Hal - The Duellist #1

Chapter Thirteen - The Shark's Tooth

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"How much is this one?"

The stall tender took the pendant from Hal's fingers, scrutinised it and then passed it back. "Well now, that one is special."

"Obviously. They're all special. How much is it?"

Hal was growing fractious. She had set her mind upon presenting Meracad with a gift. Nothing too flamboyant – she was embarrassed enough already, unsure even of how to approach such a task; the entire business seemed fraught with difficulty. Yet they saw so little of each other, she reasoned. Just to pass on some token of her feelings would ease her mind a little. In spite of Léac's absence, Meracad still found it difficult to evade Agata or her father's servants. And who knew what would happen if Léac were to return?

If he decided to marry Meracad off, they would have to resort to desperate measures. Every waking moment seemed occupied with thinking of the merchant's daughter ─ whether she trained at the academy, fought a duel, or closed her eyes, trying to sleep. These were feelings she had never experienced before. They disturbed her, frightened her even. But she had already been carried so far from her own orbit that there was no hope of return. For the first time, she realised that she could give it all up ─ the duelling, her own quarters, Colvé itself. Yes, she could and she would leave it all behind if she had to. The thought both shocked and elated her.

"You see, laddy, this piece here is no jewel. It's a shark's tooth."

The stall holder pulled her back into reality. As so often with strangers, he had mistaken her for a boy. She decided against apprising him of the truth.

"A what?"

"A shark's tooth. Sharks are dangerous creatures which, I am told, swim in the great oceans to the east. They'd have your leg off before you even knew it was gone."

"Really? So this wouldn't be just some piece of wood you'd fashioned for the sake of a tall story?"

"Have a look at it, lad. If I could make such things I'd be a richer man than I am now."

She held it up to the light. It bore resemblance to a translucent arrowhead. Never in her life had she been out of the city, much less to the east, and the idea of an underwater world through which the former owner of this tooth had once glided played upon her imagination. Maybe, she thought, if they were to leave the city, to escape to the hinterlands and beyond, she would witness for herself the vast stretches of water that marked the eastern frontier of the empire. Suddenly, the shark's tooth came to represent a new kind of freedom.

"For yourself, is it?"

"For someone else."

"I see. Well, seeing as it's a present for some lucky girl, what say you to eight shiny shillings?"

"Eight shillings? I still don't even know if its genuine or not." She had set her heart upon buying it, but she knew full well that stallholders never expected a straight deal, nor respected one.

"Well, sometimes you've got to take a few risks, ain't you?" Brown eyes peered out at her from a tanned, weathered face. She looked away.

"Four shillings. No more. I'll bet you've got a whole pot of the things under your table."

"Well now, ain't you the suspicious one? Six and we'll call it a day, sonny."

She turned it over in her fingers once more and then sought in her pocket for some coins.

"Very well. But if I find you've cheated me, I'll be back for my money. With this." She indicated her sword.

The man grinned. "I'm sure she'll love it. Whoever she is."