Episode 4
Devil Weed
He ducked into the first shop he saw on the next street over and crouched behind a rack of hats. Less than twenty seconds later, the soldiers sprinted past the doorway and down the street, cursing.
Gregory panted and fought down the fear in his stomach. They were just making sure I don’t follow them; he told himself. They might even assume he was part of a bandit group, scoping their defenses before they left.
In any case, the caravan would leave Marisburg soon, and if he laid low and did nothing suspicious, they would forget he existed.
“Can I help you?” a voice asked directly behind Gregory. He flinched and let out a sharp scream, and then laughed.
So much for not looking suspicious.
Gregory turned and saw a middle-aged salesperson standing behind a counter, watching him with an amused expression. His jowls gave him the appearance of a jolly old friend, which no doubt helped his sales technique. Gregory stood up from behind the hat rack and brushed dust off his jacket.
“Yes… I… uh…”
“You were looking for a hat?”
“I… um…”
“What you mean to say, son,” the salesperson said, “is ‘by golly yes, sir, I need a hat to protect my fair skin!’ Those were the words you were looking for; else why would you be in a hat store?”
“Uh, what?”
“I mean, if you weren’t here to buy a hat, I might assume you were a criminal hiding from those soldiers that just ran past. And that most certainly isn’t what you are, is it?”
Gregory laughed. At least he wasn’t shouting to the guards.
A hat? Sure, why not? The sun was bright.
“My skin isn’t that fair, is it?”
“Quite. From Farrsburrough?”
“Olestin.”
“You’re practically albino, son. Take it from me kid, this sun will chew you up, spit you out, and then set you on fire. That is, of course, unless you buy one of my fine hats to protect you.”
Gregory smiled. “You’ve convinced me.”
He glanced around the racks at various hats.
The merchant hadn’t exaggerated, at least on quantity of merchandise. On the quality, Gregory wasn’t so sure. He saw several with floppy brims and decided that he didn’t like the way they would settle over his eyes, no matter how much protection they offered. One rack was elaborate and annoying, coming in every disgusting color combination imaginable.
“People actually wear these?” he asked. The salesperson nodded gravely.
“Those are my best sellers.”
“How?”
“Rich young gents like yourself purchase them to attract ladies. Shows their wealth. It is called peacocking.”
Gregory couldn’t tell if the salesperson was serious, then decided that he couldn’t possibly be. Peacock hat, he thought, and couldn’t suppress a laugh; and just when I don’t want to be noticed.
He moved to another aisle and found a selection of safari hats. The brims were smaller, but still enough to protect most of his face. He picked one and slipped it over his head. It felt smooth and sturdy, a shade of deep brown. It rested comfortably, and he couldn’t shake it loose.
He decided it was his best bet, and he’d probably wasted enough time that the guards had given up on the chase.
“Will that be all, sir?” the merchant asked as Gregory approached the counter.
Of course, he started to say, reaching for a bag of coins tied to his hip.
“Yes,” a voice said behind him in the doorway.
His heart skipped a few beats, and he didn’t have to turn around to know who it was: the Captain.
Doing his best to act unperturbed, Gregory pulled a few coins out of his pocket. He heard footsteps on the wooden floor behind him, and they stopped only feet away.
“I would suggest you hurry and pay the man.”
Gregory passed the money over but dropped one coin on the ground. So much for unperturbed. The Captain reached down and grabbed the coin, passing it to the merchant, and took Gregory by the arm. The merchant’s look of amusement was gone, and he could only offer a shrug and a frown as Gregory was led away.
