The next morning, Theo was woken abruptly by a brilliant flash of light and the yelling of angry men. His hands flew to his blinded eyes to protect them from the light, just as two rough pairs of hands grasped him on his shoulders.

  “Oi!” a brusque voice said, “wha’ do you think you’re doin’ in ‘ere?”

  Theo was yanked out of the small cupboard he had only moments ago been fast asleep in. He had, just before dawn, climbed aboard an empty trading ship moored in the docks of Charles Town. It had been much later than he anticipated, having been held up in Duke David’s home, and he needed to improvise on his lodgings.

  The hands let him go as suddenly as they had taken him and Theo was flung flat on his belly onto the deck of the ship. His eyes adjusted to the blazing sunlight just in time to see a pair of smelly, old boots walk up and stop right in front of his face. Theo looked up, squinting at the towering, muscular sailor that the boots were attached to. He was tattooed with strange symbols and languages all over his shirtless, weathered chest.

  “Well?” the Sailor said. Theo glanced over at the other man, who was as skinny as the tattooed man was large.

  People nearby were craning their necks to see what the commotion was about.

  “Erm,” Theo said, “I was sleeping is all.”

  The sailor grunted, “Well, you picked the wrong ship to sleep on.”

  The skinny sailor grunted in agreement.

  “Well, I’ll be going now,” Theo said. He made to stand up but got only as far as kneeling when the large sailor spoke again, “Whoa, whoa, you ain’t goin’ nowhere ‘fore we have a look at what’s in your pockets.”

  “Well, hold on and let me at least stand up to make it easier for you,” Theo said as he stood, dusting his cloak off.

  “There, there. Alright, so this is your ship you say? Where are you headed?” he smiled, trying to change the subject.

  The sailor frowned, “Turn out your pockets.”

  “I can’t.”

  “An’ why not?”

  “Because, I have something in my pocket that you aren’t supposed to look at.”

  Without warning the large sailor rushed at Theo and grabbed him with his meaty hands. The gangly man knew what to do — he rifled through Theo’s cloak.

  “Get off me!” Theo yelled and struggled against his captors, but it was no use in the clutches of the huge man. He contained Theo’s struggling with seemingly no effort.

  “Ha!” the skinny sailor shrieked and his thin mustache twitched as he yanked the letter from Theo’s cloak.

  “Stop!” Theo yelled as loud as he could, causing the men to halt in surprise. “You mustn't read it!”

  “Give it ‘ere Al,” the tattooed sailor said to the skinny one. Al passed him the letter dutifully and licked the sweat off of his mustache.

  “Please,” Theo said. “You don’t know what you’re doing!”

  “I’ll do as I damn well please—” but the sailor stopped when he flipped the letter over. His eyes froze on the serpent seal.

  The man looked up, concerned. “I’ve seen this symbol before,” he said.

  Al turned and spoke to the tattooed sailor, “What is it, Jon?”

  He showed Al the seal, at which he gasped.

  Jon looked murderous, “You had better start explainin’ yerself, kid, and quick,” he said as he pulled out a dagger. Al mirrored him and pulled out a short, rusty one from his waistband. Theo looked around at the large, empty deck of the ship. He was a good twenty paces from the gangway and had no easy escape.

  “Ok, ok,” Theo said calmly, “The truth is that I don’t know what that letter says,” the sun was blazing through the sticky ocean air and Theo was starting to feel beads of sweat form on his brow.

  “How is it that yer carryin’ this letter and ye don’t know what it says?” Jon asked. “Where’d ye get it?” he demanded.

  “I was told not to read it by my employer, and I can’t tell you where I got it,” Theo responded unhelpfully.

  “Yer employer?”

  Theo paused and glanced again at the daggers pointed in his direction. Then, he stared right into Jon’s eyes, “The Thieves Guild.”

  Both daggers lowered a bit and Jon and Al looked cautiously at each other.

  “The Thieves Guild…” Jon said, chewing over each word, “Yer meanin’ to say that ye stole this letter?” his face contorted up as he asked. Seagulls squawked overhead between the silence of the men.

