Despite how early in the day it was, the trade district of Milagre was already flourishing with business. Not only was the actual market itself packed, but the streets around it were swarming with shoppers. People of all kinds were streaming through the streets, in search of both staple goods and exotic wares. This was the special weekly market, where you could purchase things not normally available during other days or from the normal shops in Milagre.

As always when he visited the market, Enri heard many different tongues being spoken. They talked with each other, laughed and argued with each other, and inquired about wares, and Enri understood nothing of what they said. The violent array of colors and languages always gave him the sensation of traveling to another country without leaving his hometown. Being the capital of Tyrman, Milagre was home to a huge trading economy. Rumors said that the port city of Sheran was even bigger, but he’d never seen it with his own eyes.

Barely audible above the cacophony of the crowd, the cries of the vendors faintly reached Enri’s ears. This was their day to shine, after all, and they wanted people to know what they had to offer. It was said that thousands of gold coins changed hands in the weekly markets, and the sheer attendance seemed to lend credence to the words.

As Enri swept his eyes over the brightly colored stalls and people, he began to familiarize himself with the chaotic sprawl of the market. He always did this before he really plunged into it. It was a useful trick to help him keep his surroundings so that he didn’t lose his way, his purse, or worse, his life. Some might find this funny, but he knew all too well that crowds this large and excited could instantly turn into a deadly stampede.

He spotted marshals walking through the crowd every few feet, easily identifiable by their bright tunics and chainmail. marshals were the more experienced or skilled members of the Milagre Town Guard, hand-picked for their alertness and ability to quickly react to any situation. They were on the lookout for pickpockets and thieves that inevitably worked the crowd. A large mass of people like this, distracted by their shopping, was a tempting target for those with light fingers and empty bellies. The marshals wanted to ensure that the shoppers could enjoy a day out, do some trading, and make it home safely, still with their remaining coin.

One such marshal glanced over at Enri standing still and nodded. The gesture was cordial enough, but it also made it clear that he was watching him. He supposed that in the constantly moving crowd, he was a suspicious figure for merely standing still. Shrugging to himself, Enri slipped into the crowd, moving with the flow as he looked around at the vendor stalls. As he walked, he became aware of the tiniest disruption to the smooth movement of the crowd, and it drew his attention.

Unbeknownst to the marshal that had acknowledged him, a figure in a dull cloak was shadowing his movements. The figure walked swiftly yet inconspicuously, making sure to stay out of the marshal’s field of vision. It had been a while since he last saw one, but he knew immediately who the figure was. The thieves in the crowd were at the guard’s mercy without support, and so Enforcers were stationed within the crowd. They were devout followers of Atlas, the God of Thieves and Beggars, and it was their job to support the lower-ranked thieves in the crowd. They did this in two main ways.

The Enforcers were to keep tabs on marshals, in order to carve a safe path for the thieves to move and lend a hand if one of the thieves was spotted and needed a chance to escape. They also scanned the crowd themselves from time to time, in order to mark targets. The Enforcers rarely resorted to violence to accomplish their goals, and as such, were not outright hunted. What they did was clearly illegal, but their care and grace allowed them a certain amount of tolerance in the eye of the law.

Despite the shocking number of thieves in the crowd, the guards had no cause to fear for their lives. They too had a support network in place, and it was just as complex and in-depth as the one that helped the thieves. The movement of thieves and guards had always interested Enri. It brought to mind two great beasts of power, equally terrifying in their potential, circling around each other and making small little advances, but never moving towards outright bloodshed. In his eyes, it was a perfect balance, one that he always enjoyed observing.

These thoughts flashed through Enri’s mind as he watched the Enforcer tail the marshal. They were very good. They didn’t waste any movement or patch of cover as they moved, and they were quite skilled at blending in with the crowd. Tracking their progress was much like trying to track a shadow in a dark forest. As the Enforcer drew closer, they were revealed to be a slim female, half-elf by the look of her. She looked young, but she showed no sign of self-confidence or inexperience.

The Enforcer seemed to sense someone watching her, and turned to stare at Enri. He stopped in surprise and was promptly shoved to the side by the flow of traffic. The elf girl flashed a mischievous grin at him, making her look remarkably pretty for someone who spent her life in such a dangerous job. Enri raised an eyebrow, not taken in for a second by her charm. She was obviously trying to fluster or distract him, and he’d be damned if he fell for such an obvious trick. Her grin widened further into real amusement at the stony look on his face, and she began moving towards him.

