Just between me and you

Vaughn worked out he wasn't getting paid enough while dangling upside down out a window four stories off the ground.

If the guard didn't leave soon, Vaughn would have to spring forth and valiantly cut the man's throat. The system of ropes and pulleys holding him aloft felt like it was trying to cut through his spine.

Not for the first time in his life, Vaughn wished for magical aptitude. He could levitate up to the window, shroud himself with some invisibility spell and pick the Chamberlain's pockets while the man was on the commode.

A fight outside the tavern down the street gave him a moment's distraction. An ogre and a dwarf judging by the shadows.

Eventually the guard slammed the door shut and clanked off down the corridor.

"About bloody time," Vaughn whispered through gritted teeth, as he dragged himself back through the window.

The Chamberlain's room was somewhere between a monk's cell and an alchemist's lab. Shelves, stuffed with leather-bound tombs and tightly wound parchments, covered every wall. A simple cot, perfectly made up, was crammed in one corner and a couple of sad candles struggled to banish the gloom.

A huge oak desk, groaning under the weight of the ledger resting atop it, dominated the rest of the space. Although not what he had been paid to steal, Vaughn pocketed the gold coins balanced on a small set of scales.

Catching sight of various columns and sums scrawled across the page, Vaughn smiled. Numbers were one of the few languages he was fluent in and he knew the book was a complete work of fiction. Moving towards the shelves, he began searching for the real ledger.

Vaughn dropped behind the desk, as something blocked the light seeping in through the base of the door. Angry with himself for not hearing the guard, he almost didn't notice the cool breeze coming from the back of the bottom shelf.

Removing a couple of crumbling tomes, Vaughn reached into the space and his fingers found the wooden panel behind. Once he was sure the guard had moved on, he gently rapped his knuckle against the panel and the hollow echo confirmed his suspicions.

Scanning the books and objects on the shelves, Vaughn searched for the one that didn't belong. A goblin skull, jammed between two faded ledgers, seems an unlikely souvenir for a man who has lived a life of privilege. It was affixed to the wood, but slipping a finger into the vacant eye socket he found a small switch.

Flipping it, the door the shelves are affixed to sagged open. An all-too-familiar stench seeps from the room beyond. Although only partially illuminated, there is enough light for Vaughn to learn that the Chamberlain was hiding more than money.

The decaying remains of a large, overweight man hang from the ceiling. He is naked and has a large festering wound where his heart had been. Vaughn can't tell if it was removed before or after his death. For a moment he considers reaching out and touching it, only for the cloying smell to catch in his throat.

The room holds even more books, and some kind of altar, barely visible in the gloom. The low background hum of magic is enough to convince Vaughn to search inside only as a last resort. Pushing the door into place, he listens for the comforting click of the locking mechanism.

Vaughn studies the floor, following the proportions of the room. Its geometry was wrong, the inside is much smaller than the circumference of the tower. Outside the main door is a circular stair well leading down and the hidden room had no other exits. Running his hands along the exposed surfaces of walls he searches for signs of a split or crack.

Vaughn comes face to face with a painting, the man in it gazing out with contempt. It's worthless as far as he can tell. Taking the portrait down he is disappointed to see nothing but dull stone behind it. While finding a safe would have been a cliche it would have made his night easier.

As Vaughn is about to replace the painting, he spots it. An old trick but a good one, several bricks have been removed and replaced by mirrors, positioned so that anyone looking at the wall would see only brick reflected back. Reaching into the concealed alcove he finds several items. A small box, which contains the very thing he was sent to steal, a dagger thrumming with magic and some kind of blood stained note.

Reading the parts that are still legible, Vaughn discovers another secret the Chamberlain would pay handsomely to keep. He carefully folds the parchment and slips it into his pocket. Before he can return the knife to its hiding place, the door flies open and the Chamberlain storms into his room.

The man slammed the door behind him and began to search the shelves. Vaughn waits for the guard or anyone else brave enough to follow the irate official before stepping out of the shadows.

"Normally I would make my escape after you left the room, but it's not often I get to converse with a man as fascinating as you." Vaughn casually sat on the edge of the desk.

The Chamberlain took a few moments to come to terms the situation, his face moving from surprise to anger. Vaughn used those moments to process the fact that the Chamberlain had the corpse of his doppelganger strung up inside a hidden room.

"Raise the alarm by all means, when they get here we can explain the little mistakes in your 'ledger'." The Chamberlain's eyes briefly darted to the floor beneath his cot, before returning to the book on the table.