  Theo made to casually sit down on a barrel next to him, but Al flinched and firmed his grip on the handle of the dagger, brandishing it menacingly.

  Theo looked into Al’s sunken eyes as he slowly sat on the barrel, “I’m just going to sit—” and he put his hands where the men could see them, “—see,” he continued in the calming manner, “nothing to worry about. Let’s just chat.”

  The men still did not lower their daggers.

  “I’m not in the mood to chat. Jus’ answer my questions. Did ye steal it?” Jon said.

  “Yes, I stole it,” Theo said without hesitation.

  “Why shouldn’t I read this?” Jon said, holding up the letter.

  Theo spoke in a non-threatening voice, but meant every bit to threaten, “Because, if you do, the Guild will be unhappy.”

  Al’s dagger drooped a little.

  “An’ how would they find out? Let’s say I turn you in now.”

  “Do you really think that if you turn me in, to prison, the natural dwelling of thieves, that the Thieves Guild won’t find out?”

  Now Jon’s dagger went a little lower.

  Jon spoke, “Well, I could still read it.”

  “Wrong again,” Theo said, “if you read it, the Guildmasters wouldn’t like that,” Theo patted his hands on his lap. Jon seemed to ponder this for a moment, and Al watched the tattooed Jon now with his own dagger held limply in his hand.

  Theo looked between the two sailors with expectant eyebrows, “So, gentlemen, what will it be?”

  Then Al said, “Jon I think we should—”

  “—fine, take the stupid letter,” Jon said, holding the letter out. But, as Theo stood up and reached out to take it, Jon pulled it back again.

  “Do you know what this seal is, boy?”

  “No, and I don’t care. I learned long ago not to ask questions, especially political ones,” Theo said matter-of-factly and made to grab the letter again, but Jon pulled it again further away.

  “Not to ask questions, yeah?” Jon spat.

  “Yeah,” Theo squinted. “Are you going to give it to me or what?”

  “Tell him, Jon,” Al implored.

  Jon closed his eyes — his eyelids had tattoos of eyes on them — an uncanny look.

  “I’m goin’ to give you this stupid letter, boy. I care about me own skin too much to step in the way of the Thieves Guild, but yer goin’ to listen to me good,” Jon said, opening his real eyes.

  Theo looked patiently into them. The Thieves Guild had long had a reputation of harboring ruthless killers-for-hire, which wasn’t anywhere near accurate. It was, indeed, against the Thieves Guild Code to murder. Yet, this misconception often proved a useful tool in instances where an extra degree of persuasion was required, such as this.

  Jon continued, “I know yer jus’ goin to give this letter to yer employer, no questions asked, but I just got to tell you —” Jon held the letter up again and pointed at the seal, “—that I’ve seen this seal before.”

  “You shouldn’t tell me—”

  “I should, and I will. I think you could be makin’ a big mistake gettin’ yourself involved with these people,” he said, tapping the letter. Al blinked nervously.

  “It isn’t my choice of task to get involved in, Jon,” Theo said.

  “Yeah, but these guys sank ‘em!” Al burst out suddenly.

  “What?” Theo said, confused.

  “Al, jus’ let me finish,” Jon said, eyeing Al with the same look a father might give an interrupting child. “What he’s meanin’ is that we’ve seen this same serpent flag flyin’ on a warship — one that we saw sink another ship while we were sailin’ the northern trade winds outta Key Carig.”

  Theo thought on this for a moment, debating internally whether or not to indulge the tattooed man on his story. He had to admit that his interest was piqued yet again by the mysterious seal. But, he didn’t get a chance to decide before Jon continued his tale anyways.

  “We sailed to the wreckage lookin’ for survivors, but by the time we got there, it were too late. And, the serpent ship were clear outta sight.”

  “Yeah I’ve never seen anything move so fast!” Al said.

  “Mhmm,” Jon said, “And we were about to leave the site of the attack when we spotted a man clingin’ to a piece o’ the hull of his sunken ship.”

  Theo thought back on the letter he had seen in the drawer of the Duke David’s desk. Invasion. Could the Duke have been in correspondence with these aggressors?

  “Who was the man?” Theo asked.

