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Coronation of a King
by Margui
Coronation of a King
A regular visitor to the bathhouse in Scyros, Autolycus was relaxing and vulnerable in a tub full of hot water. The spa was a haven for him, a place to relax from the pressures of his conscripted profession. That was, of course, until someone turned him in. His bounty had just been raised by another fifty dinars, an exceptional amount for the poor merchants in Scyros. He couldn't blame the poor lot. He wasn't sure if he wouldn't turn himself in if the tables were turned.
The thief had already made a reputation for himself. The half dozen wanted posts in three provinces attested to that. Although somewhat of a folk hero in his native village of Scyros, the recent election of a new magistrate was making his life in the small town almost intolerable. The soaring award for his capture made even his staunchest supporters think seriously about turning him in.
Within the past two weeks, he had two close encounters with the magistrate's human hounds. The last was a little too close for comfort.
Autolycus had just put a wet linen cloth on his face and sunk lower in the tub when he heard the guards approaching outside. They were coming up the hall and they were running at breakneck speed.
With barely enough time to jump out of the tub, the thief scrambled into his black leather pants. Bouncing around the room trying valiantly to slip the leather britches over thoroughly wet skin proved difficult at best. Autolycus finally figured out where the skin from pruny fingers goes while lounging in a tub. It went straight to the buttocks. Finally getting the pants up, the thief unfortunately didn't have time to lace the supple leather before the guards burst into the room.
There were three of them, and Autolycus had to find the quickest way to dispatch the lot.
The thief grabbed the wet linen towel he had dropped, and swung it toward the blade of the sword held tightly in the first guard's hand. The wet towel wound around the sword and with one quick pull, the thief had dislodged it. Autolycus then looked up at the low-slung chandelier. Jumping up and grabbing it, he swung himself toward the guard. Quickly building up powerful momentum, he kicked the guard in the midsection, sending him reeling into the others before they barely made it through the door.
In domino effect, all three fell.
"Get off me, you oaf."
"You're stepping on my kidney."
"Get your thumb out of my nose."
"Who taught you how to fight?"
Autolycus quickly grabbed his black leather tunic and haversack. He stepped over the fallen guards as he high tailed it out of Scyros.
He fled east toward an old, partially fortressed town that went by the name of Cibolo. An old town by any standards, Cibolo was practically a ghost town, but had undergone a modest resurgence when several notorious thieves decided to use it as a strong hold. He had heard of the strong hold from a drunken thief who, Autolycus surmised couldn't hold his liquor or his secrets.
Thieves were a suspicious and cliquish lot, not eager to submit new members to their infamous "guild" much less their secret strong hold. The thief's justification for turning to a life of crime was so foreign to the miscreant lot that Autolycus was generally not well liked by other thieves, so he snuck into the walled city in the cover of darkness.
The small town had one inn, with about as many rooms. Autolycus made it to the inn's door just as the old innkeeper was closing up for the night.
"Whoa, old timer. You have a room?"
"It'll cost you," the old man said eyeing the thief suspiciously. "You're not in any trouble, are you? We don't want trouble."
"Hohoho," Autolycus laughed. It was a decidedly fake laugh, the one that the thief reserved only when he was covering the truth. "I'm only a merchant from Scyros, my good man, and certainly not looking for trouble if that is what you think."
"Really? What do you sell?" The man asked raising an eyebrow in interest.
"Um..." Autolycus thought, "...rare coins." he said as he patted his haversack and reminisced of his latest heist.
This seemed to satisfy the innkeeper as he opened the door wider for the thief to enter.
"Hey buddy?" the old man queried as he walked feebly with a cane to the other side of the counter, "If you're not careful, you're gonna let the weasel out," He pointed to the thief's unlaced pants.
"Oh, yeah. Thanks. I was in a hurry." Autolycus said as he laced up his pants.
"A farmer's daughter, eh?" the innkeeper smiled knowingly. "I've heard about you traveling merchant types."
As he was tying off his pants, a piece of parchment nailed to the front desk caught the thief's eye. It was a wanted poster with his particular likeness on it. Actually, it looked a lot less like him than a characterature of him, and they didn't even capture his good side, he mused.
Gripping the edge of the wanted poster, Autolycus let out an exaggerated sneeze, ripping and crumbling the parchment as he went.
"Hades bless you..." the old man expressed, "...name?" .
"Au...uh," Autolycus said thinking it might not be wise to use his real name, even in a thief's domain. He had to think of an alias, and think of one quickly. "Malakis," he answered figuring his dead brother wasn't using it any more and wouldn't mind if Autolycus borrowed it for a day.
The old innkeeper couldn't help but wonder about the poor, downtroddened merchant who spoke with a stutter.
"That'll be seven dinars."
"Seven dinars!" Autolycus exclaimed, "What are you, some kind of thief?"
"Uh huh. Takes one to know one," the old man smiled back.
Autolycus narrowed his eyes as he regarded the innkeeper, then he took the seven dinars out of his money pouch and threw it on the counter.
"Yours is the first room on your right. There's a community washroom at the end of the hall. Knock first. Iggy likes to experiment in there."
"Wonderful," Autolycus answered as he walked up the stairs.
Approaching the landing, the thief heard a loud and caustic boom, as if some warring faction had catapulted a large stone through the side of the inn. Even the floor beneath him shook violently for a moment.
He rushed toward where he presumed the commotion had come. Black smoke bellowed through the cracks in the door of the room just opposite to his. As the door opened a singed and sooted teenager came out. At least Autolycus thought it was a young teen. It was hard to tell with almost every body part covered with either raiment or soot.
The kid's dark hair was cropped shaggily around the head. The crinkled, singed ends a testament as to what had happened.
A thick padded vest, gold in color was evidently designed for protection. It was too thick and bulky to be a fashion statement. The tan nubuck shirt was covered with burns, and the brown leather pants were spotted with soot marks.
The kid's stature was diminutive, and at most came to the thief's shoulders.
The teen let out a weary sigh, sending a puff of soot from abused lungs.
"You must be Iggy?" Autolycus said. He would have held out his hand, but he could see layers of soot on the kid. Besides, he had just had a bath. "I'll be a gentleman and let you use the bath first," Autolycus said magnanimously, as he tried to sidle into his room.
"Don't I know you?" The filthy teen asked auspiciously.
"Never met before, kid," was Autolycus' nervous response.
