Rogers had been a Thief long enough to have a keen sense of perception. The sounds and movements in the open air of the plains were completely different than what he experienced in alleys, inns, and dark corners, but that didn’t mean that he couldn’t sense things.

As Vilo led him along, the first thing Rogers noticed was that while there was no real path, Vilo followed a very specific pattern. He was moving in a general direction, and the twists and turns they took kept them among the shorter grass. Even if the path was more direct, Vilo would avoid it if it included brush that was higher than Roger’s knees.

Rogers first thought was that there was treacherous ground under the taller grass, but another thought changed his mind—they were in the middle of plains that led to the Outer Fields. Rangers should have been everywhere, but Rogers had seen none other than his escort.

They are hiding in the tall grass, he thought.

They had walked briskly for about two hours, with Vilo speaking very little. “How much further?” Rogers asked.

“Not far. You’ll see the encampment in the distance soon.”

“Why is the camp so far from the Wall?”

Vilo gave Rogers an are you serious? look, and then replied, “We hold back the Outlanders. Keeping a lot of distance between them and the city is a good idea, no?”

Rogers had not even considered the Outlanders once they began their march. Of course, he knew they were out there, and the Rangers were defending the city from them, but he never thought of them much while he managed the Lower Quarter, and out here, while walking with Vilo, he was more interested in their immediate environs. “Of course,” was Rogers rather embarrassed reply.

The camp turned out to be a settlement that looked like a large village made up of tents of all sizes. On the edge to the north were what appeared to be a fenced field and mobile stable, with dozens of horses in tent stalls. Their path to the camp was no longer camouflaged, and it appeared to be well worn. While the camp was designed to move, it looked like it had been in its current location for a long time.

Rogers found the Rangers unsettling. He had spent his entire life where color defined the person. No one mixed green with blue or yellow with white. At formal events, accent patterns displaying sub-guilds were acceptable, but a solid color with a solid cover just seemed wrong. Yet here were men wearing brown and green together. Others wore undyed leather with pale yellow shirts.

The clothing of the Rangers appeared to serve two functions: Practical lounging around the camp, where limiting your clothing to the Ranger Guild color of brown seemed entirely optional, and those who were leaving the camp for the plains, and their colors were used more to hide the Ranger in the brush or dirt than illustrate guild membership. In either case, solid brown seemed optional.

Rogers was still wearing the green of his Harvest Guild disguise, and it elicited several comments from passing Rangers, all of them supportive and positive. Some of the comments referred to Outer Field raids that had slipped through, and Rogers realized that the Rangers assumed he was an emissary of the Harvest Guild Captain of the Outer Fields.

They reached a large tent at the center of the camp, and entry took a long time as Vilo answered question after question about his need to talk to Quinto. Most of the guards ignored Rogers as harmless.

They eventually found themselves in a tent adjacent to the large tent, waiting on Quinto to call on them. The sun had already set after a wait of longer than an hour when they were called in. Their path illuminated with torches, Rogers followed a Ranger through the small tent and into the bigger one. There was no ceremony or preparation, they were walked directly into a smaller section of the tent. It looked like an office, with a desk, a few chairs facing it, and large flat pieces of wood held up by wooden bases that had maps and other papers secured on them.

“Vilo, is it?” Quinto stood up. He was tall, but not as tall as Alard. He had jet black hair that reached to his shoulders, and a thick, black mustache. That was another thing that Rogers noticed—mustaches without beards were very uncommon in Ness, yet they appeared plentiful out in the plains. Unlike his guild members, Quinto wore no other than his guild brown, with a brown cotton shirt tucked into brown pants made of a thin cloth. The pants were another rarity among the Rangers—most of them wore leather or thicker fabric.

“Thank you for seeing me, Guildmaster.” Vilo bowed his head. “This is Rogers. He is from the Harvest Guild and has troubling news from within the Wall.”

Quinto peered at Rogers, and for the slightest of moments, Rogers had the sensation that Quinto knew he was a Thief and not a true Harvest Guild member. But he smiled, held out his hand, and said, “Welcome to our camp, friend. I hope Guildmaster Polo is well. I hear every other guildmaster in Ness wants to assassinate him.”

As he shook Quinto’s hand, Rogers was taken a little aback by the nonchalance of Quinto’s view of Ness politics, especially those involving an assassination. Still, it was the opening Rogers needed. “It is dire, sir.” Rogers then outlined the situation in Ness, going into great detail in explaining the deadly assault on the Harvest Guild neighborhoods in the Flats.

“Am I to understand that you are saying the Knight Protectors stood idly by as Merchant guild guards attacked a Harvest Guild neighborhood?”

“It is worse than that, Guildmaster. As we fled through the sewers like rats, we knew of Knight Protectors launching an even more deadly assault that included cavalry.”

“Has Saxe lost his mind?” Quinto exclaimed. “I’m guessing Larsen paid for his loyalty.” Rogers was shocked at how casually Quinto could accept that Saxe had been bribed. “I told the oaf to get a better Deputy, someone who would challenge him and manage his men better, but he enjoys having the simple-minded mountain as his deputy because he had won every arms competition in the guild.” Quinto spoke fast and seemed to do so more to enjoy hearing him tell his own story than for Rogers’ benefit.

As he spoke, Quinto scribbled on a piece of paper. There was a moment of silence when he finished speaking but continued writing his note. Finally, he folded it, placed it in an envelope and melted wax on it, closing it with his guild seal.

While Quinto worked, Rogers thought of what he had said. It was all information that Rogers filed away in his head. John, the Knight Deputy Guildmaster, was well-known to be stupid, but now Rogers knew why he got the job, he was untouchable in battle. That was something to share with Alard.

Quinto stood up, barely five minutes after their meeting had started, and waved toward the door. “Thank you again, Rogers. This was extremely valuable to me.” Rogers had much more to share about Larsen and Orion and various other political machinations that he felt Quinto should know, but didn’t know how to do so without offending the Guildmaster. “Um, sir.” Looking to buy time and perhaps have Quinto sit down again, Rogers said, “What can be done?”

With a smile, Quinto replied, “Why we will depose my traitorous guildmaster.”

Rogers was so stunned he had to stop as Vilo started to usher him out. “Saxe?”

“Of course. I’ve had issues with him for a long time, but this is too much. You will help me with this, Rogers.”

Things were moving fast, and Rogers did his best to stay aware of the various opportunities and pitfalls. “How so, sir?”

“You will take a note to your guildmaster. I need to talk to him.”

“As I said, sir, he is unreachable in Harvest House.”

“He will meet with me.” Quinto said it with such confidence, that Rogers knew it to be true. “But I want him to think over a few things before I arrive.” Quinto held out the envelope and note he had just written. “You are to hand it to Polo or Esmer. No one else.”

“I understand.”

“Time is of the essence.” Turning to Vilo, Quinto said, “Go to the stables and take our two fastest horses. Escort Rogers to Harvest House. You will return with Polo’s reply.”

“Yes, sir.”

They were dismissed, and Vilo led Rogers toward the stables. He was far from his duties in the Lower Quarter, but he felt that this was an acceptable mission. If Quinto could join Polo in working against Orion and Larsen, the Thieves would potentially be the difference in returning order to Ness.