  “We don’ know,” Al said sadly. “He was too injured to speak to us when we pulled him from the sea, and he didn’t last the night. We gave him a proper sea burial.”

  “Were they pirates, you think?” Theo said, feigning concern. He wasn’t concerned about these sailors and their troubles at sea, but he could tell it was important to Jon that he listened to his tale in order to get his letter back.

  “It be doubtful,” Jon said, “If so, ‘twas like nary a pirate ship I’ve ever yet seen. It looked to me like a proper military ship.”

  There was a pause where Theo almost asked about having the letter again, wondering where this story was going, but Jon began again.

  “But the man we found, he was as sure as sure could be a scout.”

  “A scout?” Theo asked. “Like a scout of the Jewel?”

  “Yes.”

  “So?”

  Jon looked angry, “Boy, what is it about me story that is not concerning to you?”

  “I told you,” Theo said, “I don’t get myself involved in the politics of these things!”

  “Fine, then I suppose you’ll have a jolly time of splainin’ why it is that your letter’s ink washed off,” Jon said as he dangled the letter over the edge of the ship.

  “Ok,” Theo said hurriedly, “you are saying that you believe the same people that attacked the Jewel scout ship are also the ones who sent this letter?”

  Jon pulled the letter back, “See, was that so hard?”

  “Can I have the letter now?”

  Jon looked frustrated again and Al’s skinny mustache twitched into a frown.

  “This doesn’t bother you at all, boy?” Jon said.

  “What? That I might be assisting the enemy in taking this letter?” Theo’s voice was raised now. “For all we know, I’m helping the Jewel rather than hurt it!”

  “Where did you steal this?” Jon demanded. Al was looking twitchy and ready to spring into action again, his dagger now clenched in his fist.

  “Listen,” Theo said, “I have already told you too much, and the Guild isn’t going to like what I’ve told you thus far.”Theo detected the two sailors’ aggression subside again, although it was quite obvious Al was battling his body to look more intimidating than his mind would allow.

  “We ain’t afraid of your Guild!” Al yelled a little too loud. Theo cast an anxious glance down the docks to see if anyone that was watching was paying to much attention, but couldn’t see anything besides a few casual onlookers. It wouldn’t be the best situation if Al was loudly throwing around that Theo was a thief. There would surely be guards searching for unusual activity once it was discovered that the letter was missing. Theo should have already been miles out of town at this point in the morning if he hadn’t been held up by the late night arguments of the Duke’s family.

  The Duke’s family… Theo thought back to how they had been so worried about something — something that was putting their whole family at risk… Could it really involve this letter? There was no more time to stick around.

  “Give me my letter,” Theo demanded to Jon, whose frown deepened.

  “Ech,” Jon spat at Theo’s feet, “Way I see it, tisn’t your letter boy. I’m thinkin’ whatever this letter says is worth knowin’, since you apparently have no care in the world what happens to this Duchy, let alone the entire Jewel Kingdom.”

  Theo’s body tensed up. He couldn’t let Jon read the letter.

  “Grab ‘im, Al! Hold ‘I’m down until I’m done.”

  Al made a desperate grab at Theo, but he was too quick. Theo skirted quickly to the side as Al dove into the large barrels behind Theo, getting tangled in a fishing net.

  “Gar!” Al yelled. “Help me, Jon!”

  Jon had nothing else to do besides help Al, as Theo had already disarmed and snatched the letter from Jon’s lumbering hands before he could so much as raise them to defend himself. He looked as though he had been struck by lightning. Al was still grunting and struggling in the fishing net.

  Theo looked pleased with himself as he twirled Jon’s dagger.

  “Wha—” Jon was looking dumbfounded.

  “Now then, gentlemen, I bid you farewell,” Theo said with a bow, but when he looked up at Jon again, he was smirking.

  Before Theo could process what was happening, a man’s voice came from behind, “Ahem,” it said, “turn around nice and slow.”

  Theo turned to see three, frowning Charles Town guards with large swords drawn.

  “Somebody better start explaining why you are causing such a disturbance at our docks,” the guard in front said as he eyed the letter in Theo’s hand.