"But I know you. I know that face."
"Well, you know, I have that kind of face. Dashing and handsome though it may be." Autolycus brushed his hand across his thick, full mustache. "Well, kid, I'd like to stick around but..."
"You're Autolycus!" Iggy expounded, "the greatest thief in Scyros. Prince among thieves...or was that jester," the teen mused, "I have your wanted poster in my room. Will you sign it for me?"
"Um...well...I..." Autolycus stammered feeling somewhat proud and surprised of his exalted position in the eyes of this kid.
Iggy disappeared for a second, only to return again. The kid held up a wanted poster from the thief's first, big armored chariot job. He stole two bags of gold before the guards even suspected they had been hoodwinked. It was perhaps his proudest and saddest moment. The rush he got from stealing the coins no longer became his retribution for his brother's death, it became his new profession.
"This was right after your brother was killed, right?" Iggy asked enthusiastically.
"Yeah, right..." Autolycus frowned. He found a writing scribe shoved into his left hand.
"So who do I make it out to?" Autolycus asked.
"Iggy," the kid beamed. Autolycus scribbled the name and signed the poster with a big A.
"Hey, Iggy? What exactly were you doing in there?" Autolycus asked, his curiosity about the explosion piqued from the beginning.
"Oh. I call it works of fire. It's a sphere that's supposed to be catapulted into the sky and explode in bright, brilliant lights." Iggy's hands went up into the air, animatedly expressing the wonder of the explosion. "I haven't quite perfected it yet."
"No kidding." Autolycus said. "Well, good luck to you."
The thief stepped toward his room and then turned around. "One more thing. Could you just refrain from blowing up the inn while I'm here? I paid seven lousy dinars for this room, and I'd like to get my money's worth out of it."
Iggy watched as the thief ducked into his room.
"Not only is this town a virtual ghost town," Auto said as he threw the haversack onto the bed, "its inhabitants are downright spooky."
As with any inn of its era, even the smallest one had a tavern. Located across from the front desk, Autolycus left his room in the morning and found a comfortable spot by the door and sat down.
A young, petite bar maid slapped down a plate of runny eggs when a burly man Autolycus recognized as a two-bid thief slapped the young woman's behind. A grungy man with Cletus laughed hardily at his unappreciated spank.
Noticing the new customer sitting in a corner observing her intently, the young bar maid walked over.
"You'll have the mutton and eggs," the waitress announced.
"I will?" Autolycus asked.
"You will if you want to eat. That's all we have."
"Then I'll have the mutton and eggs." Autolycus said. He listened to the young woman's voice. It sounded familiar, but he couldn't quite place it. In fact, she looked vaguely familiar, and he hoped she wasn't one of his long, forgotten conquests coming back to haunt him.
Deciding an introduction might be in order, he began "The name's Au...Malakis," he stammered remembering his alias almost before it was too late.
"Nice to meet you, Aumalakis," the woman said, offering special emphasis on his name.
The old innkeeper come up and stood by Autolycus. Autolycus decided he was going to be a gregarious, old busybody and would probably force the young waitress into more serving and less socializing.
"I've seen you've met my granddaughter, Iggy," the old man said.
The thief's eyes grew wide with surprise. "Iggy," he answered, letting the name roll off his tongue. "I must say, you definitely clean up well."
Autolycus was trying not to add how many times he had referred to her as "kid" in the previous night's conversation. "That was some secret you were keeping last night, kiddo."
"Looks like I'm not the only one keeping secrets, Aumalakis."
"Alright. Alright," the thief whispered, "but what do you expect when you're wanted in three provinces?"
"Good point," Iggy said as she sat down across from him. "Planning on staying a while or just passing through?"
Their conversation was interrupted. "Hey Iggy! More ale. We're celebrating, here." Cletus yelled. Iggy waived off the drunken thief as she continued to keep company with Autolycus.
"Stick around," she answered. "Looks like Cletus and his cronies from the safe house have pulled off some big heist last night."
"How do you know?" Autolycus asked.
"They always come in here to drink after they pull off a big job. In a few minutes they'll start bragging about it." Iggy grabbed the thief's hand. "Follow me and you can hear it for yourself. Sometimes it's quite funny. They once stole the Golden Fleece and were boasting endlessly about it. Later they found out it was infested with fleas. Cletus and his creepy friend couldn't get rid of the bloodsuckers for months." She laughed as she led Autolycus up the stairs.
"I always knew Jason of the Argonauts would end up attracting pests. Hey, where are you taking me?" Autolycus asked.
Iggy didn't answer, but distracted the thief with a conversation of her own. "You know, I always wanted to follow in my grandfather's footsteps and become a great thief."
"That crippled, old geezer was a thief?" Autolycus asked as he pointed down the stairs.
"And a very successful one in his heyday. That is, of course, the only reason these thieves allow him to remain in their strong hold."
"So if you wanted to be a thief, what's with fire whiz-bang thingy then?" the thief asked imitating her broad gestures from the night before.
"Works of fire? Oh, that's just a hobby," she answered.
"You have any other hobbies I should know about?"
The two of them stopped outside the inn's lavatory.
"Okay. It's the washroom?" Autolycus questioned.
"I know." Iggy said as she opened the door. "You can hear almost anything from this room if someone is sitting at the table right below us. " She pointed to the ground beneath her.
Autolycus was about to speak, but the tiny woman put her hand over his mouth. The voices of the two thieves traveled up the rafters and into the small room. Autolycus and Iggy listened carefully to their boasting, and listened until the washroom was quiet once again.
Autolycus whispered as they quietly walked out. "I can't believe it. Those petty pilferers have stolen the gilded statue of Hephaestus from his own foundry."
"Yep, and he won't take kindly to them stealing it either."
A flash of light stopped the two's forward momentum.
"You're telling me," Hermes said as he materialized in front of Iggy. "In fact, you could almost see the steam coming out of his ears."
Iggy smiled at the unexpected appearance of the God of Thieves.
"How is your grandfather, Iggy?" Hermes asked.
"Still hanging in there."
"Good. Good. He was one of my most favorite thieves." Then Hermes turned to Autolycus.
"Autolycus..." he said with an air of disappointment in his voice, "I'm still seeing those wanted posters all over Scyros."
"Yeah, yeah. I'm working on it." he answered perturbed.
"Well, it's going to have to wait." Hermes answered back. "You're going to do a job for me,"
"I am?"
