A Scoundrel's Song

35

Niico had mobilised his most hated enemy. His most irritating foe. His eternal nemeses. People. And, of course, the majority of them didn't do what he wanted them to do. Milling around as usual, making stupid changes of direction, shambling along as though taking a gentle stroll along a beach. But enough had started to take the bait. The crowd heading toward the docks, for the chance of taking a thousand Talons from some idiot foreigner, had started to swell.

He had used two tactics in this brilliant plan. Larissans, though not nearly as bad as Hathbadis, or the stern, pious and, frankly, up-themselves Garthaens, hated foreigners. With a passion. Larissans were a relaxed people, mostly, except when it came to those from outside their normal lives. An almost primal need to prove themselves would wash over Larissans at the thought that someone, somewhere, had it better than them.

The promise of money helped, of course. Not one of those marching toward the docks even considered that a thousand Talons for a foolish challenge wasn't exactly likely. This kind of thinking, that they were smart, and everyone else wasn't, was how Niico had spent his entire life earning money. He made them think they were clever and few ever failed to fall for it. People were stupid. People were easily manipulated. He sometimes thought that, somewhere, deep inside, they had some kind of masochistic need to have someone fool them and Niico never failed to oblige.

"In the crowd! Stay in the crowd and don't wander off!" Still aiding Pelenia, Niico reached across, gripping Akafa's tight clothing. "Akafa! Keep hold of Herit and grab Antioni. We need to ... where's Antioni?"

He had no need to tell Akafa to keep Herit close, that was the big Orususkan's sole purpose in life. To protect his sister at all costs. Protecting Antioni was not part of that, but Akafa looked around for the naive villager, shaking his head before his eyes widened, pointing ahead.

"There! He is at the forefront of the crowd." Akafa's great height gave him the advantage and Niico had to stretch to see above the people. "He is waving. Why is he waving?"

"He's friendly." Niico felt someone clutch at his arm and turned his head to see Hranukyun glaring at him. "What are you still doing here? Go. Be tiny and annoying somewhere else."

"I beats your challenge." That hand, open, awaiting filling, reached upward. "Wants my reward. Double'r nothing you said. Double."

Niico had no time to deal with a stubborn Driadin. As he had looked behind to the Other-Kin, he had caught sight of the pursuing Sisters of the Lady of Bearing. Stalwart, determined, they never slowed down. Never stopped. They would not turn from their task no matter what happened. A Patron commanded them and there was no higher authority. Except for those other Patrons that were higher in the pecking order but, apart from that, there was no higher authority. And also except the dead gods, of course, but, being dead, they had lost much of their authority long ago.

The addition of all the people surrounding them had served, contrary to expectations, to only slow them down, but it had also slowed the progress of the Sisters. The teeming stream of people, passing through the narrow streets in one direction, shuffled along making this less of a pursuit and more of stagnant crawl. They needed to urge people on faster.

"What was that you say? You hear this foreign devil has increased the wager? Why, that is a prize indeed!" He shouted at the top if his lungs toward Akafa who scowled back at him in confusion. "Three thousand Talons! For none has managed to defeat the wily visitor from distant climes. We shall have to push through these people and get to the Salty Sea-Wench before anyone else. Isn't that right, my big, powerful friend that can crush any his path?"

"What?" Akafa saw many eyes turn his way and his confusion grew. "Oh ... uh ... Yes. I can push through these people for three thousand Talons."

The crowd in their immediate vicinity grew quiet for a moment and then their calls and chatter grew to deafening proportions. Elbows were digging into ribs. Hands pushed at faces. Backsides groped, because filthy people took any chance to get their thrills. But the now huge number of people began to push forward with even greater insistence. But, that mad dash opened up spaces as people fell to the ground, trampled upon by the feet of many and Niico cringed at that. He tried not to think about how many may die due to his actions this day. As long as it wasn't him, though, it mattered little.