The hours passed and Mistake did not realize that she was hungry until a young boy came by with a cart loaded with food for the merchants. She looked past the last row of stalls and saw an inn. She turned at the first intersection and made her way to the Wine Press Inn. She entered the common room and sat at an empty table. The innkeeper came to her immediately, and Mistake thought she would be kicked out.
“Are you here for a meal?” asked the innkeeper.
“Yes,” Mistake hesitantly as she reached for her pouch of gold to prove that she could pay for the meal.
“Our meals are one gold,” smiled the innkeeper. “You have your choice of wasooki and bread, or clova and rice. Which would you prefer?”
“I will have the wasooki,” Mistake smiled as she realized that the innkeeper was not going to hassle her.
“I will have it sent right out,” nodded the innkeeper as he moved swiftly to another customer who had just entered.
Mistake relaxed and began to wonder what it would be like to live in such a large city. Nobody had bothered her as she browsed the market stalls, and even the innkeeper of the fine inn treated her with respect. It was a far cry from her treatment in the small villages of Fakara. She was lost in thought as two men sat across the table from her. She did not even notice their arrival until the innkeeper brought her wasooki and asked the men for their order.
She looked up and caught the two men staring at her. One of the men was young and handsome and was dressed in a uniform of brown and yellow. The other man was completely covered in black; even his head was covered by a black hood. Mistake tried to peer under the man’s hood, but he snarled at her in a barely perceptible voice. Mistake turned her attention to her meal and ignored the men.
When Mistake diverted her attention, the two men let their guard down slightly. Mistake’s ears perked up as she listened to them whisper. She kept her eyes glued to her plate as she listened to every word.
“You must find other clothes,” the dark man whispered. “These are the days of the Assembly of Lords. Lord Druck will probably attend.”
“Without a doubt,” the military man answered. “I suggest that you also change your appearance. In case you haven’t noticed, everyone stares at you when they see you.”
The hooded man grunted, and Mistake finished her meal. She started to slide down the bench to leave when the dark man’s hand shot out and grabbed her arm.
“You are not from this country, are you?” he asked in a gravelly voice.
A knife slid into Mistake’s free hand as she glared at the hooded man.
“Where I am from,” Mistake spat quietly, “it is not acceptable to grab strangers. I suggest that you remove your hand from my arm, or I shall remove it for you.”
The man must have seen the light glint off Mistake’s blade because he immediately let go of her arm.
“What are you doing?” scolded the military man in a whisper. “We do not want to be noticed.”
“I am sorry,” apologized the dark man. “I must have mistook you for someone else.”
Mistake glared at the man as she eased her knife back into its arm sheath. She walked away from the table and paid the innkeeper his one gold. He thanked her for her business as Mistake slipped out the door of the inn. Her mind was still on the encounter at the inn when she stopped in front of a small stall with expensive art objects. Her eyes automatically scanned the objects and froze when they saw a fossilized shark’s tooth.
“Don’t even think about it,” warned the merchant. “I can smell a thief long before she gets to my stall. I could put a knife through your hand before you could grab it and run.”
Mistake looked up and glared at the merchant. Suddenly, the stories that Rejji had told about his trip to Khadoratung flooded into Mistake’s mind. She grinned at the merchant.
“I heard that Wendal was a good teacher,” she grinned, “but is he really quick with a knife? I am interested in that shark’s tooth.”
“Don’t even try to touch it,” warned Wendal. “I don’t want to harm you.”
“How much is it?” Mistake asked.
“Four hundred gold as if that matters,” retorted Wendal.
Mistake untied her gold pouch and placed it on the table. “There is five hundred gold in that pouch,” she declared. “It is yours if you can stop me from taking the tooth.”
“What kind of game is this?” Wendal asked as his eyes narrowed and a knife slid into his hand.
“The tooth is mine if I get it,” smiled Mistake. “Are you a betting man, Wendal?”
“I will have your gold and your hand,” cautioned the merchant. “I am not fooling around here. I am ready for your move and will not miss. Take your gold and move along.”
Mistake’s hand shot out and grabbed the shark’s tooth. Wendal acted swiftly and jabbed the knife where the tooth had been, but Mistake’s hand was already gone.
“How did you do that?” Wendal asked with a frown of disbelief on his face. “That is not possible.”
Mistake grinned and held her arm out towards Wendal. She opened her fingers to show the tooth safely resting in her palm. Wendal grabbed for the tooth, but Mistake laughed as she moved her arm swiftly out of the way.
“Give it back,” demanded Wendal. “I did not agree to the wager. I will call the Imperial troops if you do not return it.”
“Return what?” laughed Mistake as she picked up her gold pouch and retied it.
Wendal shook his head with disbelief as he gazed down and saw the shark’s tooth exactly where it was supposed to be.
“How can you move so fast?” he asked. “Why have I never seen you around here before?”
“I have never been here before,” Mistake answered.
“But you knew my name,” Wendal said in confusion.
“Rejji told me all about you,” smiled Mistake. “He said you taught him a great deal.”
“You are Rejji’s girl?” grinned Wendal. “No wonder he was love struck. Where is he? What is he doing? How did he gain your freedom?”
“He said he was love struck?” asked Mistake.
“He didn’t say it,” shrugged Wendal, “but I can tell these things. He spent three days trying to get enough gold to buy your freedom. I wish he had bought his own freedom. He is a talented lad. I could use him.”
“He is talented,” nodded Mistake. “He is no longer a slave.”
“He isn’t?” grinned Wendal. “Is he here in the city with you?”
“No, he has returned to Fakara,” Mistake replied.
“Fakara?” spat Wendal. “He does not belong in that barren country. The lad has a knack for dealing. He needs to be in a large city like Khadoratung.”
“Perhaps he will build one in Fakara,” teased Mistake.
“Not much chance of that happening,” Wendal shook his head. “The last news I had of Fakara is that of warfare. I heard that one called Grulak is fighting the other tribes for the right to rule all of Fakara. It is a dangerous place. You should get word to Rejji to come here.”
“Actually,” grinned Mistake, “Rejji sent me here instead. He wants to know what we can sell to the Khadorans now that Fakara is rebuilding.”
“Fakara is rebuilding?” echoed Wendal. “Who won? Was it Grulak or the free tribes?”
“Rejji won,” declared Mistake. “Rejji is now the ruler of Fakara. Grulak is dead. The free tribes have all gathered behind Rejji.”
“You are serious,” grinned Wendal. “I can tell it in your eyes. I always knew that lad had something special. What kind of goods can he supply?”
Chapter 10
Spying
Mistake stood at the corner of the marketplace waiting for the Sakovans to arrive. HawkShadow appeared first, and Mistake watched him approach. The assassin’s gait appeared normal, but the small Fakaran could detect the wariness in him. HawkShadow’s eyes scanned the crowd around him without ever seeming to move. The natural movement of his head afforded him a wide perspective of the marketplace and the people within it. Mistake began to wonder about what the Sakovan could teach her. She was sure that HawkShadow had never been to this city before, yet he looked as if it was his home. He smiled and nodded to people who naturally returned his greeting as if they knew him.