Ralan considered how to present the news. It was possibly the most important message he would ever speak in his life. The ten men and women in the room were a subset of the families of those dislocated from the Lower Quarter, but they were all influential. As they went, the guild would go.

He needed to somehow let the guild members know that Keres was apologizing for Larsen’s folly and welcoming back the Harvest Guild, while making sure that they did not believe him or return.

It was an unfortunate position to be in. On the one hand, he was going to push for civil war when peace was at hand. He never wanted nor expected to be the one to push for that route. But on the other hand, the Thieves Guild was exposed, and if the Harvest Guild embraced peace, the entire city would unite to eradicate the Thieves. Despite their kindness to the Harvest Guild, he was certain that Saxe and Orion, as well as Keres and possibly even Polo, would push for their removal as a newly discovered threat.

The deciding factor for Ralan was the obvious reality: Orion was a real threat, and by establishing his nephew as the Guildmaster Merchant, he was creating some kind of maneuver to remove Ralan or Polo, opening a vote that would usher in Orion as the undisputed leader of Ness.

He cleared his throat. “My new friends, the newly established Guildmaster Merchant has offered your homes back. He apologizes for what his predecessor has done, and promises to rebuild the Lower Quarter.”

Blunt. To the point. Start with the edifice and then remove its foundation.

Murmurs that turned into smiles and happy discussion followed his announcement. Ralan waited, and then the moment came. A new voice from a small and older woman spoke up, “We can return home! Thank the gods for Orion and his nephew!”

Before the chorus of agreement could come, Ralan broke in. “Are we so certain?” His voice was strong and the question came out as a challenge, more than an inquiry.

“What do you mean?” the woman replied, her voice already shrinking.

“Orion sat back when you were forcibly removed from your homes. Is that the behavior of someone trustworthy?” Ralan changed the tone of his voice to thoughtful. He had never considered himself a born leader. He was the mischievous boy who was placed in a position of authority due to a wayward punishment. But at that moment, all his words, the tone of his voice, the way he guided the conversation, came naturally and with the precision of a stiletto.

“Orion is simple-minded. Everyone knows that.” Another voice. A new one. “He is jolly.”

“The same was said of Pietro. A harmless old man, universally beloved by everyone. Yet you sit in his stronghold, surrounded by knights in black. And, just so, do you see any of those wearing the yellow sitting next to you? If Orion stood out of the way due to his simple-mindedness, why did his guild members not help you? They were your neighbors. They stood idly by, and they were protected.”

There were murmurs around the room. “Indeed, it is clear that the command to not help their Harvest Guild brothers and sisters came from Orion himself.”

“Why would Orion do such a thing?” Simpson said. Ralan looked at him, and he could see that Simpson was desperately latching on to Orion as his salvation. The idea of the Thieves providing assistance was too much.

“Remember what occurred at the Guildmaster Banquet. Two people voted to stop the merger of the Harvest and Craft guilds—your guildmaster.” Ralan paused. “And me.” More murmurs. “Why would Guildmaster Orion and Guildmaster Polo be on opposite sides of something so momentous?”

Simpson, still looking suspicious, replied, “But things may be different with this Keres fellow.”

“True.” Ralan paused, as the various family matriarchs and patriarchs looked at each, a few sharing whispered comments. “Yet things may be the same. We cannot be certain.” Ralan latched onto Simpson’s uncertainty and brought his argument home. “You may be safe. You may not be. Perhaps it would be best if you waited for guidance from your Guildmaster?”

It was Ralan’s only hope. He was convinced that Polo would know what was going on and would object to anything offered by Orion or his nephew. Yet it would be impossible to get a word from Polo while he hid in Harvest House. That wasn’t a problem, however. As Polo’s own hesitation to move in the public would further raise suspicions among the Harvest Guild members as to Orion’s and Keres’ intentions. All Ralan had to do was have the families agree to wait for word from Polo, and he would have the time necessary to assess things, with reports from Alard, Vesper, Rogers, the other Captains, and possibly even Maela.

“I will travel to Harvest House and inquire with Guildmaster Polo myself.” Simpson, the old man who had proven to be the most inclined to doubt Ralan, was now calling his bluff.

“I fear that would be impossible,” Ralan replied. “You would be unsafe with the chaos in the streets and the Merchants guarding the Bridge and the Lower Quarter.”

“We have been invited back. I will go alone as a representative of our guild members in the Wretched Quarter. I will meet with Guildmaster Orion and Keres and tell them that we will do nothing without Polo’s guidance.”

Three thoughts went through Ralan’s head. The first was that he was positive that neither Orion nor Keres had anticipated such a scenario. The second was that there was no way they would allow one of the refugees to meet with Polo. The third was that Simpson had just volunteered for his own imprisonment or even death.

“It is a wise decision if you believe that Orion and Keres are acting in good faith,” Ralan replied. “But if you are wrong and they have no intention of goodwill for Guildmaster Polo, they will see you as a threat, and your life will be jeopardy.”

“Why a threat” It was the woman who shared his surname, Carol.

“There can only be one reason for letting you return to the Lower Quarter if Orion and Keres have false intentions—to draw out Guildmaster Polo. If Guildmaster Polo believes them, they will imprison or kill him. If he does not, they will use his disregard for your well-being as an excuse to replace him.”

“We would never question, Polo!” someone shouted, and a chorus of agreement followed.

“But does Guildmaster Orion or the new Guildmaster Merchant know that?”

There was no reply.

“It matters not,” Simpson replied. “If I do not return, I am a message that Guildmaster Orion is not to be trusted. If I return, we will know it is safe.” Simpson laid his hands flat on the table. “Either way, the message will be delivered.”

Ralan admired Simpson’s courage. “You are not to be dissuaded?”

“No.”

Turning to the room, Ralan spoke out. “Do you all agree that Simpson will be your guidepost, and until we hear word of his completed mission you shall remain our guests, safe with the Thieves?”

There was still a hesitation in admitting to being guests of the Thieves, but everyone either stated agreement or murmured it.

“Very well, I will leave you to your own counsel. If you need anything, you can send word to Captain Coode.” Ralan stood up, followed quickly by Coode and Dirk. They exited the room, leaving behind loud discussion.

As they walked down the steps of the building, Coode whispered to Ralan. “That was a master stroke, sir. They will remain calm and await a message that will undoubtedly never be delivered.”

Ralan frowned. “I would have preferred not sacrificing one of our guests to achieve the goal. Who do we have in the Lower Quarter?”

“Rogers and Maas, sir.”

“Rogers is still missing. Send word to Maas, and have him shadow Simpson. If we have ways to watch him in the Towers and, more importantly, rescue him, I want it done.”

“Coode nodded. “I will send word to Maas. Simpson’s safety will be of paramount importance.”

Ralan was still too new to know the extent of the Thieves network and how far into the Merchant and Craft Tower that they had infiltrated, but he hoped that Coode was right.

He didn’t want to see Simpson imprisoned, hurt, or killed, but he also knew a very simple truth: A rescued Simpson was the most important Simpson of all.