“What are you planning now Baek?”
A large, burly form was crouched on the cobbled road, Baek’s gaze on a small group of travelling merchants. He remained immobile but for his beard, which quivered slightly in the breeze.
“Shut up and look.”
Oren did so. The merchants were talking animatedly, and although Oren couldn’t hear the words, he could see the expressions and the gestures made. At least one of them was angry, and the other was reciprocating that anger with anger of his own. There was a third who seemed to be trying to play the peacemaker of the group, but to no avail. Unintelligible words carried over the large crowd in the market, and more than a few bystanders had stopped to watch the scene unfurl. Even the guards, who would no doubt have been more effective at keeping the peace than the flustered third merchant were watching, trying very hard to keep the grins off their faces. Must be a slow day.
“Maybe we should get closer.”
“Why on Earth for?”
“Well to find out what they’re arguing about. Seems like a bit of fun.”
Baek stared at Oren for a moment, then smacked him over the head with a plate-sized palm.
“You idiot.” Baek began as Oren rubbed the back of his head. “Why would I be interested in a couple of fruity fat gold sacks and their petty arguments? No, look at this.” He pointed to the crowd gathering around the trio and at the strangely empty stalls that lined the plaza. No, not empty, unattended. He suddenly realized what Baek was referring to. The merchants are causing the perfect diversion for some quick-thinking opportunists to fill their pockets with merchandise.
“We work on different sides of the plaza, you take the west, I’ll go east. Hopefully, only one of us will be spotted and chased, and the other can continue robbing. Sound plan?”
Oren nodded, practically salivating at the prospect of so many unprotected stalls. They quickly split up and made their way to their targets, looking as inconspicuous as possible. Then, while the merchants got red in the face from yelling so much, Oren began looting some jewellery and silks from the first stall, owned by a pompous arse of a merchant from the deep south. The next stall was adjacent to one that was still manned by a bemused merchant, so Oren skipped it and moved to the next. The merchant snatched Oren’s arm before Oren could even think about moving away, and stared at him. He then pointed to a stall with gold and purple lace lining the canopy, and a generous amount of precious raw stones scattered on the table.
“Here’s one Teran. Clean out that stall for me please.” He spoke in a strange drawl, as if he was drunk, but Oren pocketed the Teran and grinned. “You’re a fool for paying me for something I was going to do anyway, but thanks stranger.” The merchant smiled back.
“It’s good to be sure. Besides, I may have some use for you later. Where may I find you?”
Oren debated telling him the district he and Baek operated from, but quickly quashed that notion. “No, I’ll contact you. Tonight.” The merchant nodded and sat back, teeth like a crocodile’s and eyes that flitted from one side of the plaza to the other.
The eyes of a dangerous man, Oren noted. A dangerous, ruthless man.
