Mariko Kint watched him from a safe distance, wondering if he had anything on him worth taking.  She took a loaf of bread – freshly stolen from a vagrant Elani traveller – from her pack and thoughtfully tore a bite from it as she watched her target.

      She had been following him through the towns of Langshire for some time now and she noticed with interest that, like her, he avoided public places. He looked like a young Lamya, thin and unkempt with thick black hair but he wore the simple home–spun clothes of an Elani.

      Mariko couldn’t see him carrying any possessions, but that meant very little. He could have Lamya coins sitting in his pocket, ripe for her to take. She finished off her bread and crept forwards, pulling her long–bladed dagger from inside her tatty leather coat. She circled round behind the boy, intently watching his back.

      A twig snapped underfoot and she halted, held her breath and waited for a reaction from the boy.  Receiving none, she carried on.

     As Mariko drew nearer, she realised the boy was sound asleep. Perfect! No need to wake him, just pick his pockets and leave! She stooped opposite him and quietly studied his face. Definitely a Lamya, none of those marks that the Elani bore. She inched closer and reached towards his jacket pocket.

     Suddenly the boy’s eyes snapped open and he raised his head to look at her. Mariko gasped. His eyes were jet black and showed not a hint of white. Mariko raised her dagger and struck him hard across his face with the pommel, knocking him flat to the ground where she quickly knelt on his back to keep him there.

     The boy drew his hands beneath him to raise himself up but Mariko gave him another sound clout with her dagger.

     “Stop that!” she said irritably. She threw her pack from her shoulder and fished inside for a piece of rope to bind his hands behind his back. Once she had done that she hauled him roughly to his feet and prodded him none too gently in the ribs. “Well now. You are interesting! Get moving, back to the track wiv ya or you’ll feel the blade of Mariko Kint!”

     Mariko pushed the boy ahead of her out of the trees and back onto the track. She considered going back to Langshire with the boy before deciding that she’d follow the track and see where she’d end up. 

    The boy took another step before he groaned and fell to the ground with a soft thud. He rolled onto his side and looked up at his captor with his black eyes.  “Please, I must rest. Please . . .”

    Mariko kicked him irritably, twirled her long coat out behind her and sat her self by the roadside, leaning back comfortably against a moss strewn rock. She opened her pack and drew out a canteen of water, taking a long drink as she eyed the boy suspiciously.

    “What do you want from me?” asked the boy, struggling to his knees. “I am worth nothing to you.  You must let me go!”

    Mariko snorted softly. She wasn’t stupid. She knew well enough that this was no ordinary Lamya boy and that there may well be people who’d pay handsomely for an oddity such as he. She gazed at him thoughtfully, shook her head and said nothing.

©  E.J. Tett 2009

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