The Captain of Three

The Thieves Guild, written by Jake Kerr, Chapter three, The Captain of three. The hut was small, functional, and well maintained. It also had the sharp, fermented tang smell of old cider. It was a smell Rogers associated with the honest, brutal work of the Fields, where getting drunk on cider was the only thing that got you. Through some days. Xavier poured a murky amber liquid into two wooden cups. His hands were gnarled like tree roots, his skin the texture of cured leather. He was the captain of the Fields, a man who managed the guild's interests where the city ended and the world began. He was old, isolated and hoped, hungry for the truth. The runners tell me the bridge is down. Xavier slid a cup across the rough hewn table. Not that such a thing affects me, But I'm interested, you know. He leaned forward. And what I'm most interested about is why and how did the outlanders breach the gate. The old captain sighed and leaned back. Getting the what out here is hard enough, but getting the why is nigh impossible. The Rogers took the cup. The cider was strong and sour, They don't tell you because they don't know. The tower is silent. Xavier Raylan plays at being guild Master, but he treats information like a toy, sharing it only when it amuses him, and that's if he even knows the truth. With all his running around, Xavier grunted, sipping his drink. The boy always was a chaotic element. I remember when he let the pigs loosen the market during the day festival. Funny then, especially with the reaction of his brother. Not so funny. Now. Chaos is not leadership. Rogers leaned forward into the flickering light of the tallow candle. Chaos is dangerous. Look at the city. Larsen is dead or Ryan is dead. The lower quarter is a cinder. And where was our guild master while the fires burned? Who knows? Rogers let the disdain drip from his voice. He saw Xavier's eyes narrow. The old man respected order, The fields required, seasons, cycles, predictability. Raylan represented none of. That, and you hear nothing because keeping everyone informed isn't a priority for him. The messengers, the updates, those stopped when Raylan became guild Master. Xavier nodded solemnly, which Rogers took note as disapproval. I should know, because I didn't get updates either, and I am much further away than you. Rogers knew that the reason the messages had stopped was due to the civil war in the city. Updating the captain far out in the fields simply wasn't a priority, but he didn't tell Xavier. That I held the line. When the merchant guards tried to clear the flats, I was there. I organized defenses. I was lifting buckets of water as it burned. I rallied the families when they had lost hope. You had help. Of course, Xavier's voice wasn't expressing doubt so much as sadness. Of course, you know our guild. No other guild stepped up as much as ours. But there was no leadership, so I filled the roll. There was no one else. A lard was missing, Raylan was gone. Rogers took another drink, letting the silence stretch and Trader's bridge. That was me too. Xavier looked up, surprised you. Dropped the bridge. I led the Harvest Guild to hold it. We burned wagons to stop the cavalry of the Knights who were planning on clearing the upper quarter in the same way they burned the lower There was no other option. Desperation sometimes leads to desperate choices. Indeed, my friend, when the flames died, I gave the order to the miners to pull the keystones. I sent the bridge into the river to save the upper quarter. Rogers watched the respect dawn on Xavier's face. It was a heady thing. He wasn't just bragging, he was building a foundation. I didn't stop there, Zevia. The city is a game of masks. To save our people, I had to wear them all. He set the cup down with a hard clack. Karch named me captain of the lower Quarter for the Merchants because I saved his guards from a slaughter I predicted. Polo named me captain of the lower Quarter for the Harvest Guild because I saved his members from Carch. On Trader's Bridge and in the pit, Zavier's mouth hung slightly open. He stared at Rodger as if seeing him for the first time. You are a captain of the Merchants and the Harvest Guild and. Our own guild. Three guilds, three captaincies, one man. He's spread his hands. I have infiltrated the highest levels of our enemies. I have access to Carche's ear and Polo's private garden. I have placed the Thieves Guild at the very heart of Ness's power. Xavier shook his head slowly, a look of profound admiration replacing his earlier wariness. That is incredible work, Rogers, incredible. I'm old, and I have heard of no such similar feat. We were on the verge of a golden age. I had Polo's trust, I had Quinto's respect. The council was set, the vote was called. Vote. Xavier was thoroughly intrigued in Rogers's story. Rogers looked down at his hands, clenching them into fists. I was inches away, Xavier inches Polo nominated me to be the guild master of the Craft Guild. Xavier choked on his sider. He coughed, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. You guild master Craft. It was the perfect coup. A thief on the council, a thief running the builders, the smiths, the masons. We would have controlled the city without ever drawing a blade. We would have been safe forever. By the gods. What happened Rogers looked up. He let the anger, the betrayal, the raw injustice of it all flood into his face. Raylen happened The podcast Alchemy production