The Alabaster Staff - Edward Bolme [6]
The crowd pressed, and Jaldi saw one of the guards waving his khopesh, a vicious sword curved inward the better to cleave naked limbs. The young thief smiled. The greater the tension between the guards and the mob, the lesser the attention for a larcenous rat like him.
He slid past the rear of the crowd, edging his way farther out on the dock. When it became impossible to continue, he lowered himself beneath the dock, using the gaps between the ill-fitted planks for finger holds, and continued toward the ship. His feet dragged in the icy seawater, and those above occasionally trod upon his fingertips, but he was Untherite; such trials were the bread and water of his people.
He worked his way around the edge of the dock until he was behind-and beneath-the unloaded cargo. Peering between the gaps in the planks, he located a site already piled high with crates, sacks, and barrels, and therefore concealed from the view of the guards and stevedores. He crawled back on top of the dock and pulled a small knife from his belt. With a few moments' work he pried open the lid of a barrel filled with cured meats. Stuffing his soiled jersey as much as he could without disrupting his scrawny appearance, he replaced the pried lid and disappeared once more beneath the wooden dock.
Two more bruised fingertips and a pair of frigid feet later, he was back on land, hiding in an alleyway and breaking his fast in as royal a fashion as he could imagine… but his thoughts kept wandering to the Jackal's Courtyard and what awaited him at noontime.
By midday, a chill drizzle washed over the streets of Messemprar, brushed around by the remnants of the morning's east wind and filling the streets with the smell of winter. At the moment, Kehrsyn was warm enough. She wore a faded green long slit skirt hemmed with gold over white leggings that tucked into her nearly knee-high brown leather boots. Her heavy violet blouse was laced with a leather cord from her sternum to her throat and a bright gold sash bound it around her waist. Her hands were bare. Over everything, she wore a brown cloak with a wide hood. The quilted pattern of the inside made it look almost like a cobra's hood when pulled up, an image she felt gave her some protection. The merchant had promised the cloak was waterproof. Unlike the merchant's word, the cloak was better than nothing.
She paused under an overhang before entering the square, surveying the crowd with auburn eyes. Brisk trading took place all around, precious food changed hands, along with coins and goods. The crowd was busy, but it was in a good mood. All Kehrsyn had to do was get people's attention. Given that she'd been performing in the same spot in the Jackal's Courtyard for a tenday, she hoped it wouldn't be too tough.
She didn't know how the Jackal's Courtyard got its name. She'd heard a jackal once stood guard over the area, though she wasn't sure if that was a literal truth or if the large, shivered pole in the center of the square had once been surmounted by the graven image of a beast-headed god of the ancient Mulan, progenitors of Unther and Mulhorand alike.
She pushed back her hood, pulled the collar of her cloak more closely around her neck, and stepped out into the drizzle. It would have been more comfortable to wear the hood up, but it was harder to dazzle a crowd when the people couldn't see your face. A smile, a wink, and an air of nonchalance were all essential to her performance.
She strode over to the great, decapitated pillar and set her small shoulder