"Yes, you are. I need a thief, and right now, you're the only one I've got. As you know Hephaestus was not too happy about his statue being stolen. And since it was some of my followers that took it, he expects me to get it back. Besides, I owe him a favor...big time."
"Whoa," Autolycus said grasping what the God of Thieves was asking of him, "And when did this become my problem?" .
"Well, I can't very well steal the statue back myself, can I?"
"Why not? You've got those fancy, schmancy winged sandals. Why can't you just whiz in, grab the bust and zoom out?"
Hermes laughed. "And as a prepubescent kid that's exactly what I did, quite often at Hestia's temple, but you know I can't enter a mortal's home without being invited."
"So why are you here then?" Autolycus asked.
"He's the God of Thieves," Iggy answered sheepishly. "We keep an open invitation for Hermes."
The haughty smirk on Hermes' face was enough to make the thief puke.
"Tell me Hermes, what kind of God are you again?" the thief asked facetiously, his voice rising in timber and vexation with each subsequent word, "I'll tell you. You're the God of Thieves. Sneak in there for pity sake! "
Hermes shook his head no, and Autolycus responded by throwing up his hands in defeat.
"And you, Autolycus, will be the King of Thieves if you pull this off. But...if you don't, you'll just be dead. Gotta rush," Hermes concluded eagerly before the thief could object again.
With that said, he disappeared as quickly as he had arrived.
"Boy, he doesn't take no for an answer, does he?" Iggy said.
"Tartarus, he didn't even wait for an answer."
She laughed at the frustration in his voice, "You can do this, Autolycus. I know you can." Iggy stated with conviction.
"Where would those two nincompoops even keep this statue?" he mused to himself as he rubbed his goatee in thought.
"Probably in their trophy room," Iggy answered. Then she remembered a memento she had collected ions ago. "Wait! I can show you."
Iggy grabbed his hand again and led a reluctant Autolycus to her room. As she opened the door and drug him in, Autolycus could see that Iggy had a severely demented problem. The thick, white walls of the bedroom were covered with wanted posters, many of them signed by the thieves themselves. The mean and frightening faces of the vile and contemptible thieves were staring back at him from all four walls. Their eyes seemed to follow the thief as he followed Iggy to her nightstand.
Iggy's nightstand was covered with several rolled parchments, sooted and scorched from the night before. She began rifling through them one by one, "I know it's here somewhere," she complained. Finally locating it after dumping a set of rusty lock picks on the ground; she brought it to her bed and rolled it out.
The scroll was a hand drawn blueprint of the thieves' stronghold. "Well, I'll be the Mother of all Monsters, where did you get a layout of their strong hold?" Autolycus asked as he bent over the parchment.
Iggy was sprawled on the bed lying on her stomach. She quickly flipped to the second page of the parchment. "The thieves gave me a tour of their stronghold once, when I first came to live with my grandfather. I tried to commit it to memory on this parchment."
Iggy pointed to the middle of the second floor. "Their trophy room," she said.
"What idiots would put their trophy room on the second floor? Second thought, I answered my own question," Autolycus said.
"You've got to admit, it's more easily defensible." Iggy said as she pointed to the stairs and two windows. "This is the only way in and out. And I understand it's guarded at all times. They like to steal from each other," she nodded knowingly.
"No kidding?" Autolycus laughed.
"Hmm," Autolycus thought. He pointed to the front door, "I can take the direct approach and walk in through the front," then he pointed to one of the back windows, "or sneak through the back. Either way, I think I need a distraction. Do you think you can provide one for me?"
Iggy rolled up the parchment. "I think I can! I've got this new works of fire I call 'Greek candles' and another one I like to call a 'cannon cracker', and then there's the 'fizgig', except that started out as a mistake. I can add some whistles and hummers to it..."
"Alright, alright. I get your point." Autolycus said as he tried to stave off her enthusiasm for blowing things up.
Iggy and Autolycus walked out of her room still discussing the plan for retrieving the Hephaestian statue. "But how will I get up to the second floor?"
"My grandfather keeps some old equipment from his purloining days in the barn, do you want to see if there's anything you can use?
The two left the confines of the inn and were heading out back to the small, brown barn. Small was an understatement; it was more the size of a large tool shed than it was a barn. Nothing more than a few spiders and rats could have called it home.
They only walked a few feet when they were stopped by a silver flash of bright light that exploded in front of them.
"I understand from Hermes that you've agreed to get my statue back," the god Hephaestus said as he materialized in front of them.
"Oh yeah, sure. I mean what else could I say." Autolycus said in contempt, remembering how Hermes disappeared before he could say no.
"Then I wish to give you something that might help you in your quest to retrieve it." A shining, new grappling hook materialized in the god's empty palms. "Forged from my own hands," Hephaestus said, "My gift to you."
The thief gently took the grappling hook from the god's hands. Opening the hook up, it caught the light of the midmorning sun and reflected it back to the heavens. Autolycus swung the instrument in a wide circle. The blades of the grapple almost sung as they sliced through the air. It had expert balance; certainly it was a well-honed instrument. A smile crossed the thief's face.
"You are pleased then," Hephaestus said, "Good. Keep it close to you Autolycus. It will become your trademark when you are the King of Thieves." Hephaestus disappeared in another flash of silver light.
"King of Thieves," Autolycus said proudly, "I could get used to that. Can you imagine me as royalty?" He asked closing the grappling hook.
"Nope. Not at all," Iggy teased.
"Hey!"
Although Autolycus could find the contraption useful, the thief also found it cumbersome to hold for any length of time, what with it's heavy construction and extra sharp hooks. To rid himself of the menace as they finished their walk to the barn, Autolycus shoved it into a secret compartment held in his sleeve.
Iggy unlatched the door to the tool shed and pulled it open. The musty smell of raw earth greeted Autolycus. He stood just inside the door as his eyes had to adjust to the dark veil of light after having been outside on a sunny day.
Once they did, the thief found a room full of odd and curious equipment. One in particular caught his attention. Autolycus pulled on the object that was hanging from a nail. It was a harness of pulleys, cords and telescoping silver tubes. Straps in strategic locations suggested it was meant to be worn. The end with the longest telescoping tube had two small silver discs attached with thin wire. A disc caught on the nail as Autolycus pulled at the apparatus. As the telescoping tube expanded, a sharp thin stiletto knife shot out of the silver tubing from the other end.
