The Great Bazaar and Other Stories by Peter V. Brett Read Free Book Online Page B

khaffit ." He leapt to his feet and ran towards the dama.
    "Mercy,
masters!" the boy cried, falling to his knees before them. "I was but
a hostage!"
    Arlen didn't stop
to stare. "Get on!" he shouted, shoving Abban at the camel as he
produced a wicked knife to slice the leather harnesses that held the beast to
the broken cart. The moment it was free, he stuck one foot in the stirrup,
grabbed the saddle horn, and slapped the camel hard on the rump with the flat
of his blade. The beast gave a great bray and broke into a run, leaving the
cries of the dama behind.

    "Take the books and go at first light, Par'chin," Abban said. "Leave the city, and I
will bribe the gate guards to swear you've been gone for a week."
    "What about
you?" Arlen asked.
    "I will be
better off with you and the evidence long gone," Abban said. "Jamere
will tell them he could not see our identities with the night veils in place,
and without proof, a few well-placed bribes will divert any inquiry."
    Arlen nodded, and
bowed. "Thank you, my friend," he said. "I'm sorry to have
caused you so much trouble."
    Abban clapped his
shoulder. "I am sorry, too, Par'chin. I should have better warned you
about the dangers of Baha kad'Everam. Let us call the account settled." The
shook hands, and Arlen headed out into the night.
    At dawn, he
returned to his hostel, pretending to be returning from alagai'sharak. No one questioned this, and he was able to retrieve his possessions and escape
Fort Krasia before most of its inhabitants left the undercity. The dal'Sharum at the gates even lifted their spears to him as he left.
    As he rode, he
clutched the precious map tube. He would go to Fort Rizon and resupply, and
then, he would find Anoch Sun.

    There was a hissing in
the bazaar, as the merchants warned of approaching damn.
    Abban hurriedly
drew back into his tent, peeking through the narrow gap in the flaps as a group
of black-clad dal'Sharum warriors appeared, shoving people aside as they
escorted a group of furious looking damn and a young, skinny acolyte.
Abban's fingers tightened on the canvas as they marched up the street, stopping
in front of his pavilion.
    Amit came limping
up to them, the crippled dal'Sharum bowing his head slightly. "Have
you come for the khaffit, finally?" he asked one of the warriors.
"Whatever you think he has done, I assure you it is the least of his
crimes..."
    He was cut off, as
the dal'Sharum struck him across the face with the butt of his spear.
Blood and teeth exploded from the merchant's mouth as he fell to the dust. He
tried to rise, but the warrior that had struck him leapt around behind him,
putting his spear under Amit's chin and his knee into his back, pulling hard to
choke Amit's head upwards to look at the dama and boy.
    "Is this the
one?" the lead dama asked the boy.
    "Yes,"
Jamere said. "He said he would kill my mother, if I did not obey."
    "What?!"
Amit gasped. "I've never seen you before in my...!" Again the warrior
pulled back on the spear, and his words were cut off with a gurgle.
    "Do you
recognize this?" the dama asked, holding up the spear Abban had
dropped in the street, tied with the bright orange cloth he had used to signal
Jamere. "Do you think us stupid? It's no secret you wear a womanly orange
kerchief on your vestigial weapon, cripple."
    "Dama, see here," a warrior cried, leading a camel from Amit's pen. "It's
been whipped recently, and wears leather pads on its feet."
    Amit's eyes
bulged, though it was hard to tell if it was from incredulity or the
continually choking spear at his throat. "That's not my...!" was all
he managed to cough.
    "Tell us who
your accomplice was," the dama demanded. The warrior at Amit's back
eased the choking spear so he could answer.
    Gone was all the
smug superiority from Amit's voice, the security in his position in this world
and the next. Abban listened carefully, savoring the pathetic desperation in
his rival's voice as he protested his innocence and begged for his life.
    "Tear