Putting his large hands on his hips, Rol asked, “Why did you look at Tirana before making that decision?”
Impressed that Rol had actually gone to the trouble of learning her name, Gan asked, “Why do you think?”
“You think that if you’re on first shift, that I’ll spend the time you’re on duty with her, and never actually get any sleep, so that I’ll be too tired to properly be on watch for the rest of the overnight. Whereas if I take first shift, I won’t be free to flirt with her until the middle of the night, when she’ll probably be asleep.”
Nodding, Gan said, “That’s pretty much it, yeah.”
Rol grinned widely. “You’re not as dumb as you look. But then, you couldn’t be.”
“That’s certainly true.” Gan chuckled. “I’m going to see which carriage is willing to put up with my snoring.”
“Good luck with that,” Rol said with a chuckle of his own. “I’ll keep the place safe from anakores.”
Gan wandered off, trying to see where Tirana was staying. For some reason, he thought it might be amusing to sleep in the same carriage as her for his first shift …
CHAPTER THREE
Karalith looked up from helping a rather stubborn dwarf and saw Vas Belrik return to the bazaar with only two of his bodyguards.
She had been expecting that he’d bring the entire entourage when he returned that morning-especially that wizened old tutor of his. In terms of logistics, it was certainly better that he brought a smaller group, since there were half-a-dozen customers at the emporium already. His crodlu only made a minor impact on the foot traffic, as opposed to the near-stampede his team of mounts caused yesterday.
Tricht’tha, of course, had arrived half an hour early, as was her wont. The thri-kreen was never late for a financial transaction. The rest of the time, she had a rather elastic relationship with punctuality, but she took the placement of coins into her pincers very seriously.
Shira and Torthal were both dealing with an elf couple who were trying to decide on knickknacks for their kitchen, while Karalith’s twin brother Komir was struggling to help a mul pick some spices. She wondered where the hell Zabaj was-Komir’s Davek was never very good, and this mul spoke with an odd accent.
Unfortunately, Zabaj was still off with Feena delivering that shipment. They should have returned half an hour ago-the delivery was to arrive right at sunup-but they hadn’t gotten back yet.
For her part, Karalith was trying to convince an insane dwarf woman that the silks really were from Tyr and really were worth a silver a foot.
When Belrik came back, the dwarf finally decided to wander off to another vendor, having refused to accept that any silk could possibly cost that much, there was no silk in all of Athas that was worth more than ten coppers a foot. She almost crashed into one of Belrik’s bodyguards as she stomped off in a huff.
Belrik stared after the dwarf as he dismounted. “They should really watch where they’re going.”
Favoring Belrik with her seductive smile, Karalith said, “I’ll knock a copper a foot off the linens if you go back and have your crodlu step on that dwarf.”
Braying a laugh, Belrik said, “Were it my crodlu, I would gladly do so, but sadly, this mount is merchandise. I can’t risk the dwarf’s filth lowering the crodlu’s value.”
Karalith chuckled.
“Enough!” Tricht’tha stepped forward. “Do you have the thousand gold?”
His eyes remaining on Karalith, Belrik held out a hand to one of his bodyguards, who removed a pouch from his belt.
Taking the pouch, Belrik jingled its contents for apparent theatrical effect and then handed it to Tricht’tha.
The thri-kreen voiced the same thought Karalith had when she heard the low number of clicks resulting from Belrik’s action: “That does not sound like one thousand coins.”
“It isn’t.” Belrik smiled, showing off his annoyingly perfect teeth. “It’s one hundred coins-but they’re hundred-gold coins.”
Tricht’tha muttered, “I’ll believe it when I see it” in Chachik, then tugged the ends of the drawstring pouch to peer inside it. Then she let loose with a Chachik curse. “Impressive,” she finally said in Common, indicating that they truly were coins worth one hundred gold each.
Then, Tricht’tha handed the map over to Belrik, who again held out a hand to a bodyguard-the other one, that time. The guard provided a tube-shaped container, into which Belrik very gingerly placed the map.
Handing the tube back to the guard, Belrik said, “Be careful-that map’s irreplaceable, unlike you.”
“Yes, sir,” the bodyguard muttered.
Then Belrik leaned forward on the textile table, his elbows distressing the silk. “So, Karalith, now that my business with the thri-kreen is concluded, may I interest you in breaking your fast with me?”
Karalith looked nervously over at her parents. Her father was busy with a customer, but her mother shot as disapproving a look as Karalith ever saw at her.
Belrik followed Karalith’s gaze over to the elderly human woman, and Karalith saw his crestfallen expression. “I suppose,” he said after a second, “that I have my answer. A mother’s silent disapproval is the loudest statement in the world, I’ve found.”
Karalith looked away. “Thank you for understanding, Vizier Belrik.”
“Since I cannot ask this over the meal as I’d hoped, let me ask you here. I will be mounting an expedition to find Sebic’s treasure-”
“Sebowkan,” Tricht’tha said testily.
Sparing a glower at the thri-kreen, Belrik said, “Whatever his name, it’ll be my treasure soon enough.” He stared right at Karalith. “Come with me. Help me find the treasure; it will be an amazing adventure.” Looking briefly behind him at the Raam city walls, he added: “And it will take me away for a time.”
At first, Karalith stared back at his dark brown eyes, which were confused. Karalith suspected that he was not a man who had to ask for things-he simply demanded them, and they occurred.
“I’m sure the adventure will be amazing,” she said after finally breaking eye contact. “But I cannot. I have obligations to the emporium that I cannot shirk, even for so tempting an offer as this.”
Belrik sighed long and hard. “I cannot convince you otherwise?”
“Convince me? Almost definitely.” She glanced over at Shira, who was back to the elf couple with Torthal. “Convince her? No chance.”
“What about your father? He and I spoke for a bit yesterday, and I believe I could-”
But Karalith was shaking her head. “It is not my father who makes those decisions, I’m afraid.”
That prompted a frown. “What a pity. So rare anymore to find a man who can stand up to his wife.” Belrik sounded wistful when he said that.
The conversation continued for a few more minutes, but eventually Belrik came to realize that Karalith was never going to be able to go with him on his treasure hunt.
Karalith did her best to convey disappointment in her inability to do so until he finally got back on his crodlu and left the bazaar.
The moment he was out of sight, Karalith turned to Tricht’tha and grinned broadly. “Well done.”
The thri-kreen laughed, a lovely chittering noise. “I thought he’d never leave.”
“Luckily, we heard about his shrew of a wife,” Karalith said. “Made it easier to convince him that Mother would never let me leave and Father couldn’t do anything about that.”
“I’m just glad we were able to fleece that dungeater for Lyd’s sake.”
Just then, Zabaj and Feena finally came back to the emporium, holding hands. They made an entertaining contrast, the towering, dark mul and the petite, blond human. Torthal hadn’t been thrilled when they started their relationship. “You don’t dip into your own sand,” he always said. Karalith wasn’t even sure what that meant, but Feena and Zabaj seemed happy, so she didn’t see what the problem was. Occasionally, someone would look askance, but most people didn’t care. It was a hard world-most people figured that if you found love, you should hang onto it. There wasn’t much chance of long-term happiness there-muls were generally sterile and Zabaj was no exception-but when you lived your life wandering through the desert from place to place, you didn’t have the luxury of thinking long term.