It startled the thief, but he marveled at such a contraption. "What's this?" he asked Iggy.
"It's called a holdout device. You strap it on...here, here and here, " Iggy said as she pointed to the thief's upper thigh, chest and arm. You wear it between two layers of clothing. It's 'sneak'... here," she said as she pointed to the silver crown that held the knife in place, "is activated when you move your arm and leg just so. Here, let me show you."
Iggy took the holdout device from the thief's hands. She then proceeded to strap it to him with the efficiency of a pro.
"I can see you've strapped men down before," Autolycus said enjoying the double entendre for a moment.
"Uh huh," Iggy answered disinterested. She stopped as she began to latch the strap across the thief's upper thigh, very close to his groin. "It was my grandfather's," she said as she tightly tied it off.
Autolycus groaned.
"Too tight?"
"No. Not at all," Autolycus squeaked.
"It generally takes a series of two movements to activate it," Iggy said as she moved the thief's leg forward about eight inches. In his new stance, Iggy then grabbed his arm and jerked it down and away from his body. The 'sneak' was activated and the stiletto shot out of the silver tubing.
Autolycus smiled at the ingenuity of such a device.
"With some modifications you could use it for your grappling hook." Iggy added.
"Hey, now that's an idea." Autolycus said as he began unlatching the equipment. Placing the holdout on a table he spotted some round parchment spheres. "What are these?" he said grabbing one. The sphere was about the size of the hard round ball that kids often played with. The only difference he could see was a colored cord hanging from an end. "Tag ball anyone?" the thief inquired as he lobbed and caught the round parchment in his hand.
"Don't throw it," Iggy said as she ducked and hid her head with her arms in response.
Autolycus laughed. "You play with explosives and your afraid of a little ball?"
"I'm not afraid of a little ball," Iggy said defiantly, "I'm afraid of a cannon cracker, because that's what you would have been throwing. Very explosive and very volatile."
"It looks harmless enough," Autolycus said studying it. "Are you sure this thing will explode?"
Iggy brazenly took the three-inch sphere from his hands and tossed it through the shed's door. The parchment ball landed hard on the ground and exploded, sending white sparks and small bits of parchment through the air.
"Oh...kay.." Autolycus said as he pulled on his black leather tunic, "... I stand corrected."
Iggy began an animated discussion of the chemistry of her works of fire. "The explosion is caused when a combination of sulfur, saltpeter and charcoal are finely ground, mixed together and then packed tightly into a round ball." Iggy said as she produced three large vials, one with pale yellow rocks, another with white, translucent crystals and one with dark chunks of lignite.
"Why don't I show you. I'll need some more anyway. Left for a long time, they explode at will," she said as she proceeded to show the thief how a cannon cracker was made.
"Sounds like my last date," Autolycus laughed when he remembered how he left her waiting at a tavern to pull off a job.
She took a round spherical form that had already been made and cut it in two. The form was made from parchment and wheat paste glued over a pomegranate. Left drying in the sun, the form hardened, allowing it to be cut away from the drying fruit.
Carefully selecting just the right size of rock and crystal, Iggy dumped the elements into a bowl. She used a mortar and pestle to grind the ingredients into a fine powder. When her arm got tired of the constant grinding, she gave the bowl to Autolycus to complete.
He absently ground the mishmash as he watched Iggy prepare the next step.
"Here comes the fun part," Iggy said full of genuine enthusiasm.
In another bowl, she prepared the binding agent. Once the black powder was sufficiently ground, it would need to be rolled and then cut into small coin sized balls, called stars. The binding agent held the mixture in a lump so that it could be cut.
Sap from a tree, used as a shellacking compound, dampened with a little wine, acted to bind the black mixture together. Several of these stars could fit into the sphere mold, and each star held a separate explosion and burst of white sparks. Finally, Iggy planned on adding small tubes made of silver to the inside of the sphere. The mixture reminded Autolycus of a very dry mud pie, and Iggy was making quite a mess with it.
As the saltpeter produced oxygen inside the sphere, it would mix with the sulfur and charcoal to produce the hot gasses that gave the cannon cracker both the propulsion and the combustion it needed. These same hot gasses would travel through the silver tubing in the sphere causing a whistling sound when the cannon cracker was ignited.
Autolycus helped Iggy stuff the stars into the empty parchment shells. Once the stars were loaded, the hollow spaces were stuffed with the same bits of parchment. Autolycus pulled out one of his lock picks to carefully pack every nook and cranny. Iggy explained that the tighter the packing, the showier the explosion, so Autolycus was exuberant in his lading.
Finally, a cord to ignite the cannon cracker was attached and then the two spheres were matched and taped together with more parchment and wheat glue.
Iggy and her new assistant spent most of the afternoon making several cannon crackers to use as the thief's diversion. As they left the tool shed, both were smirched from the charcoal, parchment and wheat paste.
After having missed both their breakfast and lunch, Autolycus and Iggy were famished, so they immediately headed for the kitchen. Iggy fixed a plate of nut bread, hard cheese and the leftover mutton. Autolycus sat on a bench opposite from the preparation bar waiting for his meal. She returned with two cups of ale and sat the plate down in front of him. Sitting down across from him, she then brought her cup up for a toast.
"To Autolycus," she said. "One day I can say I knew you before you were the King of Thieves, favorite of Hermes, exalted throughout the land. Scourge of..." she hesitated not remembering the name, "you know...the son of Zeus...do gooder...twelve labors..."
"Hercules?" Autolycus queried.
"Yeah. Hercules. Scourge of Hercules..."
"Scourge of Hercules, now your just embarrassing me," Autolycus complained without any real conviction.
"And you know you love every word," she admonished.
"Hey, when it's true, what can I say..." Autolycus shrugged as he lifted his cup, "...To Iggy. Every time I look at her I see fireworks."
"Ah come on," Iggy chastised blushing.
"No really," Autolycus answered, "you've got a little smudge right there," the thief said as he brought his hand up to her face. Cradling her head with his left hand, he used his thumb of his right hand to erase a charcoal mark that crossed her cheekbone under her left eye.
"And you have some dirt right here," Iggy said as she dipped her napkin in her ale and tried to wipe off the remnants of the black powder that seemed to collect on the edge of his jaw line.
