Page 35 of The King of Koraha
Shyla turned to Rendor. “I’m surprised you don’t already know how to do that.”
He grinned. “I don’t need to know. If I want in, I just break the door.”
“Even the ones made of thick glass or stone?”
“Every door has a weakness. But there are times when it would be good to know how to get in without letting the owners know you’re there.”
“Thinking of starting a new career as a thief?” she teased.
“No, but if this consulting business continues—”
“It won’t. After this, we’ll continue on our way.” Shyla kept her tone firm even though emotions twisted in her chest. What if the King changed his mind and insisted she work for him? It’d be like swearing an oath to the monks. She’d lose the freedom she’d finally earned.
“Got it!” Hakana slid the door aside in triumph.
Yiesha stood on the other side. Her eyeglasses now hung around her neck. The older woman was a few centimeters shorter than Shyla. Her pure white hair had been wound into a large bun on top of her head. She held a cane but didn’t lean on it. Shyla suspected it was either for show or a weapon. Like the one Shyla used that had a knife hidden in the handle.
“Don’t stand there staring, come on in,” Yiesha said. “Except you, Hakana.” She handed her a few coins. “Go buy me more velbloud yarn, please. You know the thickness I like.”
Hakana glanced at them, seeking permission.
“Go on,” Rendor said, shooing her away.
Yiesha then led Shyla and Rendor to a sitting room filled with bright-colored cushions. Druk lanterns hung from the walls. And while the décor reflected a person who had extra coins to spend on higher quality goods, it matched what the others living in the mid-levels could afford. In other words, no expensive items that might point to Yiesha as the tax thief.
The advisor leaned on her cane as she settled on a blue cushion with white stripes. Shyla chose a pretty orange one with gold tassels.
“Don’t hover, Captain,” Yiesha said, waving at Rendor with her cane. When he sat on a large oval pillow, she asked them, “Are you here to accuse me of stealing?”
“No. We’re here to ask you some questions,” Shyla said, lowering her mental shield in order to read the woman. Yiesha’s surface emotions flipped between annoyance and curiosity—both in equal measure.
“And you have new questions to ask? Ones that Najib hasn’t already asked me?”
“Probably not,” Shyla said.
“Then why are you wasting my time?”
“Do you have something else to do?” Rendor asked.
“I’ve knitting to do.” She picked up a half-finished sun cloak then put her glasses on and showed the needles wrapped with loops of yarn. “See? And sitting on my balcony to watch the shoppers below,” she shot back with thick sarcasm. “I’m a busy person, Captain.”
“Then we won’t take long,” he said in a reasonable tone. “Can you tell us what happens when the taxes arrive from a city?”
Her sigh, while exaggerated, didn’t quite match her annoyance. She took off her glasses and rubbed her eyes. Yes, she was irritated, but Shyla sensed that she was also intrigued. And happy to have some company—
Hakana’s visits were too infrequent. “When the taxes arrive, one of the monks escorting the wagons reports to the castle guards.”
“Monks?” Shyla asked.
“Yes, monks,” Yiesha snapped. “They work for the King and they’re well trained. Of course they’d be the ones to guard the tax caravan.”
Yet another secret about the monks Hanif hadn’t shared with Shyla. She wondered if she’d ever learn all the things they did without becoming a monk.
“I sent a few of my men along with the monks as backup,” Rendor said. “They never reported any trouble.”
“Of course not. Sand pirates are stupid, but not stupid enough to attack monks.”
According to Lota, they were cowards and stole goods during darkness. But what about the mercenaries? They were smarter, but could they overwhelm the monks? Even if they had, the news would eventually reach the castle.