The crowd she moved through seemed to take no notice of her movement. She slipped through the mass of bodies like a light, silent breeze through the trees. Enri actually lost sight of her halfway through, due to her superb ability to blend with the movement of the crowd. He only caught sight of her again when she popped out of the stream of people and came to a stop beside him. Looking her over quickly, he noticed that she stood on the balls of her feet, as if ready for instant action. There was a dagger in its sheath slung at her side, and he could just barely identify the print of another long knife, stashed under her tunic.

“You’ve got pretty sharp eyes for a soldier, Maravino.” Her voice, complete with barely suppressed amusement, brought him back to the present situation. “Not many people could have picked me out, let alone a guard.”

Enri wondered briefly how she could have known that he was Maravino but shrugged the thought away quickly. He’d been training nearly three whole years and had taken part in many training patrols, so it was only normal that someone would remember seeing him in uniform.

“Just because I’m a fighter, doesn’t mean that I don’t have eyes.”

 

She laughed softly. “Everyone has eyes, soldier. That doesn’t necessarily mean that they know how to use them.”

Enri shrugged again. “That may be true, but it’s unwise to just assume that guards don’t know what they’re looking for.”

She nodded begrudging acceptance of his point. “So you spotted me. Planning on trying to stop me? Or perhaps you’re thinking of reporting me to that marshal I’m stalking?”

Enri shook his head. “I’m just in the market to get some gear for my trip. I couldn’t care less about what you’re up to. Unless you’re planning on marking me, of course.”

She tilted her head to the side slightly, sizing him up in her own turn. She shook her head slowly. “No, I don’t think so. You’re no nobleman, soldier. The little ones wouldn’t last long on your purse.”

She continued to grin widely at him, seeing if she could spot some kind of reaction. Realizing what she was up to, he maintained his cool, impassive expression. This was a silent test of wills, and he determined that he would not crack first. This only seemed to amuse her further, however.

“I thought it was part of the Maravino’s job to report us when we’re spotted. Or is my information wrong?”

Enri shook his head. “No, you’re quite right. But I’m not Maravino anymore. I’ve got a new job as of today. Still, even if I were still Maravino, I’m not stupid enough to act against you., since I haven’t spotted your lookout yet.”

This last statement was a test on his part. He’d heard rumors that each group of Enforcers was watched over by yet another person, who could raise the alarm if one was sniffed out. They would send in hired muscle to aid in the thief’s escape, and if necessary, would use their own deadly skill. He’d never seen or heard any proof to support the rumor, but it was something he was curious about.

Her eyes widened slightly, but it was only a slight flicker of emotion before she resumed her own mask of playful mischief. Enri noticed the slip, however, and he felt a little more confident in the exchange.

“So it’s not just your eyes that work.” Yet again, the fact that he knew this one little secret, or appeared to, seemed to interest and amuse her.

She seemed to shrug slightly in her own turn, and her stance relaxed slightly. She breathed in a deep sigh, then swiped a hand across her forehead. At first, he thought it was a movement to brush her hair out of her face, but he quickly changed his mind. It was an unnecessary movement in the first place, as her white hair was pulled back into a ponytail.

It suddenly occurred to him that it must have been a signal of some kind. Wondering briefly who or what it was meant for, as well as its purpose, he suddenly felt less sure of his standing. Almost unconsciously, his eyes flicked left and right, scanning his surroundings. The girl noticed the movement and laughed out loud.

“Well well well. It seems that you have some nerves after all!” She chuckled as she shook her head at him. “Don’t worry, I’m just letting them know that you’re no threat.”

It could have been another mistruth, but he didn’t think so. Despite the fact that she was a stranger, and employed in such a shady business, Enri was fairly certain that she was telling the truth. He relaxed his stance to match her. “What would the signal be if you thought I was a threat?”

A sly smile touched the half-elf girl’s lips. “You’ll never know. That’s a secret signal, that is. Even if you did see it, you wouldn’t be awake long enough to figure out it’s meaning.”

Enri raised an eyebrow slightly. The words may have been delivered in a friendly tone, but the threat and message were obvious. She was telling him that it was in his best interest not to pry.

“Well, that’s a pleasant thought.” He said dryly. The Enforcer smirked at his reply, understanding his own return message, that he agreed to leave the information gathering at that. She turned away from him and gave a small wave of farewell.

“Well then. Until we meet next time, soldier.” Within seconds, she was swallowed up by the crowd. Try though he might, Enri couldn’t spot her. He stared at the spot at which he last saw her, silently marveling at her skill. He wondered if it was normal for enforcers to stop and chat with people. Surely they were kept too busy for such luxuries.

