a scared bunny rabbit."

"So, who stole the artifacts, " Larson pried.

"We don't know yet, " Charlotte whispered, meekly. Then she flared her nostrils and glowered at the warrior as though his forcing her to admit she didn't know much more than they did had offended her. "Mathew's still investigating that matter, but because of some magickal essence left behind from whatever magick was used is still, you know, I don't know, present, or whatever, he doesn't think the assassin was the thief, and he's not even sure why Rolas was killed. Obviously, the wizard could have teleported in and out without Rolas having to die, but that's how these shady types operate."

The warrior wondered to himself about her being a shady type, sh

ound her teeth, but no one there was taking her as seriously as she wanted.

****

With a heavy, clinking thud, the purses holding Garrett's five hundred gold coins made the desk creak. The fencer had dropped them onto Hannity's papers. The guild master met his steely, blue eyes.

"There, and I had to walk carrying that load of shite."

Garrett was nearly out of breath and frazzled. He collapsed into the small chair across from Hannity. The aged man let a smile flicker over his creased visage. He nodded a moment before looking from the gold to the young man.

"Boyo, I hope this don't turn out bad, " he started.

"Please, Mister Hannity, I paid for your services."

Hannity looked at everyone in the room; Jacque, Garrett, the goons. He took a deep a breath, relaxed, leaned forwards with fingers clasped and elbows resting on the table, and then smiled. The fencer remained distraught with an expectant look on his face. Finally, with a pleading motion of the eyebrows, Garrett enticed Hannity to elucidate upon the matter at hand.

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