Free The Elemental Jewels (Book 1) by Jeffrey Quyle Page B

tent.
    “Wait,” one of the guards gave a monosyllabic order, then went into the tent for five seconds, and withdrew.
    Grange started to step forward, but the man held his hand up to clearly indicate that Grange was not yet ordered into the tent.
    A minute later, a woman came out of the tent, buttoning up her blouse as she let the cloth flap swing closed behind her.  She smiled brazenly at one guard as she patted the other on the shoulder, brushed past Grange, walking unnecessarily close by him, so that her body grazed his as she gave him a wink, and then she was on her way, striding through the city of tents.
    “Where’s my pickpocket?” Matey’s voice called out.
    “Get in there – now,” ordered the guard who had held him up before, and Grange quickly hustled inside the tent.
    Matey was standing with his back to the door, wearing a robe.  He turned around when Grange entered, and gave the boy a quick appraisal.
    “Today, I have a simple little task for you,” Matey told Grange.  “Over in the blue section of the camp there’s a captain who has a beard on his chin, and a scar over his eye.  He has a lady friend who wears a piece of jewelry on her blouse – green, polished stones.
    “I want you to get that brooch for me,” Matey said.  “Just a simple little thing.”
    “Does she wear it pinned onto her clothes?” Grange asked, sensing trouble already from the assignment.  Picking a purse out of a pocket was relatively easy work – the purse would be loose and easy to remove, unless it was chained in place, the way Hockis’s set-up had been.  But a pinned brooch on a woman’s chest would be difficult.
    “Well of course she does!  She flaunts it everywhere.  I know a woman or two who are very jealous of Fleutitia’s jewels, and I intend to make them happy,” Matey snapped.  “Is there a problem?” he asked in an ominous voice.
    “No,” Grange paused.  “It’s just that I’m used to working in a team, with a helper or two.”
    “Oh, for the love of the spirits!  This is your moment to shine!  You go out and do this on your own, and I’ll be very happy with you.  If you don’t do it, I’ll be very unhappy with you.  Now go,” Matey ordered.  He stepped over to his desk and sat down, as Grange stood in his spot.
    “Go on, I said,” Matey repeated himself.  “And when you come back, you better have the brooch with you.”
    Grange turned and fled from the tent.  He walked quickly away, out of sight of the guards, then sat on a tree stump and tried to weigh his prospects for success.  It was going to be difficult, he knew.  He could try to boldly rip the brooch off the woman’s blouse and run, but that seldom succeeded.  He could wait until night, and steal the pin from her clothes when she wasn’t wearing them, unless she happened to undress in the tent of the officer she apparently kept company with.
    Or perhaps he could find something to trade for the brooch, something that would make the job easier.
    He needed to see the target, he decided, to understand what his chances of success could be.  And he wanted to be inconspicuous, which meant he didn’t want to wear bright yellow clothes as he strolled through the blue section of the camp.
    “Where is the laundry?” he asked the first person he happened to see, a guard.
    “On the western edge of the camp, by the stream.  Why?” the guard asked.
    “Matey told me to pick something up for him,” Grange responded.
    “Going around the south end of the camp’s the quickest way,” the guard advised, impressed by the use of Matey’s name.
    Grange nodded his thanks and began circling around the camp as directed, noting the number of solid stone structures built along the fringes of the camp, and guarded by uniformed guards. He passed by one building, where a number of officers were sitting on a porch in the front of the building, taking drinks from a large ceramic jug.
    He passed on by, thinking that the jug might