The kola from which they grew Chapter 1 part 1

Prologue

Chapter one

Edghe’s feet slapped the sand as he raced through the labyrinthine streets. He turned a corner and almost crashed into a goat. The dazed animal registered him with a delay and began loudly bleating as he had already whizzed past it, leaving the goat and its owner angrily shouting after him. He knew he was nearing his destination when the smell of manure receded, and he picked up the scents of spices and smoke; the narrow alleys gave way to the ekita souk, the market at the edge of the slums. The hustle and bustle of the merchants and patrons filled air with sounds of haggling. Edghe brushed past a man clad in modest layered caftan. The man was carefully carving a square off a block of dried herb onto a scale, while the merchant waited patiently holding onto a rope with a goat at the end. The piece dropped onto the scale with a clang and the merchant swiftly inspected the weight, nodded in approval “Jeshu has witnessed a just price paid,” he said as he handed the rope to the patron, “Ancestors be my witness you will profit from her milk.”

The patron, placed the herb block back into his pouch and accepted the rope, “I place my trust in the witnesses,” came his reply. He gave a last cursory assessment of the goat’s teeth, then shook the merchant’s hand and they exchanged a “peace be upon you.”

Meanwhile Edghe was briskly making his way away from the two men, holding the herb block wedged in the ribbing of his pants, under his simple brown tunic. He slipped and maneuvered through the crowd, eyes scanning for his next target. An angry shout came from behind; no doubt the patron had noted his abnormally light pouch. Edghe quickly gabbed a violet fruit from the stall he was just passing, trusting that the merchant who was currently deeply invested in a haggling negotiation wouldn’t notice. Much to Edghe’s dismay, the merchant let out a furious cry “Thief! Guards! Thief!”

Edghe began running, he pulled the hood of his tunic over his head and rushed through the thick crowd. The general hubbub smothered the merchant’s yelling. Edghe arrived at the edge of the market and as he reached the nearest house, he stepped onto the open windowsill and pulled himself up. Jumping over to the opposing building, he swiftly scaled the wall to the roof. He ducked and kept himself low, peering over the side. He saw the guards rushing in the direction pointed at by the fruit merchant and quickly pulled himself further out of view.

Slowly, he crept backwards towards the center of the grayish roof. The hard stone scraped his forearms. When he felt he was a safe distance from prying eyes, he pushed himself up and scaled the wall down onto the alley on the opposite side of the market.

He tore open the purple safou and bit hungrily at the innards. The sour pulp stained his mouth. Once he'd finished eating the fruit, he sighed, quite satisfied with himself, and started down the alley. As he turned the next corner, he was thrown onto his rear end. He felt as if he had hit a wall. The shadow stretched over him as he heard a familiar voice call out.

“Son-of-a-whore drazi at it again?” The larger boy spat the question. Edghe stared up at Màalu, and swore under his breath. Màalu stood larger than some adult men and had arms as thick as tree trunks at the ripe age of fifteen. Behind him stood his entourage of much less impressive looking youths. 'Four in total, Màalu included,' counted Edghe silently.