Storing Up Treasures

By Ryan Bush

I clung to a thick rope, arms trembling as my breath rasped through my mask. The single torch high on the wall above me sputtered light at the deeper shadows of the night. A guard marched along the top of the wall, and his body briefly blocked the torchlight, but he was soon gone. I blessed his incompetence as I pulled myself the rest of the way up and over the lip of the parapet. The man hadn’t seen me, let alone the rope next to him.

I advanced quietly atop the wall. There were no other guards. If the royal treasury was this badly protected, it was no wonder the rest of the kingdom was in shambles. Below and to my right, dozens of ragged peasants huddled together in the muddy city streets, groaning with cold and hunger.

To my left loomed the treasury’s opulent grounds, filled with lush lawns and overburdened trees that dropped their fruits unnoticed and unharvested. I gritted my teeth. The royal family dithered away money like it was nothing while their own people wasted away outside the palace walls. King Osamus and his vicious brother Prince Erasmus, Lady Queen Viria with her endless parties and parades, Prince Humphrey and Princess Lisara, all just hoarding and wasting. The rest of the nobility were no better. People were starving, and the city was nearing a riot. That was why I was here tonight.

The wall circled the grounds and butted up against the treasury—a huge, square, stone building. Statues of the nobility glared down from its roof as if furious at what I was going to do. Confident that the guard wouldn’t return for a few minutes, I moved more slowly, searching for the small mark I’d made previously on one of the flagstones.

It was difficult to locate in the darkness, but I soon found it directly beneath a marble statue of Prince Humphrey. The little princeling sneered down at me as I glanced around, then loosened a prybar from my belt. It took only a moment to pry up the flagstone, revealing a dark tunnel. I crawled inside, pulling the stone back into place over me. Crouching on my hands and knees, I crept through the narrow passageway, feeling my way in the darkness. I had discovered this tunnel on an ancient map of the treasury grounds, and I assumed it had once been used for access or air, although it had long since fallen into disuse.

It only took a minute to reach the other end of the tunnel. I pressed against the rough stones until my fingers found the ancient latch. I twisted it, and a thin slab of stone groaned away on rusted hinges. I held my breath and listened, but heard nothing. The room before me was almost as dark as the tunnel, but a window high in the opposite wall allowed enough moonlight to faintly illuminate the large space, revealing the gleaming riches of the royal treasury.

I dropped a few feet to the floor, then untied a large sack from around my waist. I couldn’t carry much back through the passageway, so I would have to choose my treasures carefully.

I grabbed a handful of gold coins from a nearby table, wincing as they clinked loudly. Gemstones were worth more for their weight, but they would take time to distribute and sell, and many people didn’t have that time. Gold would help immediately.

I crept through the room, grabbing riches that would be easy to trade. I stopped in front of a ruby as big as the palm of my hand, gleaming even in the faint moonlight. Its value would likely feed the entire city for a month, but it would be impossible to sell. Only noblemen had the wealth to purchase it, and they would immediately know a commoner was a thief if he—

A faint wisp of sound was my only warning. I whirled, but not fast enough to avoid the heavy club that smashed into the side of my head. I flew backward and crashed to the floor, and my entire world spun. I tried to sit up, but it took all my effort just to draw in painful gasps.

Before I could still the dizziness inside my skull, a heavy boot stomped on my chest, knocking the air from my lungs again. A rough hand yanked my mask from my head, and I was hauled to my feet. Before I could speak, I heard a loud gasp.

“Prince Humphrey! My prince, what are you doing here? Forgive me, I thought you were a thief!”

My eyes were swelling shut, but I didn’t need to see the man’s face to know his voice. Jhonn, the treasury’s chief guardsman. Now, rather than gripping me for a beating, he held me upright as if afraid I would collapse.

“Jhonn,” I slurred past a swollen tongue. I could taste blood. “Tonight, I am a thief. I have begged and connived every way I can, but my father will not see reason. The people are starving. What would you have me do?”

Jhonn’s fist tightened on my collar. He lowered his voice and hissed, “Why should I abandon my duties? The oaths I swore to this kingdom? To your father?”

“Please,” I croaked past the lump in my throat, “Tonight, I abandon my oaths to my father to serve a greater one. Do your friends go hungry at night? Your neighbors?”

He hesitated, and I softened my voice. “Your family? I do this for them. My family swore to serve the people, and even if I alone shall heed that call, I must obey. Please, let me go.”

Jhonn’s fist trembled slightly, but finally, he released me.

“Very well. I never saw you.” He hesitated a long, long moment, then picked up the bag I had dropped. “But then again, two can carry more than one.”

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Ryan Bush has dabbled in a variety of trades and mastered none of them, so now he’s a fantasy writer. His beautiful wife once said she enjoyed a short story he wrote, and he’s been chasing that high ever since. His works range from epic fantasy novels to humorous short stories, and he tries to blend his Christian faith with entertaining, uplifting tales.

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