Without regards to her singed hair, Iggy was a remarkably striking woman. Her creamy white skin was contrasted by eyes that were large, dark, liquid pools. Her oval face was delicately featured. She was small, but her curves were well defined when she wasn't dressed up for battle with explosives.
"What's your real name, Iggy?" Autolycus asked as he regarded the young woman across from him.
She looked down at the plate of food, loathing her given name and hoping that the thief would not have asked.
"Enigma," she said as she looked back up at him after nervously tearing off a piece of bread.
"Enigma," he laughed. "Well, that suits you, I guess, but I think I like Iggy better."
After a moment of awkward silence between them, Autolycus grabbed a large chuck of cheese and shoved it in his mouth.
"Um, cheesy," he commented trying to rid the room of the uncomfortable silence.
"Yes you are," Iggy laughed, feeling just as distressed in the quietude.
"Yeah, I guess I was. Wasn't I? I'm gonna have to work on that..." Autolycus drawled, "...when I'm King of Thieves."
The serious moment suspended for the time being, the two continued their meal talking about the thief's favorite subject, himself.
Iggy loaded up the small wagon with the cannon crackers, and then stepped inside. She was dressed in her protective, bulky vest and her scorched shirt and pants. Practically giddy with the idea of planning and helping the thief with a robbery, she ran up the stairs and knocked on the door.
The thief opened the door and ushered her in. He was fidgeting. As an autarchic thief, if he decided a job was too risky, he didn't do it. Now he had two gods counting on him to pull off a heist at a thieves' hideout, and he was beginning to wonder if Hermes' words were not prophetic.
"Help me get this contraption on, will you?" he said as he suspended part of the holdout in the air.
"It works better if you just slip the holdout through the arm first and then attach it to the chest and leg," Iggy commented as she strapped the holdout device to his arm. Autolycus had put it on backward.
After buckling the final strap, she ran her hands along the holdout, checking the fitting. Her hands ran up his arm along the apparatus, meandered along his chest and down to his inner thigh, where she gave the device one reassuring tug.
"How's it working for you?" Iggy asked.
"Huh? What?" Autolycus answered, distracted by the butterflies in his stomach. He wondered if they were caused by her groping or the impending theft.
"The holdout? Is it comfortable?" she smiled impishly, "What did you think I meant?"
"Of course I knew what you meant," he argued, "Tell me. How would you feel having a hard shaft pressed up against your inner thigh?"
She looked at him quizzically, tilting her head to one side. She rolled her eyes up, and tapped her chin lightly, as if contemplating whether or not to answer.
"Never mind," he dismissed the question. "It'll take some getting used to, but yeah, I think it's serviceable."
Iggy helped Autolycus into his outer tunic. The heavier coat did a fine job of hiding the holdout device. "Good. I've loaded up the catapult." She said as she grabbed his haversack, "If you're ready, I think we can go."
The two traveled down the stairs, but stopped short of the landing. Two men were in the lobby, registering for the last available room.
"But why here, Iolaus?" the taller man asked the smaller blonde.
"Because," the blonde sighed, "it's the closest inn between Scyros and Corinth and I'm tired, Herc. We've battled two warlords, saved a boy from drowning, delivered a baby lamb, and all that before lunch. Which, by the way I missed, because you had an audience with the queen and the queen mother," Iolaus groused.
"But it's a stronghold for thieves, Iolaus. Isn't that just asking for trouble?"
You know, Herc," Iolaus wasn't listening. "You would think that after all these years, they would change the password. I mean, really, 'Open sesame?'. Any thief could have figured that out."
The inn rarely got visitors, so Iggy was curious about the strangers. Unfortunately, her view was blocked by Autolycus. She tried tiptoeing up over the taller thief's shoulder to get a better look, but he was too tall. Then she tried gently jumping behind him to get a better vantage point. Finally, she decided to squeeze between the thief and the wall.
"Hey! I know him," Iggy exclaimed in a breathless whisper.
"Who? The tall one?" whispered Autolycus.
"No, the other one. Iolaus. I have a magistrate's alert on him from several years back. Seems he was quite the delinquent."
Iggy's grandfather shuffled through some papers looking for the key to the room, "You'll have to share a room," he informed the two.
"Oh really? Your sign says two rooms available. Who's got the other room?" Iolaus asked.
Autolycus gestured wildly from the steps of the stairs. He had heard that the two had come from Scyros, and considering his current trouble there, they were bound to have heard of him. He had hoped Iggy's grandfather would not blow his cover.
The innkeeper looked up and saw the excited arm movements.
"Name's Malakis. A merchant from Scyros, I think," the former thief responded, "guess I should put out the no vacancy sign," he said as he scratched his head. He had never had a full inn before. "That'll be three dinars."
Autolycus heard the quoted price for the room. "Three dinars! Three dinars! Why that miserable, wrinkled thief," Autolycus complained in a whisper, "he charged me seven dinars. What does it take to get a break in this cit..."
Iggy promptly stopped the thief's tirade by grabbing his face and forcing his grumbling lips to hers. She had seen the two men heading up the stairs and like Autolycus, she feared that they would recognize the thief if she didn't think of a distraction, and think of one quickly.
The thief's eyes grew wide with the surprise of the kiss, but soon reveled in the pleasant taste of her tongue in his mouth. His arms twined around the small woman as he backed her into the wall of the stairway. The two strangers walked up the flight of stairs with nothing more than a curious glance at the amorous couple.
Iggy's grandfather walked up behind his granddaughter and the thief. When he watched Iolaus and Hercules turn the corner upstairs, he poked Autolycus with his cane on the side of his rump. "Okay, you can get your hands off my granddaughter now."
With the sting of the cane as a warning, Autolycus did as he was bid and released the capricious woman. He wiped his mouth of the wild, wet kiss.
The innkeeper smiled at his granddaughter. "Go. Do what you need to do for Hermes."
Iggy ran down the rest of the stairs and kissed her grandfather on the cheek. "Thanks, granddad," she said tenderly.
"Yeah, thanks, pop!" Autolycus had to add, getting a severe look of disapproval from Iggy's grandfather.
He watched them leave. "What's with that girl?" the innkeeper asked himself as he limped back toward the front desk. "Always the thieves with her."
Iggy and Autolycus walked out into the evening. The sky was a deep purple, soon to make its way into a still night. It was a perfect night for her works of fire.
