Everyone in Camden knows that the best place for a hot drink in the market district is The Red Rose Coffee House on the corner of Market Square and Red Rose Lane. Due to the popularity of the coffee house, it was packed to the rafters, but they had set up a kiosk outside, where a pink-cheeked young woman with a ready smile was busily serving a line of customers.

Maeve and Eden found themselves a quiet place to stand under the eaves of The Red Rose, where they could hug their thick white mugs close for warmth, and still get a good view of the square. There was a handy little aperture in the wall where they could place their mugs if they chose.

"I wonder where the others are," Eden mused, watching the marshmallow slowly dissolve in her hot chocolate before taking her first sip.

"They've probably taken their visitor to see the big shops on Great Market Street, on the other side of the square," Maeve said, nodding to where the street continued.

"Then we should be able to see them when they come back easily enough," Eden said.

"That old sailor seemed to recognise you," Maeve said, looking at Eden over the rim of her coffee mug. "Have you ever seen him before?"

"I don't think so," Eden said, wrinkling her brow. "He said he used to sail on a cutter that was out of Sutton harbour."

"Ever been to Sutton?" Maeve asked casually.

"No. Well – twice. Father and I sailed to Armorica the summer before last, and we took ship at Sutton and came back the same way," Eden said. "But we were only there a short time, and I don't remember meeting anyone."

"Hm. Well, I'll have someone look into it anyway," Maeve said. "Can't be too careful."

"How did you become a bodyguard?" Eden asked, who had been very curious about this.

"I got my start at sixteen, hunting outlaws in the forest and collecting the bounties," Maeve grinned. "That was three years ago."

"I've always thought outlaws sound rather splendid," Eden confessed. "Whenever you read about them in books, they only become outlaws out of necessity, and do all they can to help people. Like Lady Rubina Wood, who stole from the rich to give to the poor."

"That's only true if the monarch is cruel and unjust," Maeve pointed out. "Our king is honest, and the laws of our land are fair, so anyone who defies them is bound to be a pretty bad lot."

"What do you need to do to hunt outlaws?" Eden wondered.

"Keep your mouth shut," was the quick retort.

For a moment Eden's black eyes flashed in anger, then she realised the import of Maeve's words. "You mean, so they can't hear you?"

"Yes – you have to remember to look and listen, and to do that you need to be quiet," Maeve said. "Look around the square, and tell me what things you notice."

Eden put her mug down, and tried to keep herself completely motionless, imagining she was tracking outlaws in a forest. Even her mind had to be as still as the lake on a day with no wind, ready to receive information. At first it was just a busy square, crowds of people going this way and that, their chatter nothing but background noise.

Then something got her attention. A pretty dark-haired girl, perhaps a couple of years older than Eden, dressed in the cheap finery of a flame red dress. She was holding onto an unhappy looking shabby boy of about eleven. He was thin and pale, with hair so fair it was almost white, and a pink rim around his eyes that made Eden think he had recently been crying. He reminded her of a white mouse she had once kept as a pet.

"Those two," Eden said, staring straight at them rather than pointing. "They don't fit together."

"Why's that?" Maeve asked with interest.

"They don't look like brother and sister," said Eden, trying to give logical voice to her suspicions. "And see – she's holding him by the wrist, not his hand."

"Well, you've got good instincts," Maeve said, sounding rather impressed. "That's Nettie Pike, a well-known thief. She's been in a pick-pocketing gang since she was a small girl, and now it looks like she's training younger kids."

Just then, Nettie gave the little boy a hard shove in the back, so that he bumped into an elderly gentleman in a magnificent plum coloured coat trimmed with fur.

"I'm so sorry, sir," said Nettie with a sugary smile. "I do hope my little brother didn't hurt you on accident. He can be that clumsy. Do say sorry to the nice gentleman, won't you, dear? Remember what Mother told you. Oh, I do hope there's no stain on your lovely coat, sir."

"There's no harm done, please do not concern yourself," the elderly gentleman said courteously. "I'm sure your little brother simply lost his step on these uneven cobblestones."

