Temple Hill - Drew Karpyshyn [8]
She'd have to put the purse back. She quietly slipped through the crowd, edging ever closer to the one-armed man. Lhasha had never tried to "unpick" a pocket before, but how hard could it be, given the soldier's current condition? He kept his eyes straight ahead, completely ignoring the other people in the street. Even when he knocked into them he would simply bounce off and continue on his way without a second glance.
The weaving, uneven steps of her target made it difficult for Lhasha to time her move. She tried to anticipate whether the inebriated man would sway to the left or list to the right, but she continually guessed wrong. When the soldier bumped into a rather heavyset man in blue robes and staggered back against her, Lhasha seized the opportunity and jammed the purse back under his belt- only to see it fall to the ground after the soldier had taken a few more unsteady strides.
Cursing silently, Lhasha was forced to admit that unpicking a pocket was proving to be no simple task.
"What do you make of that, Captain?" Gareth had only been in the Maces a month, and despite his eagerness, he had sense enough to wait for orders from his superiors before taking action.
Kayla, Captain of Elversult's thirty-first watch unit, turned her attention in the direction the young man pointed. An attractive young blonde lady-barely old enough to be called a woman, Kayla thought-in finely tailored, brightly colored clothes was following very closely in the path of a drunk lurching down the street. She was hunched forward, hands reaching out toward the drunk as he shoved his way through the throng. Every few seconds the woman would lunge forward, several times appearing to slip her hand beneath the drunk's belt, or trying to, at least. Occasionally the girl would pause, pick something up from the ground, then resume her strange behavior. The man was completely oblivious to the bizarre charade.
"I think she's trying to pick his pocket," Kayla said at last, still not quite convinced. "But she must be the worst pickpocket the Dragon Coast has ever seen."
"Should we bring her in?" Gareth asked, already drawing the weapon for which the city soldiers were named.
Kayla held up a hand to stay the anxious rookie. "I don't think well need that to bring in one girl." Noticing the sword strapped to the drunken man's belt she added, "But be ready just in case."
On a single order from Kayla the five member unit began to move in on the unsuspecting woman, still hunched forward and completely absorbed in her work.
The crowd, recognizing the uniforms of the city constables, parted before the Maces. In less than a minute they had fallen into step behind their quarry, close enough to hear the young lady exclaim, "At last!" in an exasperated voice as she abruptly stopped, stood up straight, and cracked her back.
Kayla clamped a firm hand down upon the woman's shoulder, and the girl let out a shriek.
CHAPTER THREE
Corin staggered through the crowd, tuning out all the sounds of the Fair-snippets of conversations, the haggling of the customers, the merchants barking out their inventories, even the angry shouts of those foolish enough to get in his way. Protected by a fog of alcohol and apathy he managed to ignore it all. Yet when he heard a woman's scream right behind him his ingrained White Shield training to guard and protect took over.
Reacting to the sound, he spun on his heel and dropped into a fighting crouch, his left hand falling to the hilt of his blade. He may have been too drunk to walk a straight line, but a dozen years of drills and exercises still allowed his muscles to react to combat situations with military precision.
The scene behind him was not what he expected. A blonde girl was being accosted by a group of thugs. No, Corin realized, it wasn't a girl. Despite the waifish features and slight build, the blonde was definitely a woman- though her age