The thief threw his haversack into the utility wagon, which would also serve as the catapult later. At least half a dozen cannon crackers were nestled in a bed of parchment, as well as two Falafelometers: timepieces made of wasp waisted glass. The sand inside them traveled from one end of the glass to the other in a definitive timeframe.
Their heist required precision timing. Iggy only had enough cannon crackers for ten minutes, so the thief had to get in and out of the stronghold before the diversion "salt petered" out, as Iggy had plainly phrased it.
Using the flame from one of the two sconces that flanked the door to the inn, Autolycus lit a torch. He grumbled to Iggy that the torch would serve as a beacon in the dark, still night; the flame would give clue to their arrival. Iggy reminded the thief that the torch was a necessity, so Iggy and Autolycus decided to take a more circuitous and safer route to the thieve's refuge.
Iggy would hide just inside the tree line along the edge of the fortress, and lob the ignited cannon crackers into the open field surrounding the old home.
If all went as planned, the works of fire would draw the thieves' attention away from the back and toward the front of their stronghold. Autolycus would then use his new grappling hook to hoist himself up to one of the second story windows, and then into the thieve's den.
Once the statue was nabbed, the inhabitants of the stronghold would be on high alert and a face as recognizable as Autolycus' would certainly be spotted by the hoodwinked thieves. It would not be prudent for him to stay at the inn, nor would it be safe for either Iggy or her grandfather. So, Autolycus loaded up his belongings. He planned to leave the fortress well before the thieves realized their statue was gone.
Iggy pulled the wagon as Autolycus held the torch. Both were strangely silent as they traveled toward the stronghold.
Finally, Autolycus broke the silence.
"You mind telling me what was with that major lip lock in there?" Autolycus asked as he pointed to the direction opposite from where they were heading. He had been thinking of the kiss ever since it had happened.
Iggy had too, although she wasn't about to admit that the impromptu kiss almost made her toes curl. "Oh that?" Iggy answered non-chalantly. "I saw the guys coming up. I thought we needed a distraction."
"So that's all it was? A distraction?" Autolycus said looking off into the darkness. He didn't want his disappointment to show on his face. "Well, that's good," he added, trying to save his wounded pride.
"What? You didn't like it?" Iggy asked abashed.
"No. No. It was nice. It was very, very nice." Autolycus stammered. "I mean, what kind of thief would I be if I didn't appreciate a stolen kiss. It was just a surprise, that's all. I mean, there are other distractions you could have used."
"Maybe," Iggy laughed as she pulled ahead of the thief.
Autolycus just shook his head as he followed her. Iggy truly was an enigma.
They soon approached the thieves' stronghold. "There," Iggy pointed to the grandiose but dilapidated home on the edge of the fortressed city. It was as large in scale as Iggy's drawing depicted.
Autolycus surveyed the home from a distance. Scaling the wall to get to the second story would not be easy. The vertical surface was a good thirty feet tall. But then again, the thief thought, he wasn't even sure the dilapidated structure would survive an assault on its frame.
Autolycus handed Iggy a Falafelometer. It was set to empty in five minutes. "Give me five minutes to get to the back of the house before you start your works of fire." He grabbed the other Falafelometer, set to empty in fifteen minutes. He wove the spindles through his belt as the sand began to run to the bottom of the hourglass. "If I'm not back in fifteen minutes, then you'll know it was the shortest reign in `King of Thieves` history." He handed Iggy the torch.
Iggy nodded and watched Autolycus jog into the darkness. She turned the hourglass upside down so that the sand began to drop to its base, then she began her trek toward the spot where she would release her cannon crackers.
Her forward momentum was stopped when one of the front wheels of the wagon caught onto a large rock.
Iggy pulled on the wagon, trying desperately to get it over the rock. Her effort finally paid off as the wheel rolled over the outcrop in the soil. The contents of the wagon, however, tumbled to one side. It knocked over the hourglass, causing the crystal to shatter. The sand poured out, through the slats in the wagon and then, like a sieve, to the ground.
"Tartarus," she pronounced as she got on her hands and knees and hastily tried to put the sand back into the broken timepiece. As the sand slipped through her fingers, she knew it was a hopeless exercise. "What else could go wrong?" she asked herself realizing she would have to rely on her instincts to tell her when the five minutes were up, and she was a lousy timekeeper. "One golden wonder potato, two golden wonder potatoes, three golden wonder potatoes..." she began intoning as she continued to the designated location.
Autolycus jogged to the back of the house and looked up at the imposing structure. Not having much of an opportunity to practice with his new fangled equipment, Autolycus tried to simulate the movement that would activate the holdout device.
He took a step of approximately eight inches and extended his arm. Nothing.
He took another step and extended his arm. Still nothing. He even tried to look up his sleeve to verify that the grappling hook was still there. It was.
He decided to try one more time. Taking a step forward and extending his arm, he expected the grappling hook to shoot out of the holdout device. When nothing happened the third time, Autolycus became frustrated, "Why this contraption is as worthless as Echidna at a beauty contest," he said as he flung his arm down in disgust. To his surprise, the grappling hook shot out of his sleeve. The quick thief managed to grab the device before it tumbled to the ground.
Swinging the grappling hook in a wide circle, the thief let the hook fly.
Deciding the five minutes was up; Iggy found a favorable spot and picked up the first cannon cracker.
"Well, here goes nothing," she said as she placed the first explosive onto the catapult. Lighting the fuse with the torch, she drew the catapult down and let it go.
The fireworks sailed up into the air and then nothing. It fizzed out with a less than an illustrious pop. "Well that was a dud." she said to herself, hoping that the whole crop of cannon crackers weren't duds. It sometimes happened that way.
She slapped the dud away and loaded the second cannon cracker. She lit the fuse with the torch again, but waited until the fuse was almost spent before she released the catapult. The cannon cracker entered the sky with a resounding whistle. Forty feet into the air, it exploded into sparks of silver. The bang from the initial explosion shook the ground.
Iggy could not contain her excitement. "Woohoo!" she yelled enthusiastically as she jumped up and down, clapping her hands as her cannon cracker exploded above her. "Woohoo!" she expounded again. She was so excited as she watched the explosion; she almost forgot to load the catapult again.
The grappling hook sailed through the air, but Autolycus soon found that the line attached to the grapple was not long enough from his vantage point. The hook fell with a metallic thud in front of the wall and the grapple never even touched the vertical service. Autolycus would have to get closer to the building and would have to release both the grapple and the line with his swing.
