It was one of those days when the earth was forced to pitifully beg for a few drops of rain to relieve its suffering from the scorching sun. The scorching rays relentlessly cracked its bark, drying up what little life remained in the tiny grasses of Karcep's streets. Dust hung in the air, intensifying the oppressive, stifling sensation of heat. People who had no important work to do at this time of day had taken refuge in their homes, seeking salvation by drinking fresh milk or falling asleep drenched in sweat in one of the rooms least exposed to the sun. Not to mention the fact that there was no fresh breeze to be felt, as if the sea was punishing the townspeople for the tons of excrement, rags and all kinds of garbage that were dumped on it every day.
The street was practically empty, with only two middle-aged men walking slowly in my direction. They were discussing something. Chrissam appeared at the appointed moment and met them while they were still a block away from my position. I don't know what he said to them, as he was always improvising, but I must admit that he was a man of rare eloquence and very good at making people swallow his words. The quidams turned and began to explain something to him.
I scanned the houses opposite in a flash, then looked across the street. No one was there. Now was the time. Without taking my eyes off Chrissam and the other two, I slid my clammy palm around the metal handle and lowered it gently. Despite my best efforts, it creaked, but only slightly. My heart was racing. I half-opened the door, propping it lightly from above. It was unlocked, just as The Shrimp had said. I dived in and shut it.
The only window in the house was covered by a curtain, so I couldn't be seen from the outside. In the large room there was a sideboard with plates and cutlery, a small table covered with oilcloth, and three chairs with mesh backs around it. The door to the next room faced me and was unfortunately framed just below the stairs leading to the upper floor.
I knew there was an old lady upstairs who hadn't gone out that day. I hoped I wouldn't have any trouble with her: as soon as she got over the shock, I'd have to hit her and frighten her, and it's never pleasant to do that to old people. According to the rules of the trade, I had to act without scruples to be able to correct any mistakes, but this went against my morals.
There were a few candlesticks in the room, and I would probably have found some gold or silver cutlery in the kitchen, but that wasn't the purpose of my visit.
I approached the staircase. It was made entirely of varnished oak, high quality and expensive, but probably older than I was. I took a deep breath and climbed carefully, leaning against the wall. I kept a steady pace to reduce my weight on the steps, placing my feet only on their ends. Still, the successive creaks rang in my ears like a baby crying to its mother. I felt as if even Chrissam could hear me from the street. It was as if even the gods had fallen silent in the midst of their eternal polemics and were now indignantly listening to whether I was stupid enough to break into a private home in broad daylight, right in the heart of Karcep.
I reached the last stairs and stopped for a moment. There was no movement upstairs or downstairs. A bead of sweat ran down my cheek. Upstairs was a narrow, dark corridor with two doors. I needed to get to the back door, so without wasting any more time, I headed for it. The floor was covered with a multicolored carpet, slightly gray from a layer of dust.
Thanks to it, I moved forward in complete silence. I pressed the doorknob, looked around for a moment, and then stepped inside. I'd decided to move faster because I knew there was no one in sight, but if I was terribly unlucky, the shopkeeper could return at any moment. Luck was clearly not on my side that day. The bedroom contained a bed, a desk, a chair, and a bookshelf, all in great disarray.
But what I was looking for could have caught the eye of a blind man. In the top row of the shelf were two gilded statuettes of warriors in Arcadian armor, and just behind them, almost carelessly abandoned, was another similar one, but made of porcelain.
I picked it up carefully and examined it. It was relatively well colored, but it seemed to have been clumsily crafted: the surface was distorted here and there, and a little paint was missing from the contours. Personally, I wouldn't have given ten copper coins for it. But even my highest estimates wouldn't have tolerated a price higher than a silver.
The reward promised to me and Chrissam alone was twenty-five gold coins. The Shrimp, who wouldn't give alms to a starving old man, wouldn't risk paying us such a sum for a trivial mission. I'm not completely stupid... I quickly examined the statuette from the side and underneath. It was in one piece. I shook it and immediately felt that something was inside. It didn't rattle or move much, but there was definitely something there.