Filbert's Sticky Fingers
Filbert was an infamous and incorrigible crook that liked to steal more than he did to drink and drink he did a plenty. When he wasn't quaffing fine wine, he was breaking into a lord's home to steal a bauble or a bottle if he found a well-stocked cellar. He was so well known in the criminal underworld that seasoned burglars would offer him the choice pickings on their takings if only he would share his secret with them, but Filbert was a prideful soul and couldn't bear the thought of someone being his equal. He was the only one that could break into a well-guarded mansion, sneak right past the noses of the most diligent guards and take whatever he wanted. None could figure out how he did it, that is until he was caught red-handed or should that be sticky-fingered.
To understand what drove Filbert's ingenuity we have to look to his upbringing. The only child of an itinerant preacher, Filbert spent his early years traipsing across the countryside going from town to village and then back again. He would stand by his mother's side while she read from the holy scriptures promising the congregation that there was a better world awaiting them. It may have been true, but the boy never understood why he had to wait until he was dead to enjoy life, he wanted to do it now while he was still breathing. By the age of ten, he'd walked more miles than a seasoned legionnaire did in a lifetime, and he'd witnessed more poverty than any child should. His experiences left him with a fear of being poor and a determination to have the finer things in life.
Sensing that her son was turning away from her teachings his mother set about correcting him but try as she might he wouldn't be dissuaded. It went on this way until the boy became a man and set out on his own.
Being a bright lad from a respected family, Filbert had plenty of options and could have followed many a path in pursuit of his dreams, but any suggested to him seemed like hard work. The more he thought about it the more he came to realise that he would have to turn to crime to get what he wanted. But a month spent with his mother as she sought to save the souls of the inmates at the city jail left him with no desire to join them. If he was going to avoid that fate, then he was going to have to be smarter. He set about learning a trade by apprenticing to an old burglar called Bill. Aside from being a master lockpicker and dab hand at safe cracking Bill was also an avid scrap booker. The city was awash with hand-painted posters advertising everything from potions promising potent powers to encore performances by the Dwarven Acting Company (Dwarves are incapable of acting hence the saying 'dwarves are so down to earth they're under it'. To get around this truth the company employs anyone under four feet tall that can sing. This means that for a few pennies you can watch children wearing fake beards sing as they swing stage swords at other children painted green. The chaotic performance is part of the draw).
Bill collected any that caught his eye, peeling them from walls, careful not to rip the paper, or better yet getting them before they went up, it didn't matter what it said just as long as it had a drawing somewhere on it. He'd hurry home and cut out the parts he liked with a shiny pair of scissors that he kept especially for that purpose. A dab of glue from a pot that sat on his desk, and he'd stick them carefully in his book. Filbert would watch over his shoulder sharing in the old man's passion, a part of him understanding the promise displayed in the crudely drawn pictures.
It didn't take long before Filbert realised that the glue wasn't up to the job, clippings would fall out and Bill would have to spend time sticking them back in, time he could have spent training his apprentice. Being a diligent student Filbert set out to find a stickier substance. He visited every stall on the market but once he realised, they were all selling the same gloop he went further afield. Eventually, he broke into the alchemist's guild and almost got himself arrested but all he managed to get was a splinter from the window frame.
In the end, it was a conversation with Mrs Grimble, his landlady, that put him on the right track. The small boarding house had been inundated with rats until the resourceful Mrs Grimble had come up with a way of trapping the dexterous rodents. An old tenant of hers had left behind a small barrel of tree sap. Loathe to throw anything out Mrs Grimble had stored it in her cellar along with the other belongings from other tenants that had mysteriously vanished (Mrs Grimble keeps a clean boarding house but if she makes a fish stew don't eat it. It's killed more people than the plague). A little of the sap had leaked across her cellar floor forming a sticky carpet that had trapped a few of the rats. When Mrs Grimble saw this, she knew what to do.
Filbert had stood slack jawed as he looked up at the wall of rats as they desperately tried to escape but the sap was too strong. Filbert offered to help dispose of them, but Mrs Grimble said they can stay there until she had need of them (Boiled rat is as good a meat as any). With Mrs Grimble's blessing he took some of the sap to show his master but in his short absence tragedy had struck.