Pulling on the line, he gathered the grappling hook in his hand. Swinging it in a wide circle once again, he let the grapple and the line go. The silver apparatus whistled through the sky and landed on the edge of the roofline. Autolycus nodded in approval, then he realized that the line was even shorter than he had expected.
The thief had to jump up in order to grab the grappling line so that he could then scale the wall. He had tried several times before he finally succeeded in his efforts to grab the line.
Halfway up the building, his concentration was marred when an exploding cannon cracker lit up the night sky.
He looked up in amazement at the spectacle. Stars of silver light were raining from the sky. In wonder, he quickly lost his footing.
"Remind me to get that girl a wrist sundial," Autolycus grumbled as he began his trek up the wall once again, "...it's obvious she can't read a Falafelometer."
A second cannon cracker exploded.
Autolycus continued to climb up the building. He stopped right outside the second story window and peered in. Cletus was still dutifully guarding his ill-gotten statue. He was looking directly toward the window, so Autolycus had to quickly swing out of the way to keep from being discovered.
Cletus had evidently heard the second cannon cracker as it went off, because he came directly to the window, opening it. Autolycus hung perfectly still against the wall, cautious of being discovered. He was hanging just inches from the thief as Cletus looked out into the night to discover the source of the noise.
By then, the third cannon cracker had been released and whistled into the air. Cletus hung his head out and caught a glimpse of the bright explosion to the right of the building just opposite from where Autolycus was hiding. He could see it was coming from the front of the building, so he pulled his head inside and turned around.
Iggy's plan was working. She watched as several thieves ran out of the building just like cockroaches when torches were lit. Their exodus brought on a new sense of delight for the pyrotechnician. Her enthusiasm was evident as she renewed her exuberant shouting and bounding and clapping about. She could barely contain her enthusiasm long enough to light the fourth cannon cracker.
Autolycus smiled at his good fortune. Cletus had left the window open. Giving the lumbering thief enough time to leave the room, Autolycus swung his legs toward the opening and scuttled in.
The statue of Hepheustus had a prestigious location in the center of the room. It sat on the top of a pedestal, worthy of its divine status. While surveying the room, Autolycus spotted several mediocre prizes, stolen from some of the more famous kings and queens of the region. He saw several scepters and royal gems; jewel encrusted knives and goblets, but nothing quite as large or as illustrious as the Hephaestian statue.
The fourth cannon cracker exploded outside.
Autolycus stood alone in the room with all the shining loot and he couldn't help himself. He wrestled with his inner demon, the one that always seemed to deny his lust for stealing, but it never won. Before he knew it, he went around to each of the tables and picked out the most valuable and brightest jewel there. He stuffed them in his shirt, in his pants, and anywhere else there was a secret compartment. Only then did he turn his attention to the Hephaestian statue.
Autolycus stood in front of the statue. About twelve inches high, it was a beauty to behold. It was made from a solid piece of gold. The carving was detailed and intricate, and the thief could almost see the burn like scars on the handsome god's face. Each muscle was expertly sculpted; strong and powerful, and the gold was polished to an almost blinding finish.
He thought briefly about possessing the statue for himself, and not returning it to its rightful owner, but then the words of Hermes echoed in his mind, "And since it was some of my followers that took it, he expects me to get it back...And you, Autolycus, will be the King of Thieves if you pull this off. But...if you don't, you'll just be dead."
Autolycus shuddered at the thought. He really liked the idea of being the King of Thieves and the status that must surely come with it. The risk of taking the statue was not worth the reward of being crowned King of Thieves. He rubbed his hands together in delightful anticipation and then nabbed the golden artifact. The thief knew he had to quickly secure the purloined statue and leave the trophy room before one of the cutthroat thieves returned.
Securing the golden trinket to his waist belt, Autolycus turned to exit, but then stopped. The thief who had been so diligent in guarding the statue must surely have stolen Hermes' sandals too, because there he was standing in front of the thief. Autolycus couldn't believe it. He looked down expecting to find the God's sandals and evidence that Hermes had betrayed him.
Indeed, Cletus was wearing wing tipped boots, but not any pair that belonged to the God of Thieves. Autolycus had heard that a wing tipped shoe style was the new fashion craze in the big city of Athens and Cletus must have decided to adopt the new look.
"What are you doing here?" Cletus asked in a threatening tone.
"Oh me? I just happened to drop in," Autolycus began meekly, "I heard you had quiet a collection of um....collectables."
"Yeah, well we don't give away samples. Give me that," Cletus said as he pointed to the statue securely fastened to the thief's waist.
The atmosphere in the trophy room was deathly quiet as Autolycus quickly recognized that the cannon crackers were no longer offering him the diversion he most definitely needed and Cletus expected the darker thief to hand over his ill gotten bauble. He thought about his predicament. Right now, he only had one thief he had to dispatch. If he waited much longer, he feared he'd have half a dozen or more. The thief didn't like those odds.
Although a capable fighter, Autolycus always preferred the stealth and secrecy that went along with thievery rather than the brute force of other purloining efforts such as marauding and piracy. Besides, cutthroat thievery was a nasty business, and would very likely mess up his good looks.
"You mean goldilocks here? I don't think so," Autolycus said as he pulled the golden statue out from behind his belt. In one swift move he beamed Cletus in the jaw with it.
Cletus' head violently snapped to one side, but his eyes quickly returned to the front to stare down Autolycus. Autolycus could see a wicked smile cross the thief's face, then a sinister laugh followed. The blow didn't even seem to faze him and he should have been knocked out cold. Autolycus gave a weak smile and his instinct was to run, but instead, he completed the assault by bringing his poised weapon back across the thief's jaw once again.
The brute just stood there, then a vacant look crossed his face and his eyes rolled back in his head. That very second, Cletus began to fall forward. Autolycus had to sidestep out of the way to avoid the unconscious thief.
He looked at the statue, smiled with a sigh of relief and gave it a hasty kiss before tucking it back in his waist belt. Fastening the gilded statue to his waist, he felt a stabbing, stinging sensation on his neck. He rubbed the painful spot and then turned around to find the source of the pain. He was rewarded by another stinging pain. This one, on the top of his head. He squinted in discomfort as the pebble that hit him fell to the floor.
"What the..." he said as he walked to the window and peered down.
Iggy was about to throw another stone to get the thief's attention.
