Dashing
Rapidly rhythmic thumps dripped from footfalls moving discretely through an empty manor house. Silence was key here, and though the feet were clumsy, they were almost inaudible. The sun had already dropped below the horizon and left the smoky blue of night air. Any other evening would have been spoiled by even the chirping of crickets. Would have, had the dashing gentleman thief, The Scarlet Specter, not had anything to do with it!
Though the streets were only dimly lit by flickering oil-lanterns, the night was alive with the song of laughter ringing from the one and only crimson-robed robber of the city as he danced between the grasping mitts of the guards. Men who stood guard with dignity and stoicism by day, and gave the very air the smell of an absolute certainty now bumbled over their own stuffy uniforms, fumbling for their sabers and muskets. Though he certainly made a way of ducking and weaving with his body, the guards quickly had him circled up, their bayonets pointed and ready. Sheepishly, the Scarlet Specter smiled and raised his hands in mock fear at their blushing ears and tight scowls. The little mask he tied round his face barely covered his forehead to the tip of his nose, making his face mockingly easy to see.
Two of the guards broke formation, saluting the stout man who moved to fill their positions. His whiskers wiggled in his nose as he snorted and straightened his hat. The foppish blue feather in his hat showing his rank bobbed pompously.
“Good to see you’re right in the streets where I left you.” The captain’s words growled from beneath their willowy curtain. Being a dashing man, the Specter replied in kind.
“I’d never dream of leaving without saying goodbye, especially to such a stunning bird,” he punctuated with a gesture to the gaudy blue plume. “But I should probably get going before too long.”
“Oh, I think I’ll have to insist you stay…” the captain motioned for the guards to move in.
“Sorry, captain, other ladies will want to dance tonight.” The Specter bowed forward. When the guards reached for him he leaned and bowled himself over, tumbling under the men grasping at air. “Give the missus my best!” He stood and turned on his heel twirling the bright blue feather he had plucked on his way out. With another sing-song laugh he took off again, the captain throwing his now bare hat on the ground in frustration.
****
The Specter tried to stifle his chuckles as he rolled and ran and crouched between and street-stands and empty coaches. He already knew himself faster than any of those guards, and he knew these streets better than the oldest architects. But still, moving in and out unseen simply seemed pointlessly boring. It’s not like he could just sell whatever he stole as the Scarlet Specter, much less what he would even want with that kind of money. If anything the most valuable thing he could get from these people is the fame within his infamy. After all, it’s hardly dashing to be a ghost in the night.
He moved fluidly into a half opened window in the governor’s manor-house, more of an aimed lift than climbing. Even with all his ability he knew it would be down-right foolish to make himself rich with those worthless trinkets, but it seemed good to be dashing. And a dashing gent always makes himself known.
He walked at a leisurely pace through the tastelessly decadent home, considering how he would make his appearance with his newest prize. The governor isn’t here now. He would probably be calming the fuming guards and shooing astounded civilians from the streets. The Specter finally came upon the cellar door, an angled gate to a staircase in the floor. He let himself inside, gently leaning the latch shut behind him. At the bottom of the steps he lit the lantern hanging at the wall and saw the object of the night’s festivities, on a rounded square table, in the back of the room, in a delicately carved chest.
He opened the chest and saw it: small, and very fragile, and all the more beautiful for it. A rosebud, carved of black volcanic glass held on a stem of gold and silver. It lay in a box lined with velvet and silk, soft plush forming to the rose to keep it safe. The Specter let out a soft sigh at the sight of it, and gingerly closed the lid, clasping the pair of locks shut. He rummaged in his coat under his bright red cloak for his calling card. After each theft he left behind a pomander of cinnamon and spice, made in a little ball of red cloth. Ironically these little gifts were the most expensive thing the Specter owned, but that made sure it was unique enough to be noticed.
