Out on 4th June 2021, The Silk Thief is the second book in my humorous fantasy Roshaven series. Here is the first chapter for you to read and enjoy.
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Chapter 1
It was Griff’s funeral. Ned Spinks, Roshaven’s Chief Thief-Catcher, watched from his elevated vantage point on the upper part of the shore as the crowd congregated by the water. He scanned the throng for any suspicious behaviour. A cool sea breeze carried some freshness his way, combating the aroma caused when you get lots of individuals gathering in one place. It gave him small comfort to see such a large turnout, his own grief was too raw.
'Yor not on the clock now, Boss,’ Jenni the sprite remarked as she nodded a greeting at the Gingerbread folk. Wary of the water, they stood as far from the damaging liquid as they could without removing themselves from the ceremony.
‘Yeah, well, you know, people,’ muttered Ned.
‘Fourteen’s over there.’
Jenni pointed and they both stared at the elegant Imperial gazebo erected upon the Dead Pier. This was the other reason such a great crowd had assembled, and why the air hummed with animated chatter and gossip. The Emperor of Roshaven had recently revealed she was a woman, and this was her first formal event since that announcement. Unfortunate that it was a state funeral.
‘Mhm.’ Ned’s reply was as nonchalant as he could make it. He hadn’t seen Fourteen since they returned from their quest to save love and defeat the Rose Thief. After their triumphant return to the city, Fourteen had been immediately swept up by her administrators, the High Left and High Right. Every time Ned tried to get in to see her, the Highs cited important imperial duties that couldn’t be disturbed. After several tries, Ned had resolved to leave it for a while. He wasn’t certain if it were the Highs or Fourteen that were keeping him away.
‘Sparkly dress,’ commented Jenni.
Ned knew she was trying to get a response from him and his gaze flicked over again to where Fourteen stood, slightly apart from her retinue. Her short black hair framed her face and her silver gown was shining in the sun.
It relieved him when the opportunity came to change the subject as Momma K, Queen of the Fae, glided past bestowing regal smiles upon individual members of the crowd. Ned noticed he didn’t receive one and Jenni had ignored hers.
‘Things not going smoothly at home?’ Ned inquired. Jenni was the eldest of Momma K’s children, but she stayed with him in the city more often than not.
‘S’complicated.’ She was looking over at people on the pier again. ‘Who’s that talking to Norris?’
Ned decided not to push it, families were complicated, and his was no exception. Despite himself, he glanced over again at the dignitaries assembled on the pier. Fourteen was busy greeting some bureaucrat or other. There were representatives from all of Roshaven’s trade partners and a few cities they had not yet connected with. He could make out Fat Norris, otherwise known as the Lower Circle, whose responsibility it was to maintain existing trade agreements and keep them running smoothly while working on establishing new ones. He was talking to a familiar-looking man, dressed in blue. Ned squinted and then stiffened.
‘It’s Theo.’
‘Wot, yor bruvver? Wot the ‘ell is ‘e doing ‘ere? Murderous scumbag!’ Jenni took a couple of steps in the direction of the Dead Pier before Ned stopped her.
‘Not now. He’s probably here as a trading partner. I don’t like it any more than you do, but we’ve got a job to do. We can find out what Theo’s up to later.’ Ned tried very pointedly not to look at the people on the pier.
They had been escaping from Theo’s clutches in Fidelia when Griff had helped them get away. That help had cost Griff his life. Both Ned and Jenni blamed Theo despite the fact the actual murderer was probably one of Theo’s henchmen. When Ned had tried to find out using his official catcher authority, he’d been told that Fidelia had dealt with and executed the individual involved. Ned wasn’t sure he believed it but he couldn’t put his own city at risk, rocking the boat. Especially when Fourteen had just revealed her gender. She was the first official female Emperor. The slow wheels of progress, hampered by the brakes of tradition had not yet sanctioned the use of Empress.
Centuries ago, Roshaven had been the epicentre of a vast empire that spanned from coast to coast. It was that imperial lineage that Fourteen’s forebears had clung to, downsizing yet keeping their Imperial Palace and fighting tooth and nail to keep their crucial trading position on the coastline of Efrana. Now Roshaven was a bustling commerce city. It might not be a centre of industry, but it facilitated the shipping of both essential and luxury items up and down the coast, in particular the fine silks that were coveted throughout Efrana. It also provided the perfect location for trading vessels to restock their supplies and gain additional crew. Many of Roshaven’s trade agreements had been meticulously negotiated and arm-twisted into place by Griff. Ned hadn’t known that about his friend before he died, but it was the reason he was being honoured with a state funeral.
Ned winced. He had been trying not to think too much about the circumstances of Griff’s death.
‘It weren’t yor fault, Boss.’
‘Stay out of my head, Jenni.’
‘I ain’t reading yor fawts, I can’t do that. It’s plastered all over yor face.’
Ned sniffed and blinked. Damn sand was in his eye.
‘If it wasn’t my fault, then whose was it?’
Jenni hawked and spat.
‘I can’t ignore that Theo is my brother, no matter how much I want to. And if I don’t take responsibility for his actions, who will? I cannot call myself innocent of any wrongdoing. It was my idea to appeal to Griff for help when we needed it on our quest. And it cost him. It cost him everything.’
‘Family ain’t blood,’ replied Jenni.
‘No, but he is my brother, and it’s a debt I will never clear.’ Ned stopped speaking as the funeral rites commenced.
Pristine white wrappings concealed Griff’s body, and it lay upon a stack of firewood. There were blossoms and offerings of food pushed in-between the sticks and branches. Various runic symbols of protection and safe travels had been painted in gold around the decoratively carved canoe that held the pyre. Fourteen placed a single red rose on the torso and bowed her head in respect. She stepped backwards and the many and various priests of Roshaven chanted a simple farewell prayer, each of them dedicating it to their own deity as well as chiming numerous bells.
