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   Chapter 171 No.171

The WeatherMaker - Prince of Light By Lady Lilium Characters: 5635

Updated: 2018-07-11 19:02


The second he let go of the cloak, several of the guards around him relaxed slightly.

Durril quickly turned to Cam then, placing an arm around his shoulders and walking swiftly with him out of the courtyard.

When they found a secluded alleyway away from the crowd, Durril let go of Cam.

Cam fell to his knees, body hunched over and hand clapped over his mouth as he struggled to control his breathing, tears still shining in his eyes.

From behind him Durril watched calmly as Cam's shoulders shook, wracked with sobs. He took out a pipe from the inside pocket of his coat and lit it, taking a deep pull, before sighing out the smoke.

'Are you ok?' he spoke after a time, speaking to Cam's back.

Cam lowered his hands from his mouth, rising to stand.

'Yes' he whispered. 'I'm…I'm sorry….it's the soldiers…they scare me…'

Durril finished with his pipe, putting it out before replacing it in his inner coat pocket.

'Come on' Durril said. 'We've got an appointment. This is a rare opportunity for you. You're going to lead the deal. Do you think you can do it?'

'Do you think I can do it?' Cam asked him.

'My friend' Durril beamed. 'I have every confidence in you.' He slapped him on the shoulder hard to bring him around. 'Just watch that stutter' he informed him. 'Yeah?'

'Yeah' Cam nodded. 'I'll try.'

A short while later they made their appointment, finding themselves in a small room. Through the many arches that surrounded them could be seen the streets beyond, where there were more stalls, more people, and more money changing hands.

Cam sat on a large green cushion on the floor with his legs crossed; behind him Durril waited on a similar cushion, and before them facing them both and waiting patiently, were their sellers. A fat man richly dressed with a turban sat at the front, either side of him sat two younger men, slimmer though just as finely dressed; their black hair was short and handsome. And behind all three of them, was a younger woman, sitting with her head bowed. She was well dressed in orange and yellow colours, though she was not as well dressed as the others. Cam thought that perhaps this was a servant, and the younger men were the son of the fat man who sat at the front. Cam noticed that the men before him sat on dark purple cushions, the women behind them sat on a light purple cushion. Cam wondered briefly if there was some significance to these colours, but his thoughts were broken suddenly when the fat man spoke.

'Ten thousand' he said.

'It's too much' Cam replied quickly and calmly, never missing a beat. He acted bold despite his nerves.

'Nine and a half thousand' the fat man said.

'Seven thousand.'

The fat man spluttered, shocked to be offered such a low price. He consulted briefly with both of the younger men be

side him, before speaking again.

'Nine thousand two hundred.'

'Seven thousand two hundred' Cam mumbled, narrowing his eyes. He spoke quietly, but everyone around him heard him clearly, and the fat man was getting frustrated. Increase slowly Cam thought. That is what Durril taught me.

Behind him Durril sat in complete silence. Cam was unable to negotiate with him now, he did not have the same privileges here as the fat man did, and there were certain rules to this game that had to be followed.

Cam was on his own. But he had witnessed these meetings many times before to know how they were played; only this time, he was sitting at the front, and not the back.

'Nine thousand' the fat man said, glaring at him.

Cam let a silence pass before speaking, before giving his final offer. It was the rule that the seller accepted the final bid.

'Eight thousand five hundred' Cam said. 'Last call.' If the seller didn't accept the offer now, the game was over.

'Done' the fat man said, and everyone in the room breathed a sigh of relief.

The fat man rose from his cushion and walked away, followed by the servant. The two younger men stayed behind to close the deal and work out the details. Durril at this point took over as Cam watched silently. The three men spoke quickly in hushed voices for about a minute before parting from each other.

'That was well done' Durril said loudly as the two young men walked off. 'I'm proud of you.'

'Was it?' Cam asked tentatively. 'I mean…you are?'

'Yes!' Durril said as if it were obvious. 'Dear boy you need to have more confidence in yourself. You did well today, very well.'

Cam smiled then, becoming a little shy.

'Thanks' he said to his feet.

'Now come' Durril said, putting his arm around Cam's shoulders and walking with him. 'Let's go collect what we've just spent a fortune buying.'

A short while later, and Durril and Cam were standing before a small paddock in the city, beside the two finely dressed young men who waited nearby.

'There they are' Durril stared proudly down at the sheep inside the paddock. 'Beauties aren't they?'

Cam had heard of this breed of sheep before, but he had never seen them with his own eyes. They were called Lheyart sheep. They were small, small enough to hold under one arm. Their thick wool was tightly curled, and metallic-bronze in colour. It took a very long time for the sheep to grow a full coat of wool, which was worth a fortune just for one sheep. Their wool once shorn could be made into the most beautiful garments, scarves and dresses and tail coats. The material was soft and beautiful and looked and felt like silk, but what made it more valuable, was the fact that it was so rare. These sheep were notoriously hard to breed, and their wool took a long time to grow.

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