Sin & Repentance Read online



  "Sin and Repentance"

  A short story set in "the Prometheus Cycle" Universe

  By Silas A. DeBoer

  SIN AND REPENTANCE Copyright © 2014 by Silas A. DeBoer.

  All rights reserved. Printed in the United States of America. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations em- bodied in critical articles or reviews.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  For information contact; prometheuscycle.blogspot.com

  Book and Cover design by Silas A. DeBoer

  ISBN: 9781311366405

  First Edition: July 2014

  A Note from the Author

  Similar to the other free short stories in this series, Sin and Repentance predates the novel "The Prometheus Cycle: The Star, the Sword, and the Mirror" and focuses on a supporting character's life prior to involvement with the main characters. This story is centered near the borders of Stormdrang prior to the Realm's invasion of the independent duchy and takes place after the short story Prometheus' First Step. The agent in this story is a patriot of Stormdrang and for a few chapters pursues the main characters in the novel for her own purposes (albeit with a different alias).

  As with the rest of these short stories, you do not need to read any of them to understand the novel, but I hope this free short story will help to spread awareness and prompt curious readers to buy the book.

  You can learn more about this novel and supporting short stories at prometheuscycle.blogspot.com

  "We crucify ourselves between two thieves: regret for yesterday and fear of tomorrow."

  ~Fulton Oursler

  "Stop thief! Guards!" The voice rang out in the darkness of night, outrage and disbelief echoing off the narrow alleys of Brondeburg.

  Aelias smirked as she crested the cobbler's roof and pulled her grapnel up. The surveyor railed three floors below, shouting in the wrong direction. The rogue quietly looped the grapnel's line as she walked across the slate tiles. The twin moonslight shaded with wispy clouds was all she needed to traverse the Roofways, leaping from one building to the next, ascending here, descending there, and none aware of her travels. She kept to the peak of each roof, the stoutest ridge which was less prone to loose tiles. All the roofs in Brondeburg were slate by ordinance, which kept a price floor on the cost of living and ensured a certain quality of citizen.

  Twelve minutes passed from the actual theft and Aelias' return to Geri Adler's cellars, though the soapmaker would never believe his demure apprentice anything but what she claimed. Geri was blind and partially deaf, and like an Autarch of Elene to save the faithful Aelias posed as a distant relation come to help. The art of soap making came naturally to Aelias, and procuring ingredients kept her busy during the day visiting here and there, inquiring there and here, talking to him and her, answering her and him. It was one of her better covers.

  Aelias dropped from the soapmaker's roof to the ground floor in three deft leaps, touching down in a roll to spread the impact. She opened the grate (propped open with a stick earlier in the evening) and slipped into the cellar, closed the portal behind her and latched it tight. The cellar smelled of lye, always lye, but trips to the butcher's for fat and the charcoal maker for ashes would otherwise be a daily affair. The lye came in shipments from the quarry annually, and the soapmaker bought a ton of the acrid substance. While lye could be manufactured from wood, the quarries were a state-run monopoly worked by prisoners to the Duchy of Stormdrang, and thus its cost was well below the ashmaker's price with the disadvantage of bulk storage. Geri Adler knew how to run a business, but his last few apprentices stole secrets to sell to competitors, and now the Master Soapmaker welcomed a different kind of thief to rescue his business.

  Aelias set the merchant's satchel down on the workman's table as she lit a taper from the embers of the hearth. The lye was barreled with tar on the far side of the stone- and mortar crypt (lye spoiled in humidity and flame threatened to destroy half the houses to the seven hells). The young thief had already sent the report to her master on the explosive dangers of lye with suggestions on how to quickly destroy key bridges or to create landslides in the mountain passes. The rising price of the quarries were Aelias' only indication that the Master made use of her ideas.

  Once the taper was lit, Aelias searched the merchant's satchel, noting two scroll cases, one ornate ivory and the other of un-worked leather, a steel hand mirror, a writing case with a dozen graphite styluses, a few stoppered bottles of red and green inks, a steel pen with some wear, a slim volume of erotic illustrations and tawdry poetry, a cameo with a miniature portrait of a young girl's face on a small golden chain, a pair of golden lutes, a handful of silver flutes, and a smattering of copper ten-pennies in three separate pouches. She unloosened the ornate scroll case and sorted through maps of towns, lands and the passes, each done by three different hands on rich vellum. The papers in the un-worked leather included various letters of appraisal and writs of survey.

  Seven hells, where is the letter? Aelias searched through the satchel again, looking for secret compartments and hidden pockets. He must have it at the manse. Aelias sighed that the damning evidence she searched was not in the satchel. The midnight robbery would only alert Surveyor Guttmacher to higher security precautions. I know the man is a traitor, but the Crimson Captain will not act without evidence. Aelias sighed again. It would have to wait for the morrow when she made her report to Vigo.