“Not sure I’ve ever seen so much leaf in one place,” said Boggs, the hefty man in charge of operations in Grayson’s absence. He scratched at the dark stubble on his face, then sniffed. “How much we charging? Four silver? Five?”
“One,” Grayson said as he hopped down from the last of the wagons, inspection complete. Several others scoffed at that, and Boggs shook his head.
“That’s insane. This trip to Veldaren will cost us a fortune.”
“One silver on the first day,” Grayson repeated. “Two after that, until it’s all gone. The Trifect won’t be able to match, and neither will any of the guilds. We’re spending money now to make it all back later. Consider it an investment.”
“Don’t understand why we need to go through all this,” said Pierce. He was a thinner man, and often complained, but his ear was full of rings, and he’d proven himself one of the more adept killers for the Suns. “You hear what they say back home? Every guild here’s weak, full of pussies too frightened to go after a coin purse lying open on the ground. If we want territory, I say we just take it, and anyone who gives a shit can die.”
“I give a shit, Pierce,” Grayson said, grinning at the man. “You gonna kill me?”
“Only if I get to take your earrings afterward.”
Grayson laughed.
“We’ll have our share of killing, and pay no attention to the rumors you’ve heard. The thieves here are dangerous, even with their balls chopped off. But we’ll be better, won’t we? We’ll kill everyone we need to kill, but for now, no reason to fight. When the money starts running dry, the underworld will turn to us. It’s only a matter of time before the other guilds crumble. Now ready up the oxen. I want us at the gates before the midday trade is done.”
“Get ‘em harnessed!” Boggs shouted.
The thieves scattered about, gathering the few supplies they’d broken out for their rest and preparing the wagons to move. Grayson hopped into the frontmost wagon and leaned back in the seat, hands behind his head.
“Think it’ll be easy getting through the gates?” Boggs asked, taking a seat beside him and grabbing the reins. Grayson fingered the medallion in his pocket, then shrugged.
“We’ll find out,” he said. “No reason to panic until then.”
“Never a bad thing to be prepared,” Tracy said, hopping up to join them as the wagon shuddered into motion. Tracy was Boggs half-sister, and far more pleasant to look at. Her brown hair was tied into a tight ponytail, clearly showing her seven lengthy dangling earrings as she took a seat behind them.
“If the guards give us trouble, just flash them your tits,” Grayson said.
“And if they’re not into that?” she asked.
“Then I’ll show them my dick. Hardly complicated.”
Boggs let out a laugh. Grayson shot him a look.
“Care to share, Boggs?”
“Don’t you see?” Boggs asked. “We’re the most dangerous men Veldaren’s seen in ages, and they’re going to let us right through their walls because of some tits and a dick?”
“Don’t forget a little help from on high,” Grayson said, pulling the medallion out from his pocket by its bronze chain.
“Just seems shameful,” Boggs said. “Shouldn’t we be climbing over walls at night or something?”
Tracy kicked him in the back with her heel, the hilt of the knife hidden in her boot jamming him hard in the kidney.
“Just shut up and steer.”
“Yes, sister.”
They followed the road through the shallow hills, enduring the jostle of the wagons. Grayson lay back so his eyes were free of the sun and did his best to relax. Getting through the gates would be trickier than he let on. There was no room for error. Even if they were fast enough to get away, there’d be no way they could take the wagons with them in their escape. Drastically undercutting their rivals was one thing, but losing all that product without any gain would be unacceptable.
“Remember,” Grayson said, sitting up as the walls of Veldaren grew closer. “You keep your mouths shut and let me do the talking. Don’t want anything to draw attention to us.”
“Not our first time smuggling,” Tracy said.
“And all things considered, I’d prefer it not to be our last, either,” Boggs said. “You got your wish, Grayson. Just hope you’re right about your little helper.”
Grayson grunted. He hoped he was right, as well.
The wagons approached the west side entrance, the portcullis open during the daytime traffic. Boggs stopped the lead wagon at behest of two guards who approached with hands raised.