He recalled the absence of money. A newcomer wouldn’t likely have anything corresponding to small change. Usually you made a bargain with an innkeeper, food and lodging for so-and-so much of the metal, or whatever else of value, you carried. For lesser purchases, you sawed a piece off an ingot, unless some different trade was arranged. (Everard’s fund included amber and nacre beads.) Sometimes you called in a broker, who made your transaction part of a complicated one involving several other individuals. If you felt charitable, you’d carry around a little grain or dried fruit and drop it in the bowls of the indigent.

Everard soon left most of the people behind. They were mainly interested in the crew. A few idle curiosity-seekers, and many stares, trailed him. He strode over the quay toward an open gate.

A hand plucked his sleeve. Startled enough to miss a step, he looked down.

A brown-skinned boy grinned back. He was sixteen or so, to judge from the fuzz on his cheeks, though small and scrawny even by local standards. Nonetheless, he moved lithely, barefoot, clad only in a ragged and begrimed kilt at which hung a pouch. Curly black hair fell in a queue behind a sharp-nosed, sharp-chinned face. His smile and his eyes—big, long-lashed Levantine eyes—were brilliant.

“Hail, sir, hail to you!” he greeted. “Life, health, and strength be yours! Welcome to Tyre! Where would you go, sir, and what can I do for you?”

He didn’t burble, but spoke very clearly, in hopes the stranger would understand. When he got a response in his own language, he jumped for joy. “What do you want, lad?”

“Why, sir, to be your guide, your advisor, your helper, and, yes, your guardian. Alas, our otherwise fair city is afflicted with scoundrels who 1ike nothing better than to prey on innocent newcomers. If they do not outright steal everything you have, the first time you blink, they’ll at least wish the most worthless trash on you, at a cost which’ll leave you paupered almost as fast—”