3. Eshe #2
“I saw similar paintings just a moment ago.” The woman covered in jewelry smirked at the merchant and rolled her eyes.
“Maybe try another area,” the man suggested to the merchant.
The woman flipped her black curly hair over her shoulders, and the silver band around her wrist glittered.
“They can’t fool me. It’s the same artist.” The woman laughed, and they continued through the upper-class markets.
“You’re too smart for them to fool.” The man wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her close.
“Oh, look, my love!” The woman raised her brows to the left of her, and they observed the monkey that had been following me since I arrived in Urnaz.
I glanced up at the rooftop to the left and slammed into the jewelry-riddled woman. Nearly falling onto the stone, I grabbed her arm for support.
“Watch where you’re going!” the woman snapped, yanking her arm back. Wrinkling her nose at the man, she muttered, “God, these people stink.”
I proceeded through the upper market, and the heavy bracelets dangling in my cloak’s pocket slithered between my fingers.
I pulled them out and tilted my head. Three gold bracelets.
One of them had a green gem in the center.
I slicked them through my wrist and strutted through the upper streets, popping mixed nuts into my mouth.
They can’t fool me, my ass.
The arena was south of the city center on the right side, so I browsed through the upper market as I made my way to it.
The fights would be starting soon, and I hoped I would find one, if not both, of my targets.
It was interesting because fights were not particularly an upper-class activity and were highly frowned upon.
Deagal was right. The fact that Ezra attended these fights was unusual.
But I supposed as Qahl, he could do whatever he wanted.
The small bag of nuts did nothing to satiate me. My stomach growled as I approached an elderly woman selling small cheese bread balls. Her eyes had a film over them, and she was looking about as if people were in front of her.
“I’d like three, please,” I said.
The woman glanced at me. She could see, just not that well.
“Ten kints,” the woman said, missing nearly all her teeth.
I dropped one of the gold bracelets into her penny basket.
“Thank you,” I mumbled as I stuffed my mouth and descended the next staircase leading out of the upper market.
“Girl!” I heard the woman croak after me.
The sun was still shining brightly when I arrived at the gates of the arena, but it might as well have been the middle of the night.
I was exhausted. Down an empty alleyway, I disguised myself in my male persona by wrapping my scarf around my face and securing my hair back, relying on my loose tunic to make my figure more ambiguous.
Stepping back in line, I studied the covered seating area where the common people began to pile in for the fights.
Just across the arena and above to the left was a raised platform created for the Qahl to sit with his subjects.
Ezra wasn’t there, nor was anyone else. My pounding heart slowed.
I wondered for a moment if he was going to show up tonight.
The fights were about to start, from the looks of it.
There were several men in the arena throwing punches and swinging kicks by the time I handed the guard thirty kints to enter. I needed Ezra to show up. I needed information on where he went and what he did. An assassination might not happen tonight, but the more information I attained, the better.
Watching the men fight from the first row of the arena sent a wonderful thrill coursing through my body. Blood splattered from a man’s face as he took a punch from another. He delivered his own charge with a low kick to the side knee. The other man buckled when he received a fist in his nose.
He howled, and a crack echoed through the arena. His nose was definitely broken.
Meanwhile, another two were fighting closer on my left. They were dancing around each other more than anything. I heard complaints from the surrounding crowd.
“We aren’t here to watch Priestels, you fucking pussies!”
“Get out of here!”
My eyes darted back to the platform to my left, and my toes began to tap on the low wooden platform we stood on.
The two men who won their rounds received an outburst of cheers from the bloodthirsty crowds, and purses of coins were given to them. They pumped their fists in the air as the other two men who had lost were dragged out of the arena, unconscious.
I licked my lips. I wondered what it would be like to exchange different techniques. What could I learn from these men?
An announcer held his hand up to the crowd, silencing them. He was a tall man who had a trimmed beard and was bald with a thick middle. “Rageed will not be playing tonight as he has not fully recovered from last week.”
The crowd booed, and a few stood to leave the wooden platforms while throwing food into the arena.
“We are looking for a man to replace him. Do we have any volunteers?” he shouted.
He raised his arms beside him as he took a spin, eyeing the common people. He lifted his brows with a cocky grin across his face.
Tempting. Ezra wasn’t here, and I could use the practice.
My boot tapped on the platform. I shouldn’t…
But I could, I sang in my head.
My lips turned upward, and I jumped down the steps to the center of the arena.