Ned shivered as the chanting and chimes made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.
Several druids came forward to push the canoe into the water. Ned spotted Kendra, the High-Priestess among them. Their druidic incantation danced across the breeze, and he heard snatches of their melodic prayers. A sudden swirl forced them to hasten back, allowing the canoe to be taken by a gossip of mermaids. Pearl’s distinctive golden blond head bobbed above the water and Ned half-smiled to himself.
The harpies were next. They flew over the aquatic procession, scattering petals—a tender side to them Ned would never have expected. Fred, the young palace guard, led the Imperial Band in a farewell fanfare and Momma K sent a magnificent shower of silver stars shooting out across the harbour.
Ned took a deep breath. It was his turn now.
Dipping a pitch-tipped arrow into the bowl of flames nearby, it lit with a whoosh and, taking another steadying breath, he nocked and drew, mindful not to singe himself. He could sense all eyes on him with the heavy pressure of expectation, and his arms began quivering. Focusing on the body and canoe below, Ned shakily exhaled and released his flaming arrow. The crowd watched mesmerised as it arced high over the water before landing. The pyre had been doused with scented oils both to mask the stench of rotten flesh and also to serve as an accelerant.
For a long moment, nothing happened and Ned half stretched out his hand to pick up a second arrow, but then the fire took and ran hungrily over the body. There was a collective stillness on the shore. Then the crowd began stirring, returning to their lives. Ned remained standing, watching the flames devour his friend as the canoe drifted further and further out to sea, his thoughts bleak.
‘It was a grand send-off,’ said a gentle voice behind him.
Ned flinched in surprise as the spicy, warm perfume of Fourteen wafted to his nose. He had not expected to speak to her today.
‘Are you allowed to be here?’ The question came out harsher than he meant it to.
‘I wanted to see you. Before this, I mean. But there were so many pressing matters to attend to…’ She glanced back at her entourage before trailing off into silence.
Ned could tell Fourteen was attempting to reach out to him, to reconnect, but the fact that the Highs and other officials were so close meant she had to maintain her imperial persona. A quick check confirmed Theo was not among the retinue. He scuffed the ground with his smart boots, not caring if he dulled the patent leather. He could hear Fourteen breathing beside him, but for the life of him, he couldn’t think of anything to say that wouldn’t come out snippy. And he didn’t want to be like that. Not with her.
‘Have you ever fired a funeral pyre before?’ asked the Emperor.
‘No, Your Eminence, I haven’t.’
‘You did a superb job, I’m very impressed.’
Ned turned to look at his Emperor but misjudged his footing and knocked over the fire bowl. He and Jenni spent several tense moments frantically stamping out the flames. Somewhat out of breath, Ned attempted to reclaim his cool.
‘Perhaps I could visit soon. If you think it would be possible?’ He smiled to soften the words. He wasn’t trying to be argumentative, and he did want to spend some time with her.
A High cleared his throat and cast his eyes meaningfully towards the imperial coach that was waiting to take Fourteen back to the palace.
Fourteen didn’t reply, but she touched one of Ned’s hands briefly before returning to her retinue.
‘That went well,’ he murmured.
‘It weren’t that bad. At least she came and said allo. S’more than you’ve ‘ad in a while,’ Jenni said as she gathered up the bow, spare arrows and the now-empty fire bowl which she handed to Ned. ‘It takes two to wotsit but you gotta keep trying I reckon.’
Ned threw her a half-smile as they headed back into the city together.
‘Thanks. Oh, and thanks for the assist by the way.’
‘For wot?’
‘The flaming arrow?’
‘Nah, Boss. That weren’t me and it weren’t Momma K neiver. All youse.’
Ned tucked his chin in, trying to suppress a grin. He’d done it, he’d given his friend the tribute he deserved. He waved a hand over the virtually empty shoreline they were leaving.
‘You don’t think all this was too much?’
‘For Griff?’ Jenni scoffed. ‘E would’ve wanted more, more, more, I reckon. You knew ‘im better than me, wot do you fink?’
‘I think you’re right. He would have wanted a bit more, more, more.’ They strolled on in silence for a few beats. ‘Good turnout though, wasn’t it?’
‘Not bad. Wot we gonna do about Theo then?’
‘We’ll keep our eyes open, check out anything suspicious that we hear of. Hopefully, he’s already on his way out of Roshaven.’ Ned hoped his brother wasn’t planning to hang around.
‘We ain’t gonna arrest him?’
‘Not today, Jenni. He hasn’t committed a crime in Roshaven. Yet.’
‘Hmm, if you say so, Boss. I reckon we could arrest ‘im for summink if we looked ‘ard enough.’
‘You’re probably right.’ They had reached a crossroads. One way led to The Noose, Thief-Catcher HQ and disreputable tavern, the other towards Ned’s home.
‘Not going to the wake, Boss?’ asked Jenni as Ned took a step away from The Noose.
‘You can if you like. I’m gonna call it a day. Not been sleeping well.’
‘Rightyoucha Boss.’
‘Here, take this back to the office first with that other stuff.’ Ned handed Jenni the fire bowl to go with the bow and arrows she was carrying. They kept their thief-catcher weaponry locked up at HQ.
‘Awright Boss. Sees you later.’ With half a wave Jenni peeled off, heading for The Noose and what would be a raucous wake.
Ned trudged on home, hoping that his nightmare would let him sleep tonight.
*****
Get your copy of The Silk Thief here.
Claire Buss is a multi-genre author and poet, completely addicted to cake. Find out more about her books on her website clairebuss.co.uk. Join the discussion in her Facebook group Buss's Book Stop. Never miss out on future posts by following me.
