Dark Empress Read Free Page B

probably the richest man to currently walk the streets of M’Dahz. Asima swallowed nervously as the three of them ducked once more into the shadowy recesses of an unknown building out of the press of sweaty workers.
“This may be stupid, Samir.”
The lithe young man turned and grinned at her.
“Your definition of stupid is a little looser than mine. Getting caught would be stupid.”
Ghassan smiled enigmatically.
    “She might be right, brother… this is a powerful man. One slip and we could be watching our hands as they’re separated from our arms.”
    Samir shook his head.
    “Firstly, we’re too good to be caught. Secondly, no one can hold on to me for long; I’m part eel… you know that. Thirdly: we’re children. This man is a family man from the northern cities and they’re all soft and sentimental. A sob or two from Asima and he’ll send us on our way with a smile.”
    Ghassan looked distinctly unconvinced but shrugged and then nodded. Asima rolled her eyes and finally gave her consent.
    The three took a deep breath and slipped back into the busy street. A few more minutes and the high walls of Trevistus’ compound loomed. Samir had thoroughly checked out the location yesterday. Within the enclosure stood four structures, one at each corner, leaving an open space in the centre that cluttered and emptied with goods and equipment like the tide.
    Closest to the single wide and strong gate stood the two storey building with an external staircase that held the offices of the merchant, his factor, and the various clerks in his employ. On the other side of the gate stood the bunk house that catered for the crew of the merchant’s ships when in port, a building busy at all times barring mid evening when the men caroused in the local taverns. In the opposite corner stood the wealthy and elegant house of Trevistus himself, lived in for only a few weeks each year, and maintained the rest of the time by a permanent staff of servants and slaves. The final corner, the object of Samir’s main investigation, was dominated by an enormous warehouse.
    Ducking into a narrow side alley, the three crossed to the next street, from where the gateway of the compound was visible, guarded by mercenaries of foreign extraction; powerful and blond. Samir waved his companions back into the shadow of a porch projecting from the front of a smelly building called the Laughing Mermaid.
    “Any time now.”
    The others nodded and watched with growing nervousness and excitement in roughly equal quantities. Tense moments passed as workers and slaves traipsed past along the road, carrying goods or going about their various tasks, none interested enough to accord the three peasant children more than a passing glance.
    Somewhere a horn sounded, announcing the arrival of another vessel at this meeting place of worlds. Samir tapped his foot impatiently and looked up at the sky, trying to gauge the time by the angle of the sunlight hitting the building opposite.
“We’re here on time. They must be late.”
Ghassan, beginning to twitch slightly, pursed his lips and frowned.
“I cannot help but wonder how you came across detailed transport schedules for foreign merchants.”
Asima shrugged.
    “Be sure there’s some clerk somewhere wondering where his important papers are, Ghassan.” She turned and smiled knowingly at the smaller brother. “You are a menace, Samir. And possibly a genius.”
    Samir grinned and put a finger to his lips, gesturing over his shoulder with a thumb. In the street, four wagons, loaded to a point where the wood groaned uncomfortably, trundled past with interminable slowness, each drawn by an ox with a stoically resigned expression.
    “Remember. Quiet until we’re left alone. Take only one thing and nothing that will be missed. This is a game; a test… not a theft.”
    Ghassan nodded and pointed.
    “The third wagon. No guards; just a driver.”
    Samir smiled and stepped backwards into the street, hidden from view of