He grabbed the box and tried to turn away, but was stopped. Another hand slapped onto the box from the darkness. It pulled away from the Specter. He tightened his grip and whirled around, catching the interloper’s arm in his cloak. He wrapped the grip as tight as he could. Another thief was here, dressed in all black, a full mask covered all but his eyes.
“What are you doing!?” The Scarlet Specter’s whisper-scream finally broke the silence.
“I’m taking this box. It’s worth a lot of money.” The thief’s reply was in a poorly disguised growl, as he struggled, his arm pinned within the cloak.
“Wha-who the hell are you!? Don’t do a damn voice if I don’t even know you!”
“I’m a thief”
“I can see you’re a thief! Look at you!” He pulled the man in black closer. “You’re head to toe in black, and you’re stealing something worth a lot of money in the night, obviously a thief.”
“Well I didn’t want to be caught or seen. Black helps with that when it’s dark out.” The Specter sneered at the sarcasm.
“There’s better ways to be getting money than stealing something like this. And look at you, no one’s even going to say anything but ‘a thief!’ You should at least make yourself a bit more…” he trailed off gesturing with free arm to his bright clothes.
“What, obtuse?”
“Dashing!” Without realizing it, the robber lost his grip with his numbing arm, and in an opposite spin the Scarlet Specter was untangled from him, and made a break for the cellar door, the box under arm. He burst through the gate of the cellar and bolted through the dark empty house, breaking out the front door to a welcome of lanterns held by the city guard.
For what was the first time ever, the ever-boisterous Scarlet Specter was caught paralyzed in the middle of an act of theft. The guards were just as dumbfounded as he, but they still managed to point weapons at him before a single thought occurred. The problem here solved itself, as the box was torn from under his arm, and he was knocked reeling.
The black-garbed robber exploded out of the house in a full sprint, and ripped past the guards with the box against his chest. One surprise after another confused the guards and they yelled after him, weapons still pointed at the Specter. They grumbled about not caring about the theft nearly as much as bragging about getting the infamous accomplice. They turned back to the house but only a little red cloth-ball sat at the ends of their muskets.
The captain tore through the line of guards and shoved them powerfully aside as he desperately gasped for breath. His shoulders shook at the sight of the pomander being the only thing that was cornered. He ignored their stammering excuses until he heard them talk about the second thief. His face calmed and he picked up the pomander.
“They aren’t accomplices; just two thieves after the same thing. Follow the man in black. We have a better chance of catching him than the blasted clown.”
****
Nervous sweat stuck cold and rolled off the robber’s hot-flushed face. He hadn’t considered that the Scarlet Specter would be there for the same thing, much less tonight. Even worse he’s just made himself an enemy of the guards who shouldn’t have known anything. He cursed his stupidity as he panicked and pushed through dozens of locals and regular folk just to get out of the manor. His breath was becoming ragged as he made erratic turns. The air felt heavy with cold in his lungs. He ducked into an alley to catch his breath and form a plan. He held the box tightly to his chest, swearing he would be running again in just a second. He heard a giggle.
“Sorry, dear, looks like we’ll have to cut this date short,” the robber saw in the further darkness of the alley was the Scarlet Specter. He smiled behind a bundle of scented cloth, which was the only thing between his lips and the merchant girl leaning into him. The thief’s jaw dropped in his mask.
The Specter tossed the pomander at him, catching him by surprise between the eyes. He ducked out of the girl’s arms and slipped his hand under the box, pushing it through the thief’s grip and high into the air. He stood posed outside the alley, and caught the box as it fell into his waiting hand. He met the robber’s glare with a grin. He wasn’t wearing his red cloak.
“Tell me young thief, what’s the most important thing a man can be?” The robber didn’t consider his words, and stepped forward angrily. As a final movement, the Specter sang out: “Dashing!” He bent with a spin and tugged his cloak from the ground under the robber’s feet, tumbling him off his feet and on his rear. The robber gritted his teeth as he saw the Scarlet Specter disappear into the city. The merchant girl giggled again and left him to fume alone in the alley. He noticed that the wall was rough with wide spaces between bricks, wide enough for footholds. He grinned under his mask.