He shrugged once more. Odds were that he’d soon forget her. There really was no point in pondering further. He might be a curious and inquisitive person, but he was able to recognize when something was a waste of his time. He began to move with the crowd again, his attention once more upon the stalls.

He continued down the main trading road, sticking to the edge of the crowd to allow him to move more quickly. After a few minutes, he became aware that the crowd was thinning slightly, and he was able to see the stalls around him more clearly. Not long after, he spotted his first destination. A blacksmith had set up their stall a fair distance away from the others so that the smoke from the forge wouldn’t bother the other vendors or patrons.

As Enri drew closer to the stall, he noticed that the person tending the stall wasn’t the average burly man, but a slender woman. By the look of her, she was aged around forty years. Most likely the blacksmith’s wife, Enri decided. The forge was currently off, and there was no smell of lingering smoke, so he surmised that today they were more focused on selling wares instead of crafting. The table in front of the woman was laden with weapons of all kinds, shining brightly as the early day sun reflected off of treated blades and polished sheaths. It was all very fine craft, he saw at a glance. Being rather low on funds, he was reluctant to stop at this stall. He couldn’t afford fine craft.

Enri was about to turn away and look for another booth, one more friendly to his small coin purse, when the woman caught his eye and smiled in welcome. 

 

“What can I do for you, your honor?” The woman’s voice was soft and smooth, but there was just the slightest hint of a Welsik accent. Hearing it, Enri shifted uncomfortably.

He was even less inclined to buy a weapon here. Smiths from the Welsik Isles were regarded the world around as the best. Those who perfected their craft and journeyed to the other nations were a cut above the rest. They were those whose craft was legendary, sought after by the richest and most skilled fighters. Some of the best weapons in history were rumored to have been crafted in Welsik.

Enri dipped his head briefly in a sign of apology. “Sorry, I’m just looking for equipment. But I cannot hope to afford Welsik craft. Apologies for wasting your time, Madam Smith.”

The corners of the woman’s mouth turned down slightly, in a frown of disapproval. “What makes you think I’m one of them fancy merchants that charge sacks of gold for my work?” Her tone was polite but still sharp. “I’m an honest merchant, young man. I won’t have you thinking otherwise.”

Enri was taken aback by her direct reply. Simple politeness aside, he was used to people avoiding him when given the option. The fact that the woman spoke so plainly to him, a total stranger, was a new experience. It was so unexpected, he was stopped in his tracks. Worried that he had caused some offense, he bowed hurriedly.

“My apologies, madam. It was not my intent to insult you or your craft.”

When he looked up at her again, he saw that she was smiling slightly. There was a faint light of triumph in her eyes, and the thought occurred to Enri that she was teasing him. His sense of embarrassment heightened.

“Well then. Since you apologized, I suppose that’s alright. No harm done. So, back to business. What sort of equipment are you looking for?”

Enri hesitated a moment longer, staring at the shining collection of masterwork weapons in front of him. Then, with an inward sigh that the woman didn’t notice, he stepped forward to examine the weapons on display more closely. There was a decent variety, ranging from ordinary short swords to more exotic weapons, like a falchion. There was even an excellent looking halberd laid across the length of the table, the point wickedly sharp and gleaming.

As he looked over the weapons, his eyes came to rest on a more simple piece. It was a slender blade, judging by the finely polished leather sheath it was in. It was nowhere as thin as the rapier that he had wielded for most of his training, but it still looked light. Like most of the weapons the woman offered for sale, it looked simple enough but still elegant. He began to reach out a hand for the weapon but stopped. He knew it was rude to pick up merchandise without permission.

He glanced back up at the woman. “May I?”

She nodded her approval, so he picked up the slender blade. It felt as light as a feather in his hand. He slowly drew it from the sheath, noting the even sequence of repeating half circles along the spine of the blade. Once the blade was fully drawn, he gave it a few experimental swings, feeling the balance of it. He shook his head in silent admiration. It was a fine weapon. Once again, he wondered at how such a simple blade could be so elegant. Now that the weapon was in the open, he realized why it looked so familiar.

It closely resembled an estoc, but considerably shorter. He knew that the estoc was a favorite amongst the warriors of Attos, a military nation to the far west. An estoc was a long blade, averaging about five feet in length, and designed for piercing heavy armor. The blade in his hand, however, was just under forty inches long, much closer to a long sword than the giant blade that Attosian soldiers favored.

Reluctantly, he slid the blade back into its sheath, and set it back down on the table.