Old Bill had been caught breaking into a jeweller's shop when the jeweller was in the back room giving a private viewing to a watch captain and his bride. Bill was cuffed and marched to the jail by the officer and his soon-to-be wife (They were married a month later and their youngest daughter would be part of the ill-fated expedition to the Erensal Caldera. Thought lost along with the crew she in fact survived and led a happy life teaching the local lizard tribe basic arithmetic. Her likeness adorns the walls of a temple the now numerate lizards built in her honour).
Filbert rushed to the watch-house with the barrel of sap in his hand, but he was too late. Old Bill had been tried and sentenced within an hour of his arrest. The execution should have been a warning to Filbert, but it only convinced him that he needed to be smarter.
Left alone in the old man's quarters Filbert was at a loss until he decided to set about completing Bill's scrapbook. He cut and pasted but he couldn't shake the image of the old man swinging on the scaffold. To take his mind off it he had a drink and then another, and another (Grief does strange things to a person so the reader should show some compassion as they read on).
Somehow Filbert ended up naked and doused in the pine tree sap. Asked why he did it he would only say that it made sense at the time (We've all been there). It didn't take long before he was imitating the rats and sticking to the wall but unlike the unlucky rodents, he was able to pull himself along and with some dextrous manoeuvring navigate the room without touching the floor. With the taste of cheap brandy still in his mouth, he got dressed and tucked the barrel under his arm before setting out into the night. His first target was a palazzo belonging to an old duke. The master of the house thought his treasures secure behind the thick walls and solid gate especially since the lowest windows were over twenty feet above the street level. Filbert found a quiet corner and stripped off before pasting himself in the pine sap. A quick sip of the brandy and he was ready to go.
The feeling of shimmying up the sheer wall and then wandering through the rooms above the heads of servants as they went about their duties was one of exhilaration. With the sticky power of the sap, he was able to take his time and search for only the finest baubles. When he returned to his master's empty house it was with a haul that the old man could only have dreamt of. Over the next few years, a fortune passed through Filbert's fingers, spent as easily as it was earned. But in the end, it was his own hubris that brought about his downfall.
A heat wave spread across the city turning life miserable for all except the wealthy. They retreated to their lofty halls and held luxuriant feasts. Filbert couldn't resist the jewels and the wines on display and decided to break into the duke's own residence during one of these banquets. While the duke's guests gorged on delicacies, fanned by sweating servants, Filbert crept around behind the tapestries, emerging to steal food and wine before retreating to the rafters. He spied on the gathering from his roost, imagining that one day he would be down there with them, seated at the high table and treated as an honoured guest.
By the time the dessert course arrived, it was like a furnace under the roof and Filbert was sweating hard through the sap. Thinking it was time to leave the drunk and naked Filbert set out across the beams, but the sap had turned slippery in the heat, and he struggled to get a grip. His fall was broken by the largest blancmange the duke's guests had ever seen. Dazed by the landing and the copious alcohol in his system Filbert was caught and dragged, with some difficulty, from the hall.
The trial brought Filbert some celebrity, but the judgement seemed certain, it would be the gallows for him and an end to his short-lived life. But at the last moment, the king ordered a stay of execution on one condition, that he share the secret of his glue. The king had followed the proceedings closely, glad at first that the thief had been caught but once he heard the tale of how Filbert had come up with the idea his opinion changed for he too was an avid scrap booker.
Filbert gave a demonstration before the king, mixing the sap with his other ingredients until the glue had the right consistency. Delighted the king ordered a few bottles of wine brought up and drank while Filbert scurried up the wall naked as the day he was born.
With the king's blessing, the secret was shared with the city and pots of 'Filbert's Sticky Fingers' were soon to be found in every market. It proved immensely popular and spread to other cities but Filbert never saw a penny. He spent the rest of his life behind bars eating lumpy porridge and thinking of the lessons his mother tried to teach him. In his final years, he took to preaching and found a modicum of peace.
This was really surprising. I was expecting something about a material and got a "black" story with nicely pointed humour. It turned out really well.
Thanks, Secere:) It started out simple enough but then I got carried away, much like Filbert. Glad you enjoyed it.