The group is dismissed and we exit the building, past the bored-looking patrol that is waiting to give a report. Sure enough, Pil is standing awkwardly outside the Corps building with a sack that looks like it is concealing a sawhorse. It seems no one thought to bundle the swords so that they wouldn’t go every which way.
“Come on, Pil,” says Vong, “we get to sell the stuff we found!”
Pil hefts the sack and begins to follow after.
I need Rakatha to conclude his business. As the group walks, I press him to do so.
“Rakatha, will you give your notes to the man tonight?” I ask.
He shrugs.
“Do you know where he’ll be?”
“No, he said he would find me.”
“Shouldn’t you go and wait for him to find you then?”
He shrugs.
“He approached you at a bar, right? You can have a drink while you wait.”
Rakatha nods and says, “I’ll go wait for him.” He veers off from the group toward the seedier part of town.
“Where’s Rakatha going?” Vong turns and walks backwards in order to ask, once he notices.
“Bar,” I say.
Vong nods and smiles and turns back around.
After Rakatha has a good lead, I peel off from the group and follow him. I want to see the man who hired him. I want to follow that man to see what he’s going to do with the report. Then, I’ll most likely kill him.
Rakatha doesn’t move like someone preparing to sell secrets on his partners. He moves through the streets aloof and unaware that I am following him. He does not look back over his shoulder or dart around corners. He is easy to follow.
I follow at a safe distance behind, and keep a sharp lookout for anyone else following him or following me. My time surviving on the streets of Ezuram provided all the training I could ever want for such endeavors, and my skill is not rusty at all these forty years on. These kinds of maneuvers are helpful in every city, large or small. I must always be aware of who is watching me and what their intentions toward me are, in addition to being able to tail those who might be trying to work against me so I can learn their secrets. Luckily, it doesn’t require stealth, but instead relies on keen observation and psychology.
Had I learned to do this in the military academy when I was sixteen, I wouldn’t be who I am today. I might even still be in Shirokh.
Though I miss the exact moment it happens, I notice another man fall-in a short way behind Rakatha and follow him through the next couple of turns. The man is balding, with golden wisps of hair flowing off the back of his head like a gossamer veil. He’s average height and build, but is missing a pinky on his left hand.
I see Rakatha slip into a small bar near the east wall in the textile district. The entire district is filled with lines of dyed fabric drying in the wind and stretched hides drying in the sun. The scent of rot and urine hangs in the air like a fog and accosts my nostrils. The fouled water used by the tanners, bleachers, dyers, fullers, and curriers is dumped into the waterway that cuts through Nodkis and exits out from under the eastern wall, far enough south from the East Gate that the traffic along the road is spared the odor and aren’t tempted to drink from it.
Scanning my surroundings quickly, there are no easy hiding spots with a good vantage point of the bar. I slow my pace considerably and watch what the balding man does.
As he passes the bar, he tosses a wad of yellow fabric on the ground near the door. Then he keeps walking, disappearing around the corner next to the wall.
Curious. He must be working for, or with, someone.
I spy a mercer’s shopfront and step inside the front gate of the compound. Under the front awning, bolts of fabric are arranged on special racks that allow each rung to hold a different bolt of cloth. A building sits back past the racks and is undoubtedly where the mercer himself sits and the more expensive fabrics are stored.
It is not easy to hide as such an obvious man, but I step behind a rack full of bolts and try to watch if there is anyone following me. Since the man following Rakatha left a signal for someone else, they’ll be along shortly, I expect. I only hope they did not see me following, also.
The Wordbearer Chronicles is a dark fantasy web series with new passages on Tuesdays.
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