"I really wasn't sure if you were just bad with numbers or helping yourself to the town's funds. Thanks for clearing that up for me." Vaughn nodded towards the space beneath the cot.

"How about if I let you scurry back to the sewer you crawled out of with that dagger and the coins you stole from the desk and no one needs to die." The Chamberlain returned to his search.

"The problem is I also have this," Vaughn reveals the small box he took from behind the painting, watching the man's reaction and trying to judge the value of what he had stolen.

"Now that I can't just let you walk out of here with I'm afraid. People would notice it was missing..." The Chamberlain gently pulled on his beard.

"We would need to make it look like some kind of break-in, and you would need to leave the knife I'm afraid." No great loss, Vaughn hated anything to do with magic.

"What's this box actually worth?"

"To most people it's worthless but if you know what it is and what it means...well then it's worth a kingdom."

Vaughn's employers knew exactly what it was and he was already planning his renegotiation tactics.

"Why are you being so accommodating?"

"As you know I'm a man with a secret or two and sometimes it's in a man's best interest to protect those secrets."

"This one of those times?"

"Yes, I very much fear it is."

"How are we going to do this then?"

The Chamberlain quietly overturned his cot, placed books on the floor and made it look like a horde of silent barbarians had rampaged through. Satisfied with the staged chaos he reached out and asked Vaughn for the knife.

The thief hesitated, unsure why the man was so keen to get it back before remembering the hidden chamber. He reasoned it likely part of some eldritch collection that will, no doubt, be responsible for bringing forth a demon. One Vaughn would rather not be around for, so he hands over the knife.

The Chamberlain slashed Vaughn's arm. The pain was sharp but slight, the cut little more than a scratch.

"You could have warned me, this is my favorite shirt." Vaughn looked at the tattered fabric, hurt and annoyed.

"We have to make it look convincing, should anyone spot you fleeing the scene of the crime. Now if you would please leave, I have work to do, guards to summon and a room to clean up."

Feeling like a child being dismissed by a distracted parent, Vaughn fought the urge to argue back. Instead he took comfort in the note tucked into his pocket. Looking forward to bleeding the old bastard dry, before the Chamberlain brought about whatever apocalypse he was secretly planning.

As Vaughn made his way into the forest, his arm itching where the tip of the knife had brushed the skin, the alarm was finally raised and guards flooded into the town.

He rode for hours, until he arrived at the remote farmhouse on the very edge of the kingdom. It was one of those places that you would only know was there if you knew it was there.

Tying his own horse up outside, he opened the door and found his employer sitting waiting for him in the candlelight. The man signaled for him to sit and ordered some unseen servant to fetch them both a drink.

Vaughn turned the small box over in his hand, taunting his employer, the longing almost visibly radiating from him. He told an edited version of his tale, keeping the most valuable parts to himself. He also took the liberty of replacing his and the Chamberlain's negotiations with a more dramatic, and daring, life or death escape from armed guards.

"So I now know how much your little trinket is worth,” Vaughn added.

His employer wasn't the first person who struggled to conceal their contempt for the thief, but this man wouldn't fool even the slowest Goblin.

"So taking both these things into account my fee has just tripled. And before you say anything, it can easily be quadrupled, especially if I have to waste my evening arguing." Vaughn rubbed at the place where the Chamberlain had slashed his arm.

At first he was afraid it had been infected, but it showed no sign of weeping or seepage.

"If you will excuse me I must discuss this with my..."

"co-conspirators" Vaughn watched the shadows outside the window dance around in the wind.

Something emerged from the gloom and lumbered towards the farm. Vaughn sprang to his feet and drew his blade.

“What's...” The thief silenced his employer with a gesture.

Moving towards the window, Vaughn gazed out, expecting to see the figure slithering around the outside of the building. Instead the door shook in its frame as if it had been struck by a fireball. A barrage of blows followed until the ancient wooden frame gave way and the entire thing crashed onto the floor.

Green light began to seep from Vaughn's arm, the intensity of the heat almost unbearable. He struggled not to drop his sword and cradle the wound.

Moonlight illuminated the man in the doorway. It was the Chamberlain's doppelganger, the shambling corpse gripping the dagger that had slashed Vaughn's arm. Plumes of green light rose up from the blade.

A wheezing sound rose up and out of its chest. The words ‘Renegotiate’ bubbled through its bloated purple lips, followed by strangled laughter.

"Even his bloody secrets have secrets," Vaughn whispered.