‘I have money.’
The last offer caught at Hakiem’s attention like a magnet. His eyes fastened
hungrily on the copper coin extended in a grubby hand. That coin and four of its
brothers would buy him a bottle of wine.
Where the boy had gotten it mattered not – he had probably stolen it. What
concerned Hakiem was how to transfer the wealth from the boy to himself. He
considered taking it by force, but decided against it. The bazaar was rapidly
filling with people, and open bullying of children would doubtless draw
repercussions. Besides, the nimble urchins could outrun him with ease. He would
just have to earn it honestly. Disgusting, the depths to which he had sunk.
‘Very well, Ran-tu,’ he smiled extending his hand. ‘Give me the money, and you
shall have any story you wish.’
‘After I hear the story,’ the boy announced haughtily. ‘You shall have the coin
… if I feel the story is worth it. It is the custom.’
‘So it is.’ Hakiem forced a smile. ‘Come, sit here beside me so you can hear
every detail.’
The boy did as he was told, blissfully unaware that he was placing himself
within Hakiem’s long, quick reach.
‘Now then, Ran-tu, what story do you wish to hear?’
‘Tell us about the history of our city,’ the boy chirped, forgetting his
pretended sophistication for the moment.
Hakiem grimaced, but the other boys jumped and clapped their hands with
enthusiasm. Unlike Hakiem, they never tired of hearing this tale.
‘Very well,’ Hakiem sighed. ‘Make room here!’ ‘
He shoved roughly at the forest of small legs before him, clearing a small space