****
The Scarlet Specter by now was quite certain he’d made an impression on the young thief. He had to be young, though his face was wholly covered by that scarf; it was tied neatly in the back with a bow. It was probably the only tie the boy knew. He sincerely hoped his antics had not left too bitter a taste with him, after all, it’s all a part of the show, and no one invited the boy on stage.
The Specter considered making a big show of himself tomorrow. Perhaps make an act of returning the onyx rose in public, only to snatch something else before their eyes! Being caught before the stage is set can make the whole act a big flop unless one really gives the audience a treat. He smiled thinking of the girl in the alley who recognized him so fast, and fell dreamily into his arms.
A sudden jolt bowled him off his feet, and out into the cobblestone road from the side-street. The robber in black tumbled with the Specter, grabbing and wrestling any way he could. They pushed and rolled away from each other only in time for a stagecoach to trot over where they’d been. The pair’s eyes met contestably for only a moment, before they fell to the pristine box. It sat silently in the street. They both dove for it, grappling and wrestling boorishly for control. They angrily fought for what felt like hours in the cold street. It could only have been moments, as they finally were stopped by the sound of a gruff voice and a circle of bayonets. The Scarlet Spector’s eyes met with the captain, his blue feather stuck arrogantly in his hat. The smile on the captain’s face stretched his moustache across his whole face.
****
The two thieves sat at opposite ends of a musty cell. The floors were wet, and the iron on their wrists was cold as the Specter fidgeted. They glared at each other through their masks. The guards were ordered to keep their masks on them, so the captain could make a show of unmasking the two for the governor when he came for his jewelry box. The Scarlet Specter snorted and finally spoke.
“I can’t believe this. I can’t believe you! You got me caught! I was so perfect at this! Heroic! Dashing! And some little sneak got me caught…” He groaned and sighed as he let his head fall back against the wall. He stared at the ceiling. “I think I might hate you.”
“Hate me all you like, it doesn’t make much of a difference here. And anyway, if some random sneak was enough to get you here it doesn’t seem you were that perfect.” The Specter suddenly looked back to the robber curiously.
“Hey, yeah, how did you even catch up with me to tackle me? I was way ahead of you. I got far enough ahead to seduce a girl when you had a head-start, but you caught right up to me.” The robber saw genuine childish interest in the Specter’s face and decided to answer him.
“I climbed on the roof from that alley, ran along the top of buildings. It wasn’t hard to spot you from up there.”
“That’s brilliant, that’s stupendous! If you can get the look down that would be absolutely enthralling!” His face lit up with happiness at the novelty in the idea. They both hushed as they heard the sound of a door opening from the front of the building. The governor’s pompous chattering followed. Metal clattered on the wet stone floor. The Scarlet Specter rubbed his cold wrists where the cuffs had been as he stood and stretched. The robber looked at his own sturdy irons and looked up at the Specter.
“It’s not really dashing to hold grudges at times like these, is it?” The Specter answered with only a wicked grin.
****
The governor waddled into the dungeon proper, showed through doorways by the captain, his gut sucked deeply in to impress. A new, white feather bobbed with the blue one in his hat; clearly his superiors were happy with his capture. The color drained from the captain’s face, but quickly filled again with a steaming purple-red as he looked upon an empty cell. The governor snatched the white feather from the captain’s cap. Two young guards ran in, in a panic and met the captain with a salute.
“C-captain! We opened the box and it was empty, no rose! They must have taken it out before we caught them; maybe they have it on them-” the captain threw his hat on the ground and stormed out of the dungeon, the pudgy governor shrieking behind him. In the middle of the empty cell was the pair of cuffs, and the black scarf the robber wore, laid out with the shape of a mask like the Scarlet Specter cut out of it.
– Kevin Thomas, 1st Place in Short Story