The girl made a great show of examining the coat for damage, but Eden's sharp eyes saw perfectly well that she was using this as an opportunity to draw the man's purse from his pocket. All the while she chattered away, saying how nice he was not to be angry with her darling baby brother – "He's the youngest of us, sir, and needs that much caring for".

Without thought, Eden ran over to the group, shouting, "Thief, thief!" She hardly knew what she was doing, she was so filled with righteous indignation at seeing someone being robbed that she forgot all about the splendour of the wild outlaw, and how noble Lady Rubina had been to steal from the rich. Eden now discovered that actually watching the unsuspecting rich get stolen from by the well-practised poor was no pleasant experience.

"Sir, that girl has taken something from your coat," she called out to the elderly gentleman, who looked shocked, and drew back from Nettie in confusion.

The little boy looked frightened and tearful, the sharp Nettie turned and prepared to show her heels – but she was too late. With her astounding ability to move unseen and unheard, Maeve had taken Nettie by the shoulder from behind, and used her strength to keep the girl pinned in place.

"Turn out your pockets," Maeve ordered. Her tone was perfectly pleasant, yet impossible to disobey.

"Why of course," Nettie said, her eyes big and innocent. "I didn't do nothing, I don't know why this girl said I took something from the nice gentleman. I never would."

She turned the pockets of her jacket inside out to show there was nothing in them, and gave Eden a challenging stare. "Can I go now?"

"Check her dress," Eden said to Maeve, not looking at Nettie.

The bright red dress had been skilfully supplied with deep pockets, and when Maeve dug her large hand into one, she pulled out a handsome leather purse, heavy with coins.

Eden quite expected Nettie to blush with shame, or even break down crying, asking forgiveness for her iniquity, and swearing to live a blameless life from that moment hence. Which just shows how little she knew of the criminal mind.

"Goodness, how on earth did that get there?" Nettie said in tones of the greatest surprise. "I am so sorry sir, my little brother must have slipped it into my pocket. It's a sort of game he plays. I think he must be half a natural, for Mother has told him not to do it. It was very wrong of you, brother dear, and Mother shall give you a smack when we get home."

"Do you wish me to get the police, sir?" Maeve asked the elderly gentleman, handing him back his purse.

"There's no need for that, madam" he said, as he put it more securely into his coat. "I have my purse back, thanks to you and this little girl here. The boy was just playing a foolish game, which the young lady has apologised for. It's Yuletide, after all."

He gave Maeve and Eden a warm smile, and Nettie a very wary one. I'm afraid he forgot to smile at the shabby little boy, who had used the opportunity to retreat some distance from Nettie, although too scared of her to go very far.

Maeve loosened her grip on Nettie, and the girl immediately turned and ran, yelling, "Scarper, scarper!" to the little boy, to be soon followed by an angry shriek of, "Not after me, you mug! Split up!"

The red dress streaked across the square at an astonishing rate, ducking and weaving until it melted into the crowd. The little boy stood afraid and uncertain for a moment, before he too ran – in the opposite direction, down Red Rose Lane.

Without hesitation, Eden took after him, calling, "Wait, wait!"

"Victory, come back at once!" Maeve shouted.

Eden turned for a moment to say urgently, "I'm sure he needs our help," then continued to run after him.

"And I thought you were going to be a nice easy kid to look after," Maeve groaned, with little choice but to follow.

Eden pounded down the cobblestones of Red Rose Lane, in an agony lest she lose sight of the boy that she had begun to think of as The White Mouse. "Please stop," she panted, but the boy looked behind at her, and ran even faster.

They reached the part of the lane which had been blocked off to form the Yuletide Markets. The White Mouse was trapped in a maze, scrabbling uselessly against the high wooden palings of the fence, and looking at Eden in panic.

"Don't run away from me. I won't hurt you," Eden said, just as Maeve arrived.

The White Mouse was backed against the fence, his face terrified. 

