As Percy and I stepped out from the protection of the porch, I immediately regretted the decision. I pulled down my cap and turned up my collar as soon as the soldiers on the porch couldn’t see me.

We reached the spot on the sidewalk where Shaphan sat last time. “I wonder where he could be,” Percy said.

“Probably inside, out of this blasted wind!”

“Let’s follow this road and look for him.”

“Doesn’t matter to me, as long as it’s out of the breeze.”

“This way, then.” Percy led me down the nearest road. Buildings blocked the wind, yet a chill remained in the air. I unfolded my collar but kept my cap low on my ears.

“There he is!” Percy said, and grinned. He tilted his head toward a bundle of earth-colored clothes in a doorway alcove a short way down an alley.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, look! Hi, Shaphan!”

The bundle moved and a head topped with shaggy black hair rose and looked in our direction. Yep, it was the beggar. Shaphan. He smiled, I could see it as we walked closer.

“There aren’t patrols on this street, right?” Percy asked worriedly.

“Not very often. If we put this barrel in the middle of the alleyway and keep our voices down, we’ll be fine. I can sit and protect you two.” A fine layer of ash covered the alley’s cobblestones. Shaphan’s footprints were the only disturbance.

“If you want.”

I dragged the half-empty barrel away from the wall, and sat down in a way that most of my body would be hidden by it. I fingered the knife in my boot. Shifting slightly to become more comfortable, I heard a crinkling noise, like paper. Oh - paper. The newspaper. I didn’t get a chance to finish reading that article. Maybe Percy and Shaphan will find it interesting. I pivoted so that I faced them. Shaphan ate a piece of jerky and conversed with Percy.

I found my opportunity to speak up when the conversation faltered briefly. “Guys, I remembered that I have this newspaper article about the Triumdemic. Is it okay if I read it out loud for us?”

“Yeah, sure,” Shaphan said through a mouthful of food.

Percy’s usual tannish skin vanished, replaced by a pale white. “Are you okay?” I asked him. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“I don't know; I feel queasy all of a sudden. Maybe I ate some bad food.”

“Is it okay if we read the article?” Shaphan asked. “I’m curious about it.”

“I think so,” Percy said slowly.

I unfolded the paper with a flourish. The smell of ink filled the air. I cleared my throat and began with a preface, “This is the Egron Star. It’s the main newspaper in Egron City. The front page article is about the black market company, the Triumdemic. Percy, I’m sure you have heard of them; but Shaphan, have you?”

“A little,” he replied thoughtfully. “They’re not very active here in Astor, I don’t think. Mostly the capital.”

“Okay. No one really knows where their business is located, but they’ve been around for several years now. They bring in all sorts of exotic merchandise that they resell. Only nobles can afford it. No one ever talks about it, but everyone knows it’s a thing. I like to read the newspapers as often as I can, and this is the first time they’ve been in it.”

“What is the headline?” Shaphan asked.

“‘Black Market Caught Selling Parisian Dress Dupes’.”

“Why does King Venlaan care so much about dress patterns, even if they were from Parisius?” Shaphan asked quizzically.

"I doubt that the king himself is involved. But if you think about it, who’s buying the dress patterns?”

“Noblewomen. Maybe even the queen herself, and the princesses too,” Percy supplied.

“Exactly. Imagine all those ladies realizing they’ve been tricked and complaining to their husbands. Their husbands don’t want the world to know that their wives are involved with or even know about the Triumdemic, but their wives nag them enough and so they go to the king. The king wants to smooth things out but he doesn’t want the Triumdemic to stop their business because he gets stuff from them too. The article says, and I quote, “His Majesty King Venlaan fined the Triumdemic 3,000 opies and let their representative go free.” That’s it.”

“That would be a drop in the bucket for the owner of a black market,” Percy said slowly.

“What do you think should have happened, Percy?” Shaphan asked.

“I’m not sure,” he said. Earlier, he sat cross-legged. Now he pulled his knees to his chest. “3,000 opies isn’t much. But everyone’s got to eat, even the leaders of the Triumdemic.”

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

“That’s true,” I said. “And knock-off dress patterns might not seem super important, but think of all the workers in Parisius who would have benefited if real patterns were bought from them.”

“Anything else that’s noteworthy in the paper?” Shaphan asked me. “I haven’t heard any recent news.”

I shuffled through the pages. “No, not much. Oh, wait, there’s this one blurb that I remember… let me find it, hold on… okay, here it is. ‘Anglish Queen Nicola the Gray Commemorates Her 50th Year on the Throne’. Apparently there was this huge party in Londinium, and by extension close to all of Angleterre, because of it. I bet the air taxis were so crowded!”

“Air taxis?” Shaphan said, brow furrowed.

“Londinium is a floating city, just like Parisius and all the other major and not-so-major cities in Europe. So steam air taxis take them from one city to another, or from one part of the city to another,” I said authoritatively.

“How do you know so much about those places so far away?” Percy asked.