“It’s a fine blade, madam. You are a true master of your craft.”

She offered a graceful curtsy in response to his compliment. “You are too kind, your honor. I will make sure to pass your praise on to my husband. I’m glad the blade is to your liking.”

Enri drew breath to ask for the price of the blade, against his better judgment, when something distracted him. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a brief flicker of movement. The movement was out of place in the natural surroundings by just a bit, and his eyes narrowed in suspicion.

Without warning, Enri darted forward. His hand shot out and grabbed the collar of a young boy, just barely stopping him from reaching out into a small chest behind the woman. It was obviously the box where the woman kept her coin. The boy, caught off guard by Enri’s sudden movement, let out a slight cry of shock. He immediately began to wriggle, but Enri’s grip on his collar was firm, preventing him from escaping.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Enri asked the boy, his voice stern. Now that he could see the boy more clearly, he was able to take in his clothing, patched in several places. The boy himself was extremely thin, and he had a look of faint malnourishment about him. The boy stopped trying to escape from his grasp and looked up at Enri fearfully.

“I ain’t doin nuthin!” His voice rang with the faint accent of an uneducated child, whose parents never had the coin for formal education. “Let me, go, I beg you!”

A few people in the crowd looked around as the boy cried out, seeking the source of the commotion. They saw Enri, holding the small child by the collar of his shirt, and they glared at him in silent judgment. He paid them no mind. The woman, who was also surprised by Enri’s sudden and abrupt movement, was glancing uneasily at the would-be thief that Enri had captured. Enri himself thought quickly, trying to think of a way to resolve the situation quickly and without causing more trouble.

Out of the corner of his eye, he became aware of an Enforcer coming towards him. They had obviously spotted that one of their thieves was in trouble, and was moving in to assist the boy. Cursing mentally, Enri released his grip on the boy’s collar. He reached into his pack and pulled out a silver half royal, then tossed it at the young boy.

“Run along. These people are doing honest business, and they don’t need your sticky fingers muddlin’ their affairs.” Without really meaning to, he allowed the same cant to enter his tone. The boy caught the coin before it could fall to the ground, and looked at him in surprise. Obviously, he wasn’t used to people like Enri knowing how to speak like a gutter rat.

The boy lowered his eyes and tucked the coin into his tunic out of sight. He ran back into the crowd, not sparing a single glance beside him. The Enforcer, seeing that Enri had released the lad, also melted back into the crowd, and Enri lost sight of him.

The woman, who finally seemed to have caught up on what had transpired, heaved a sigh of relief. She turned to Enri, and gave him another curtsy, much deeper this time.

“Thank you, young sir. My husband would not have been happy if our profits for the day had been stolen.”

Enri made a brief gesture dismissing the woman’s gratitude. “It was nothing madam. They have other ways of filling their bellies, and they have no need to pilfer your coin.”

The woman still looked uneasy, and shifted the small chest to a nearby crate, then closed it. She stood awkwardly for a moment more, then seemed to come to a decision.

“You must let me thank you properly. I’ll offer you a discount on the blade, in return for the debt.”

Enri hesitated. He always felt awkward when people insisted on thanking him for doing what he considered to be his job. But a small, honest part of him encouraged him to accept her offer.

“That would be appreciated, madam. It is a fine blade, and I would be doing you a disservice by passing the opportunity to acquire such an item.”

The woman blushed slightly but smiled warmly all the same. She pulled a piece of oilcloth from under her stall and wrapped the slender blade in it. “That will be just 5 royals, sir.”

Enri just managed to avoid whistling in surprise. He knew she was greatly underselling her work, but didn’t wish to embarrass her any further. He fished 5 gold coins out of his pack and placed them on the table before her. She swept them quickly into her hand, then squirreled them away into a pocket of her apron. Enri grabbed the blade and placed it inside his pack, then slung it back over his shoulder.

“Thank you very much for your offer, madam. May I ask your name, so I can refer people to you?”

The woman’s smile was a tad shy as she responded. “My name is Aideen Walsh. And may I know the name of the young man who has saved me much trouble today?”

Enri smiled slightly as he dipped his head in acknowledgment. “Certainly. I am Enri, of the family Ciayol.”

The woman reacted like most do when they heard the Ciayol family name. Her responding curtsy was much deeper than before. “It is an honor to have my humble craft appreciated by one such as yourself.”

Enri made a gesture of depreciation. “I’m nobody important, Madam Walsh. Good day to you, and good luck with your affairs.”

She gave a small wave as he left. “And you as well, sir.”