‘You did what?’

Lantha’s tone was disbelieving. Robin didn’t know what the problem was. He’d improved upon the plan, if anything!

‘I recruited a few of Dahn’s folk to help with the job,’ he repeated.

‘But there is no job. It’s a fake job. What if they get caught?’ Ora-Jean butted in. ‘Dahn won’t thank you for going and getting a bunch of his people nicked.’

‘They won’t get nicked!’ Robin protested. ‘And for all they know, they’re providing some cover, is all! I drilled them on the signals and everything! We have to make it look believable, right? We do want the guard to go rushing off to defend the treasury when it looks like it’s a major push for it?’

‘Yes, but—’

Robin didn’t let Lantha finish.

‘But nothing. These folk know what they’re about. I gave them extra supplies to help them escape—out of my own pocket,’ he added, shaking a finger in Grathilde’s face.

‘Fine,’ Lantha said, surrendering, ‘your money, your choice, but—’

‘If it blows up in our faces, it’s my hide as well. Yeah, yeah. I understand the risks.’ Robin flashed Lantha a cheeky grin. ‘I’d say trust me, but I know you wouldn’t even trust your own mother, so I’ll save my breath.’

‘It does let us stay closer to the gate,’ Fiamah observed.

‘If Dahn’s folk can be relied upon,’ Grathilde grumbled.

‘They can be relied upon to want the money and the chance to tweak Basgar’s nose,’ Robin said. ‘That’s a better guarantee than you’ll get from most you’d hire.’

‘Right. Plan.’ Lantha cut through the chatter. ‘Robin is in charge of the distraction. Grathilde coordinates the attack from the southwest, Ora-Jean the one from the southeast, Fiamah will handle the northern side. I’m keeping an eye on the gate and how many guards are posted there.’

‘And if they just shut the gate down during the attack, stop traffic? What then?’ Grathilde asked.

‘Then we go with Plan B.’ Lantha was firm.

‘I hate Plan B,’ Grathilde muttered.

‘I think it’s kind of a fun idea,’ Robin cut in with a grin.

‘You would.’

‘Enough! Focus. We need to coordinate from the town clock. When that bell rings, we go. Bottled holes from the sewers up into the lower levels of the Keep. You’ll be in charge of coordinating a team—’

‘Each of whom have their own agenda,’ Grantilde objected.

‘How else did you expect me to get them on board? Besides, more pain for Basgar and Gis if they succeed!’ Robin wasn’t having any of Grathilde’s naysaying at this point.

‘Get in, cause trouble, get the guard to chase you, then get out and get to the gate. We got it.’ Ora-Jean ran a whetstone alone the blade of her axe.

‘Right.’ Lantha looked at them all. ‘Let’s go! I’ll see you all at the northern gate, gods willing.’

***

It had started out well enough. The teams snuck into the Keep for their bold-as-brass daylight robbery. Honestly, it was a ludicrous plan, but the sheer audacity was certainly going to surprise. And it was guaranteed to provoke a response.

Added benefit? It was such an insane plan that, even if it failed, people would be talking and gossiping about it for days. And then Basgar would be known as the tyrant so inept that the people he was trying to oppress were brave enough to try and rob him in broad daylight.

It was always nice to fit in these little side benefits when one could.

Robin made a mental note to rewrite the lyrics to some of the catchier songs in his memory and spread them around to mock Basgar, Gis, and Urkhan. That would have to wait, however.

Right now, things were going pear-shaped.

None of the guards were being pulled from any of the guardhouses. Those at the Keep were just tying to chase down the invaders on their own. They clearly didn’t feel enough of a threat, even with Robin’s added recruits.

He could forge the orders, but he had no way to personally run them to each of the guardhouses. Could he just trick the northern gatehouse? No. That would make things too obvious and risk Gis or Basgar refocusing their forces exactly where he and the Sisters Sharp didn’t want them.

He’d have to get in there, forge the orders, impersonate the right guard, and send for the reinforcements himself.

Now would be a great time to have some of Grathilde’s powers, Robin reflected, looking down from his rooftop perch. Ah well. Nothing for it but to get the lead out.

Robin quickly pulled out his stash of parchment and ink from his storage ring and used a combination of his proficiencies and his perks to forge some orders. They should hold up to most inspection, particularly if he did his job well enough and instilled the right level of panic in his messengers.

Now, the approach. The uniform was easy enough. Robin willed the change through his [Mask of Disguise]. He kept his face generic, forgettable. People would see the uniform more than the face, anyway. After a moment’s thought, he tore the uniform up a bit, added some artistic scuffs and a bit of blood. As an afterthought, he placed a touch of blood at the corner of his mouth, as well.

A plan had formed in his mind. He’d need to sprint around the Keep to do it but better around the Keep than to each and every gate himself. He mentally checked his map to plot his course and give him the best chance at these forged orders reaching the three gates near-simultaneously.

Robin had decided to make himself look like a messenger, sent for reinforcements. Then, he’d play the part of nearly-beaten-to-death-by-rebels, and impress on some likely target that they needed to take up his vital mission. Deception, plenty of reason for his target not to question him, and a layer of protection in case someone decided to poke at his patsies with divination magics.