“My father always bought the Londinium Times, and we would read it together. It was always a couple weeks behind, but it was something.”

“Why doesn’t Egron City float? It’s the biggest city around.”

“I’m not sure. They built floating platforms, like, 150 years ago. Egron City wasn’t big then. And Egron is too far east. We’re too close to Ruslan for them to elevate us in that way.”

“Hm,” Shaphan said.

We sat in silence for a few minutes. Then Shaphan said, “I’m thinking about the whole Triumdemic thing. Sounds like they kind of have control over the nobles and the king. If I was a leader of the Triumdemic, I wouldn’t stop at selling measly dress patterns. I’d be selling the good stuff. Jewelry, medicine, fancy clothes, stuff like that. I’d buy it cheap in Parisius, or Londinium, and sell it for the highest prices I could. By the time the nobles realized it wasn’t the good quality they expected, I’d already have their money.”

“You’d run out of customers pretty quickly, though,” Percy pointed out. “Once people get burned, they don’t want to come back.”

“Maybe I’d offer some deals like buy two, get one free, or offer a piece of jewelry with every purchase. Or I’d constantly bring in new items that no one’s ever seen before. Or I’d keep moving from city to city. I could occasionally buy real goods and mix them in with the fake. So maybe customers would keep buying, trying to find the real thing. And with my established shipping routes, I’d be able to bring in supplies faster than the king could. Like medicine or surgical supplies. Even blankets and fabric for uniforms, and food, too. The king wouldn’t be able to resist. He wants to keep the approval of his army. Therefore, he wants to buy from me.”

As Shaphan progressed with his speech, Percy drew back more and more.

“Are you feeling okay, Percy?” I asked. He looked kind of green now.

“I don’t know,” he mumbled.

“Do you want to go to the hotel?”

“I don’t know,” he repeated.

“Okay, we get it. You don’t know. A few more minutes, then we'll head back to the hotel.” I said. “Shaphan, how did you learn so much about black market dealings?”

“I listen a lot. People think that just because my eyes don’t work, that my ears don’t, either.”

“Mm. If you don’t mind me asking, really, I mean it, don't answer unless you want to, how long have you been blind?”

“I was born blind. Everyone in this town thinks I'm cursed or something. I actually didn’t start begging until the soldiers came. To your people, I’m a nuisance, but they feel sorry for me and give me stuff. My own people would never have given me anything.”

“I’m sorry, man. That’s crazy, that they think that.” Percy said. He looked better now, maybe slightly less green. “Do you have any family around here?”

“Yes, my parents are alive and I have two younger sisters. But my father was badly hurt in a work accident and he can’t walk anymore. My mother and my sisters work hard sewing clothes, and my mother also works hard doing laundry for the rich people in town, like the general and the prince. I can help a little with the laundry if she brings it to our house. The reason I started to beg was because she doesn’t deserve to work so hard all the time. We go through half a dozen candles in a week because the girls sew from early in the morning to late at night. Every little bit helps, and I want to do my share, even though I can’t see.”

“That sure is nice of you,” I said.

“My father owns a bakery in Egron City,” Percy said. “I used to help him there, before I got drafted.”

“What did you like about the bakery?” Shaphan asked.

“Hmm, that’s a good question,” Percy said. “I’m not sure, I’ll have to think about that.”

“I think I would enjoy the smell of all that bread,” Shaphan said.

“Yes, I liked that, too. And I liked making the different kinds of bread. We made rolls, and plain bread, bread with herbs, sweet bread…”

“Yummm,” Shaphan smiled.

“Did you ever make donuts? Apple fritters are my favorite.” I said.

“Yes, around King Day. My father makes the best glaze for them. Not too sweet, and melts in your mouth.”

We chatted for a while about donuts - Shaphan’s never eaten one, apparently; Percy promised to take him to the bakery for one someday. Shaphan said that would only happen when pigs fly, but smiled nonetheless.

Eventually, we heard the boom and ring of the church’s huge bell. “1800 hours,” I said. “Suppertime. Nice talkin to ya, Shaphan, but we gotta go or they'll start a search party.”

“Okay,” he said wistfully.

“We’ll see you again, right?” Percy said hopefully. “If we don't get whacked in the meantime, that is.”

Shaphan smiled a little at that. “I look forward to it.”

“You look forward to us getting whacked or you look forward to seeing us again? You seem like a nice guy, I’d hate to be wrong.”

Now he looked flustered, but he still grinned. “You know what I meant! Now go eat your supper before it gets cold, is what my mother would say.”

We laughed. I dug in my pocket and found a piece of dried fruit. I wiped the fuzzies off and handed it to Shaphan. After he thanked me, Percy and I left the alley. I moved the barrel out of the way so that Shaphan wouldn’t bump into it.

While we sat in the alley, the wind subsided a bit, and we jogged to the hotel. Even more soldiers sat on the porch and in the lobby. A small building next door apparently housed a large kitchen, and a line of soldiers stretched around the block. We waited at the end of the queue.