Ilika barely slept that night, awakening to every little noise in the marketplace, every creak and knock elsewhere in the building. As dawn crept into the sky, he lay awake, hands behind his head, brow wrinkled in thought.
Suddenly, just before the sun rose, he hopped out of bed and dressed quickly, slipped what he needed into a pocket, and bounded down the stairs.
Stepping into the kitchen, he motioned for the innkeeper and his wife and children to gather around. Sata set down her knife, and her older brother looked up from stirring the porridge.
“I do not know exactly why, but one of the religious orders is looking for me. I don’t like them, and don’t want them to find me.” He pulled four small coins from his pocket. “If I could finish my business in this city without them finding out where I am staying, it would be worth these coins to me, one for each of you, on top of my payments for your services.”
All four pairs of eyes were big and round. Smiles and nods told him they planned to earn the gleaming gold pieces.
Before leaving the kitchen, Ilika got a bowl of porridge to take up to his room. His cup of fruit juice arrived soon after, and Sata was as happy as ever to receive a copper piece for her errand.
As he took thoughtful spoonfuls of his cereal, he slowly began to relax and unwind from his restless night. The fruit juice was sweet and red, and as he swirled it in his mug, a mischievous smile replaced his frown.
After eating, he padded down the stairs and slipped out the back door of the inn. His knowledge of the streets and alleys allowed him to arrive at the large clothing shop on Market Way without being seen by anyone but a pair of laborers carrying wooden crates.
After picking out a common design worn by many merchants, and selecting a fabric, he left to give the tailor time to make his new garments.
Following directions given by the tailor’s wife, he soon found the hairdresser and asked about getting his pale hair dyed a darker color. When they informed him it would take several hours, he smiled and sat down in the chair.
Shortly after the noon hour, a black-haired young gentleman stepped up to the bakery counter wearing a deep blue tunic, wide belt, and matching pants, all framed by a sturdy brown cloak. As his new clothes had no pockets, he pulled a copper piece from a leather money pouch. “A tart please, Tori, and two for the children.”
Recognizing the voice, the baker gave his customer a second look, then burst out laughing. “Your own mother would not know you!”
“Good. It was time for a change.”
“Plum tarts today, fresh out of the oven.”
Ilika took a bite of the warm pastry. “Excellent, as always! May I ask you another question about the people of this city?”
“Of course! A good customer is welcome to what little knowledge I have.”
“This might be a question without an easy answer . . . perhaps without any answer. But I’d value your opinion.”
“Ask
away!”
“If there were some adventurous young people who were so smart they wouldn’t like the strict policies of the religious orders, couldn’t stand the narrow structure of the guilds, refused to be hidden away in the back of a shop, and weren’t rich enough to attend the college, where would they be found?”
The baker thought about the question for a long time. His wife brought him a large ball of bread dough and he began silently kneading.
Eventually Ilika opened his mouth to rephrase the question, but the baker
spoke first.
“You are right — it is a hard question. But here’s my answer, for what it’s worth. People like that would easily get into trouble, and quickly wind up as slaves.”
An expression of utter astonishment came to Ilika for a moment, then he burst out laughing.
The baker, dividing the dough into loaves, spoke without looking up. “I knew my answer to your question wouldn’t be worth much.”
“Actually . . . I think you might be right, and I would not have realized it without your help. Thank you!” he said, and laid a silver piece on the counter.
“That’ll buy many tarts, Master Loki!”
“For the children!” Ilika yelled happily as he dashed off across the plaza.
His mind was elsewhere as he entered the front door of the inn, but the look on Mosa’s face, from behind the reception counter, instantly caused him to freeze. Beside her, Doko was talking to a man who had his back to the door, a man wearing the robes and symbols of a religious order.
“. . . and it is very critical that we find him, as he left something of great value at the order . . .”
Ilika shook his head with a frown, and the matron’s slight nod told him she understood. His right hand moved toward his bracelet for a moment, then retreated. Instead, he took a deep breath and walked right past the man and strode down the corridor toward the stairs.
“Please send word to the order at once if you should see this man. We would be most appreciative.”
“We would be happy to help, but he doesn’t sound like anyone we have seen,” the innkeeper said as he glanced at the dark-haired man in blue rapidly vanishing up the stairs.
Once Ilika was safely in his room, stretched out on his bed, he sighed as his racing heart slowly relaxed, then started chuckling.
Not much later, Doko came by the room to compliment Ilika on his excellent and timely disguise.
Ilika spent the remainder of the day asking questions about slaves, about
the circumstances that could lead to slavery, and about the slave market. He asked the innkeeper when he was served lunch in his room. He asked the tailor when he went to pick up his extra tunic and pants. He asked a friendly guard in the marketplace. And he asked the baker when he stopped by for a tart.
The situations that could land a person in slavery were almost too many to remember, but few of them had anything to do with criminal behavior. The poor were in greater danger, as their poverty itself was nearly sufficient.
Being alone for almost any reason could be used as an excuse. Even just clumsiness in the wrong situation might do the trick.
He looked around for slaves he could talk to, but whenever in public, they were always pressed into continuous work, and well guarded.
Deep Learning Notes
The experience of being followed caused a major change of attitude to come over Ilika. How would you describe it?
Bribery is uncommon in our lives, and often illegal, although it is still widely practiced at some levels of society. It is quite normal in poorer cultures, and little gets done without it.
The baker, and everyone else, seem to be speaking normal English now. Have they changed the way they speak since the beginning of the story?
Why did Ilika not think to look in the slave market, until now, for the people he wanted to hire?
What qualities or circumstances do you, or your friends, have that could land you in slavery in that medieval kingdom?
NEBADOR Book One: The Test 42