"You're about to have company," Iggy yelled up. "Toss me the statue."
Autolycus pulled his head back into the room and debated whether or not to give Iggy the statue. Then he heard the angry footsteps of several thieves coming up the steps. Autolycus decided he might have a better chance of living if he wasn't found holding the stolen object d'art. He pulled the statue from his belt and tossed it out the window toward Iggy.
She adeptly caught the statue and then threw an object up to him in return. "Here, catch this," she added. Autolycus instinctively caught the object thrown at him and then realized, too late, it was a lit cannon cracker.
He stared in disbelief at the explosive. "Why you little two timing thief," Autolycus complained as he peered out the window to see Iggy escaping into the woods with his stolen prize. He had wished he had time to consider the turn of events, but as he shifted around, a throng of thieves burst into the room.
"Uh...huh...huh," Autolycus said as he wagged a finger at the intruding men. "I have an explosive cannon cracker here and it's set to go off....uh....any second now," he declared as he looked at the fuse and started backing toward the window. He was still intent on exiting the room and getting his prize back. Then the thief lit on an idea.
"Catch!" Autolycus said as he tossed the spherical explosive toward the thieves. Not taking the time to watch the bunch play "hot potato" with the explosive, he quickly climbed onto the ledge of the window. Taking what amounted to a leap of faith, he flung himself toward the grappling line hanging to the side. Grabbing the line, he quickly scaled down the wall.
"Grab it you idiot."
"No. It's yours. You're the leader."
"I abdicate. Here you take it."
"Hey, it's not mine. I`m just the cook."
He knew the works of fire would very soon explode, either because it had run out of fuse or because one of the bumbling thieves had dropped it.
Once firmly on the ground, the thief quickly disengaged his grappling hook from the edge of the roof and looked for Iggy as he rolled up the line.
"Why that two timing, double crossing, little, `I want to become a great thief,' thief." He spotted her in the shadows of the trees and sprinted toward her. "Well not today, sister. And not with my prized statue."
She disappeared into the woods before Autolycus could catch up with her, and he feared the Hephaestian statue was gone for good. Standing in the woods, at the last place he had seen her, he turned in a full circle trying to spot which direction she went.
"Catch," Iggy said as she tossed Autolycus the statue and then jumped out of a tree.
He caught the statue as it almost fell in his arms. Autolycus looked at his prized treasure, knowing that in a few moments he would have to give it up.
He laughed mirthfully, and then looked toward Iggy. "I thought for sure you had gone with it."
"Would I have done that to the King of Thieves?" Iggy asked blushing. She had thought about it.
"As the granddaughter of a great thief, you bet your sweet bippy I thought you would. I would have," Autolycus admitted.
"Guess that's why you're the thief and I'm not."
Autolycus decided to change the subject and chastise Iggy for a moment. "What in Tartarus happened back there? You're job was to stall them, if you remember correctly."
"Hey! I did my best," she bristled, "Thieves are not that easy to distract. Maybe if I were stark naked and only wearing a golden tiara, I'd have a better chance of distracting them. I don't know. The guys were coming out just as we expected. Then Cletus showed up. But he didn't stay long. A few moments later, he went back inside."
"He came back upstairs."
"Yeah, that's what I figured. And that's evidently what the rest of the group figured too," she laughed, "Since he stayed only briefly, I imagine they thought that Cletus had orchestrated this little light show to allow him the chance to get away with the statue and who knows what else."
Autolycus smiled weakly remembering his unyielding raid on the tables before he finally nabbed the statue.
"They began piling back into the strong hold before I could set off my next cannon cracker. I ran to the back of the building to try to get your attention."
"Yeah, thanks. But why the cannon cracker."
Iggy laughed again. "You knew what to do with it, didn't you?" she asked rhetorically. "It was a dud anyway. It would have never exploded."
"Yeah, thanks a lot. How was I supposed to know that?"
"You weren't." she laughed wickedly.
A flash of light stopped their conversation.
"Ah, I see you got it." Hermes said as he materialized right in front of the two thieves. "Hephaestus will be pleased."
Hermes tried to take it from Autolycus' hands, but the thief seemed reluctant to relinquish it.
"Can I have it please?" Hermes finally asked, after tugging on the statue proved pointless.
"Oh, yeah." Autolycus said realizing the grip he had on it. "You know it's kind of hard to give it up after all I did to get it for you."
"And I appreciate it, Autolycus. You have proven yourself worthy of the title, `King of Thieves`."
"Yeah, about that," Autolycus said as grabbed Hermes conspiratorially by the shoulders. In a brotherly embrace, Autolycus led him away from Iggy. "So what do I get for this title, `King of Thieves'? Women? A palatial estate in Crete? A generous stipend?"
"Oh, no. Nothing like that. It's just a title, Autolycus. And one you will have to live up to every day. Hey, thanks again. Gotta rush."
Hermes quickly disappeared.
"I hate it when he does that." Autolycus commented as he walked back toward Iggy. She handed him his haversack.
"So you're officially the `King of Thieves` ?" Iggy asked.
"Yeah, I guess so." Autolycus answered scratching his head. He couldn't believe that it was that easy to get. But he absorbed Hermes words with a great deal of attention. If it were so easy for him to gain the exalted title of `King of Thieves', then he would certainly have to work hard to keep it. And it was a title he intended to keep for a long time.
"Oh! Tartarus," Iggy exclaimed as she snapped her fingers in frustration. The two began to walk out of the woods.
"What?" Autolycus asked.
"I forgot to bring something to get your autograph."
Autolycus grabbed her waist and pulled her closer to him as they walked back toward her home. "You already have my autograph, silly" he said.
"Sure, but I got that autograph when you were a nobody. Now, you're the King of Thieves."
"Yeah, Autolycus: The King of Thieves." the thief murmured
Iggy reached down to hold his hand. When she did, she could feel the unmistakable point of a faceted jewel hidden beneath in his tunic. Carefully moving her thumb up to the hem of the sleeve, she felt for the opening to the secret compartment. Finding it, she manipulated her thumb so that she gently pried the compartment open. She let the jewel slip out, and grabbed it before she let go of the thief's hand.
Backing up away from him, she held up the gem. "Last one to reach the inn is a rotten thief," she said before she took off running.
"Why you little pickpocket, come back here with that," Autolycus protested quickly following her.
Their laugh could be heard as it echoed through the darkness of Cibolo.
THE END
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