He found his first mark easily enough. There was enough chaos that guard squads had gotten broken up in the confusion, and guards had gone off chasing rebels in ones and twos. Robin found a likely-looking young woman and played the wounded messenger for all he was worth.

He was afraid he’d overdone it, but she took the bait.

Then it was a quick dash around the outer wall, and five nail-biting minutes of waiting until he managed to pick out another target, this time a young man. Robin gave a repeat performance to similarly effusive accolades.

One left.

Robin had managed to dispatch messages to both the southwestern and southeastern gatehouses. He was currently lingering near the northern side of the Keep, tucked in an illusion, waiting for a likely prospect to happen by.

A group of three guardsmen rushed past. Too many. He needed a solo—aha!

An older woman in the uniform of a guard staggered into view. There was no one else around. She seemed the best option he was going to get. Robin took it.

He waited until she wasn’t looking before stumbling out of hiding and dramatically staggering over to her.

‘Ambush,’ he gasped. ‘Help!’

The woman immediately grabbed him to hold him up, hold him steady.

So far, so good.

‘They got my unit as well,’ she said. ‘The rebels are everywhere!’

‘Orders,’ Robin gasped. ‘Need…reinforcements from…the northern gate!’

‘What?’ The old woman looked at him suspiciously.

Oh great. Of course he’d find the one guard that Basgar hadn’t crushed all independent thought from. Hopefully his Expression proficiency was up to the acting requirements here.

Robin went with the interpretation that she just didn’t understand. He pulled out the artfully crumpled orders he’d forged earlier and tried to press them into her hand.

‘Take this…to the northern gate. I can’t…go on.’

She only went and bloody opened the thing to read it! What the frak was this? She shouldn’t do that! Ugh. This was because his disguise didn’t outrank her, wasn’t it?

‘Support from the northern gate,’ she muttered, ‘but Coulvis said we could handle this with the troops we had stationed nearby. Why would—’

Because things change! Robin wanted to scream at her. No plan survives contact with the enemy and all that.

She stood there, dithering. Robin forced himself to just hang, drooping and pathetic, from her frame. Maybe he relaxed his body into more of a deadweight than strictly necessary for his ruse, but the woman was irritating him and he couldn’t think of a better way to get back at her.

‘Quickly,’ he tried urging her.

Before she could respond, however, something even worse happened.

Gis appeared.

The priest strode around the corner, flanked by two guards. He was swearing and chanting, waving some kind of censer before him. The smoke curled in unnatural shapes and caused the hackles on the back of Robin’s neck to raise.

‘You!’ Gis snapped at the woman. ‘What’s the problem here?’

‘Ambush, Your Excellency,’ she answered, snapping to attention.

Robin made a show of struggling to pull himself to attention as well. He didn’t allow himself to succeed very well. He just couldn’t bring himself to show that much deference to the cadaverous old man.

‘No, that’s not the problem.’ Gis consulted the smoke. ‘There’s something else here.’

‘Orders, sir,’ Robin took a risk and spoke to Gis. ‘Need reinforcements. Too many rebels. I was taking them but I got ambushed. I can’t run. I was just passing them to her to deliver for me.’ He carefully didn’t say where he wanted her to deliver them.

‘Yes?’ Gis’s attention was still mainly on the smoke. ‘Well, what are you waiting for? There are orders. Carry them out. Go!’

‘Yes, Your Excellency. Right away!’ The woman blanched and bolted.

Robin bit back a smile. Thank you, Gis. Now he just had to make it out of the priest’s presence without being detected and killed.

‘I should…try to get back to the fighting.’ Robin decided putting on a brave face was the fastest way out of this.

‘Good man.’ The guard next to Gis seemed to buy it, at least. ‘Go teach those idiots a lesson!’

Thankfully Gis was so caught up in looking at the smoke pouring from the censer that he didn’t bother to contradict the man.

Robin took it as an order and as his opportunity to nip away. He limped off as fast as his act would allow, breaking into a run only when he was safely out of sight.

Tendrils of the smoke flowed slowly, unnaturally after him.

Before it could near him, Robin was already gone. He’d nipped away from the walls and back to a section of Bordertown where he could find easy roof access and see how well his little ruse had done.

Robin was puffing by the time he’d climbed enough stairs to get a proper vantage point to check the progress of the plan. He squinted, heart hammering in his chest. What if the messages had gone astray? What if something had gone wrong?

But then he saw movement coming from the region of the southwestern gatehouse. Reinforcements! And there! From the southeast!

But the northern gate. That was the real question. Robin looked but didn’t see any movement.

‘Come on, come on,’ he muttered to himself.

Finally, after what seemed like years, his patience was rewarded with a flurry of activity.

‘Yes! Result!’ Robin took a moment to rejoice before hauling himself to his feet and forcing himself to run down the stairs and back through the streets, carefully avoiding those lanes that looked like they were providing thoroughfares for the reinforcements heading towards the treasury.

He had an appointment at the northern gate to keep!