The job had been meticulously planned: The guards had been bribed, the servants evening meal drugged, and the rich Patrician family was out of the city. Our chief had tossed me a bag and chosen me as his partner. I did not question his choice – I was the low man on the crew and only entitled to one-tenth of what I could get my hands on. The chief always had first selection of which room to plunder, and I was in dire need of money. I also didn’t question why the bag contained silk ropes and a proper blindfold when hemp rope and a rag would do as well in constraining a mark. Greed had clouded my judgement. The chief and I entered the second floor, and he motioned towards an open door – I had entered first.​​ I was greeted by the lady of the house – stark naked in her bed. The door had eased shut and I had heard a giggle, the chief had actually giggled, from the other side. 

The matron of the house was not an enticing sight. Middle-aged nobles, being much better fed than us Plebes, tended towards corpulence.  

‘Oh my, an assassin is in the house. Have you come to ravage me?’ she purred, to my horror. People with triple chins do not generally purr, it was more of a croak, but I had got the intent. I was some sex fantasy gifted to her by her friends. ‘Her friends’ were obviously my crew – you had to appreciate the effort they must have put in to pull off the prank – you had to, I didn’t.