"I work at the palace," Maeve said in a calm voice, stretching out her hand to him. "I can protect you and get you help. These people you are with are not your friends."

"I know that," said the boy in a thin, squeaky little voice – just like a mouse, Eden thought. He suddenly went floppy, looking defeated. Eden was sure he was going to accept Maeve's help, and gave a sigh of relief.

Instead he looked at Eden and said with a surprising firmness, "But I don't know you're my friend either," and with a swift movement he fell to the ground and squeezed his thin little body under the fence, leaving his patched jacket behind.

"Quick, quick," Eden begged Maeve. "We've got to find him. You said you could get through if you needed." She snatched up the jacket as if was a helpless child, and looked at Maeve with eyes of desperation.

"You're too big to go under," Maeve said, "so the only way is over." She gave Eden a boost so she could scramble over the top of the fence, her dress and coat proving something of a hindrance. Then Maeve vaulted her long legs over, her skirt as much a part of her body as a second skin. She dropped to the ground, and caught Eden when she likewise let go.

The White Mouse hadn't got very far. He was no longer running, but cautiously pressing himself against buildings as if fearful of discovery. He kept himself low to the ground, finding dark places to hide himself, poking his nose out to scent if danger was near.

He whirled around when he heard Eden and Maeve cross the barricade. "Don't come any nearer," he squeaked.

"I won't come any closer," Maeve said in the same kind, calm voice. "Please come with me if you want a different sort of life. A better life." She held out her hand again.

The White Mouse took a few wavering steps towards her, then stood as if undecided.

"You're nearly there," Maeve said encouragingly. "Just reach your hand out to me. At least let us give you your jacket back."

The White Mouse seemed to make up his mind – perhaps the chill alleyway reminded him that he needed warmer clothing. He walked towards Maeve; slowly, but steadily, taking darting little glances at his jacket that Eden carried.

Eden held her breath – he was so close, so nearly there! Surely he would decide to come with Maeve, surely he didn't want to live amongst thieves and be always running and hiding.

A man stepped out of the shadows, just behind The White Mouse. He was a few inches taller than Maeve, and all dressed in black. He looked at Eden, and gave her an awful smile; she had time to notice he had a gold tooth.

Eden had faced wild animals in her time, and had once been confronted by a wolf, which bared its fangs and snarled so that her pony bolted with her. This man reminded her of that, except that he was far more terrifying. He had something which even the most savage beast cannot possess – a vicious depravity that made Eden feel sick as well as frightened.

He did not speak to Maeve and Eden, but only to The White Mouse, who stared at him in horror.

"Come to Mother," he said with an ironic twisted grin, and then he snatched up the boy and slung him over his shoulder before loping away down Red Rose Lane.

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LINDENSEA LORE

Roxanne "Roxy" Diamond, the notorious Queen of the Mercury Street Gang, was arrested yet again this week, after a daring raid on Wittering's department store on Forum Street, in which she stole fur coats and other luxury goods. 

Roxy Diamond has already been imprisoned numerous times in her mere 19 years, and would ordinarily be looking at another stretch of several months. However, in this instance, she made the  mistake of stabbing arresting constable, Frederick Harlington, when he apprehended her. 

Although Constable Harlington is recovering well at Chiron Hospital in Bradfield, a charge of reckless and grievous wounding seems likely to keep Miss Diamond behind bars in Deadway Prison for some time.

Rumours from Camden's criminal underworld whisper that a new queen is ready to take over the Mercury Street Gang. Henrietta "Nettie" Pike, aged 16, known as "The Brunette Bandit", may be next in line to the unholy throne vacated by "Queen Roxy" Diamond.

Nettie Pike is known for having a violent and mysterious henchman, humorously known as "Mother", and as well as forcing orphaned children to join the gang and be taught thievery, she is said to have plans to expand the gang's operations into darker and more serious crimes. Your reporter warns the officials of Camden that the city may be facing grave danger from this menacing and malicious miscreant. Will anyone have the courage to stop The Brunette Bandit?

From The Camden Times,  29th October 1456 of the Saxon Era