Page 38 of The Eyes of Tamburah
One older man stood and approached her. His stained gray tunic hung on his gaunt frame. Rips in his pants exposed both his bony knees. “Ah, it’s the sun-kissed. We wondered when you would show up.”
“You’ve been expecting me?” she asked.
“Since you arrived in Zirdai, but with the recent rumors that you’re wanted for theft, we figured we’d see you very soon.”
Interesting. Although their information was a couple sun jumps old, they weren’t as isolated as she thought.
“You cannot stay here,” he continued. “We do not harbor criminals.”
“You don’t?” She cocked her head, scanning the ragtag group behind him. Living in Zirdai without paying the fees was a criminal activity.
He stiffened. “Not ones that are currently being sought by the Water Prince’s goons. You endanger us all.”
Ah. A different degree of illegal. “Then it’s a good thing I’m not planning on staying.”
“Why are you here?”
“I’ve come to purchase knowledge.”
A shrewd gleam shone in his eyes. “Your fancy monastery and snooty intellectual friends don’t have the knowledge you seek?”
This man had an unsettling insight into her life. Except the friends bit. “No. What I need can’t be found in a scroll or scratched into a tablet. It comes from living in Zirdai and knowing all its…secrets.”
He chuckled. “And it would be hard for you to learn those while living up on level three.”
That was just one too many. “How do you know so much about me?”
“You stand out, sun-kissed. The moment you arrived, you caused a stir. Bets were made on how long you’d stay, how long until you joined us, how long before you were chased away or arrested or taken by the deacons—the fates of the three other sun-kissed who came to Zirdai during my lifetime. I must admit, you exceeded everyone’s expectations.”
“Glad I could provide such extended entertainment,” she said.
Not bothered by her sarcasm, he asked, “What secrets do you seek?”
Keeping a close eye on his expression, she said, “The location of the black river.” The request caused a rumble of noise from the others, but the old man’s countenance didn’t change.
“What do you offer in exchange?”
She considered. He didn’t say he had it. “As long as the information is accurate, I’ve coin.”
“How much?”
“Oh no, I’m not falling for that. Do you know where the black river is?”
He hesitated.
“It’s a yes or no answer,” she prompted.
“No, but I can point you in the right direction,” he hedged.
Shyla muttered a curse. “Let me guess…the direction is…down.”
Tsking, he said, “There’s no reason to be nasty. We’re being polite despite the fact that we can take your coin and toss your ass out into the desert.”
And there it was. The ruffians moved closer to her. Good. Then they’d hear her response. “You believe that you have the upper hand. You don’t.” Confidence could be an effective way to avoid a fight. Too bad this wasn’t one of those times.
The leader flicked his fingers. The ring of young men tightened. Shyla spun, knocking into the skinny guy on the left—the weakest link. Off-balance, the guy stumbled back, and she followed. Hooking an arm around his neck, she trapped his head under her arm then turned to the others, dragging him with her.
His frightened face stared up at her as he tried to wiggle free. But with being bent over backward, he had no leverage. She squeezed his throat to remind him of who was in charge and he stilled. Smart.
