Treachery In The Marketplace


The man in the marketplace grinned, showing his blackened teeth. “Trust,” he urged in a drawl. “It’s good. No worries. You be happy. Pay now.” He held out his hand, expecting the gold. I needed the map, it was true. But this was a fake, I felt it in my bones. The man stepped closer, trying to impose his will, his arm around my shoulder. I shook it away. “Give money now,” the man said. His voice had become threatening, giving me no choice. I stuck my knife under his ribs, into his heart, took the map and ran.

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