The later the afternoon stretched, the closer the sun moved toward the horizon. The emptying pavilion led the merchants to begin consolidating their stations. This naturally led to more people engaging in the 'conspiracy of bets' with the lead merchant.
He was sure he could figure it out by the end of the day and had already wagered a small keg of alcohol on it! Most winners had collected their due, leaving only some scattered latecomers left to process. Alongside them were those remaining few who wanted to get bets in today instead of rushing in the morning when the brackets were posted.
A broad-shouldered man in worn leathers thrust his collection slip onto their table. His calloused palm pressed against the wood as he leaned forward at them. His voice carried the gruff certainty of someone used to being heard.
The merchants knew a caravan boss when they saw one.
