Brian Kittrell - The Consuls of the Vicariate

“What am I trying to do?”

“Put that end in there and feel around.” Caleb pointed at the curved end. “You’re a blind man feeling your way around in the world. Tell me what you see .”

Brice crouched next to the lock and slid the pick inside. “I don’t see why we can’t just break it off. I mean, most locks aren’t strong enough to resist an axe.”

“That’s all well and good, my simple friend, but you might not want people knowing their locks have been bypassed.” Caleb smiled. “After all, we’re trying to be discreet. What do you see in the lock?”

Brice closed his eyes, trying to envision the blocks. “I feel a circle at the back. Next to that, there’s a short block.” He steadied his hand and moved the tip of the pick further along.

“Anything else?”

“Yes,” he said, tilting his head. “Two more blocks. The middle one is the longest.”

“Any levers in the back?”

“Is that what you call those things sliding back and forth?”

“Yes. Good. Withdraw the pick.”

Brice leaned back and looked up at Caleb. “So, what do I do now?”

“That depends. How many blocks did you find?”

“Three.”

Caleb handed Brice a few pieces of flat metal, each similar to the probe. “Take these and lift the levers, those ‘sliding things’ you found in the back.”

“Can’t I use this?” He held up the probe.

“No, you don’t use a probe for this. Notice the grooves?” Caleb ran his finger along the end of the pick. “They’re designed to help you keep hold of the levers once inside the lock.”

Brice nodded, then took the picks and inserted one. After wiggling it in the lock for a while, he heard a faint click.

Caleb apparently heard it also because he said, “Good, now the next.”

Though he became frustrated throughout the process, Brice eventually picked each lever until the lock sprang open. He smiled proudly after the last.

“Don’t be too proud of yourself just yet.” Caleb folded his arms. “These are the simplest of locks. They’re common, but you’ll have a hard time getting into everything.”

“Well, give me something harder to practice on,” Brice said, wiping the sweat from his forehead.

Caleb went to a wooden crate on the far side of the room and returned with a padlock. Brice was amazed at the ornate carvings and gold and silver inlays across the exterior of the padlock. He had never seen another lock to match its quality or beauty.

“I met my match in this lock. It took weeks for me to pick this one.” Caleb handed it to him. “Here’s the key, too.”

“Weeks?” Brice eyed the lock, then held the key to a nearby candle. Slots and grooves of varying lengths were cut into every side of the key except the end attached to the shank. A series of holes had been drilled through it, as well. “What’re the holes for?”

“Curved spikes within the lock. They make it even harder to get around inside the lock and pick it.” Caleb smiled. “A masterpiece, that lock.”

“Where’d you get it?” Brice couldn’t keep his eyes off it.

“Some merchants from Qal’Phamet were selling sandalwood strongboxes and other things a few years back. You can keep that one.”

“Keep it? How much?” Brice asked as if he had any money to offer.

“No charge. The merchants sold it cheap.”

“Thanks.”

“Don’t thank me so fast.” Caleb waggled his finger. “I’ve picked it once, but I never want to try again. You’ll be ready to toss it into the sea by the time you’re done.”

“Thanks anyway, then. It’ll help me learn.”

“Oh, yes. It’ll learn you, that’s for sure.” Caleb grinned. “Ready to do something more fun?”

“What do you have in mind?”

“Like Piers said, our purpose here is to gather information about the church-information we can use against them. He didn’t tell you how we do that, though.”

“Well? How?”

“This time, it’s a daytime burglary, and I’ll need some help in case things get tight. You up for it?”

Brice stared at his shoes. Burglary? I wonder how upset the others will be with me. “We have to break into someone’s house?”

“What, are you afraid?”

“No, not afraid. How can we justify that?”

“Asks the one who came from an assassination mission against a priest? A successful one, I might add.”

It looks like Piers has been spreading our business around. “Good point, I suppose.”

Caleb patted him on the shoulder. “It’s simple. I’ve done it a hundred times before. You wanted to make yourself useful, didn’t you?”

“All right, fine.”

With a nod, Caleb led him out of the chapel and into the street. “It’s this way. In the Ancient Quarter.”

“Ancient Quarter?” Brice asked.

“That’s the middle of town. The newer portions of the city grew up around the ancient city of Uxidia, so that’s what we call it.”

Brice swallowed hardy. “What’s there now?”

Caleb whispered, “The Vicariate, for one. Don’t worry, though; we’re not breaking into the Grand Vicar’s house.”

They turned a corner onto a wide boulevard which wound its way toward a high spot surrounded by walls. Behind the wall stood a huge golden dome, and at the peak of the dome gleamed the silver symbol of Azura-five hollow, elongated diamonds joined at one end and pointing outward like the petals of a flower. Azura’s Star . Brice vividly recalled the meaning of the empty petals from his early childhood in the Heraldan church-a reminder to the faithful that Azura would return someday. To the right of the gates, a building constructed of vibrant red bricks seemed newer than the wall beyond, but Brice didn’t ask about it; more serious affairs clouded his otherwise curious heart.

Please forgive me , Brice prayed silently as they passed through the portcullis. I try to do only what is right . He followed Caleb to a luxurious three-story home, then through an alley to the rear of the residence. Even the back of the house was well-maintained, and he figured it must belong to some snobby aristocrat. I hope this is worth the trouble.

Caleb glanced around before pulling out his picks. “Cough if you hear or see someone coming.”

Unaccustomed to lookout duties, Brice did the best he could to eye the people walking the streets. He had no way of knowing if they were watching him back or if any of them knew what Caleb and he were doing at the end of the street, but he nonetheless tried his best not to appear suspicious.

Turning the knob and opening the door, Caleb pulled him inside the house. Upon seeing the beautiful tapestries and lavish furnishings, Brice felt his heart rate pick up, and his palms became sweaty. We’ll surely be killed if we’re caught in here .

Caleb wasted no time moving across the tiled floor until he turned, apparently noticing Brice frozen in his tracks. Hesitantly, Brice joined Caleb near the stairs.

“Common thieves might waste their time picking silver from the cabinets,” Caleb whispered, “but we’ll be heading up to the sleeping quarters, where they’d keep their intimate belongings.”

Brice matched Caleb’s slow pace on the ascent to the second floor, each step laboriously made on the creaking wooden frame. What sort of ‘intimate belongings’ are we here to find? Brice wondered. To risk our necks in such a fashion over gems or coin would be foolhardy. Information, he said. But what?

Caleb crested the landing and slid along the wall like an assassin happening upon a sleeping victim. Brice matched his movements, creeping beneath the windowsills and being cautious not to bump into anything hanging on the wall. Caleb peeked around the first door, then closed it and moved on without saying a word. Looking into the second, he paused before slipping inside, and Brice followed.