of grain, rice and barley waited to be bartered over.
Willow’s mouth watered over the fruit. There was no shortage of fresh fruit in Beldar but she’d been in Predaria with her father for two months now. Two months without so much as a grape.
Caleb stopped at each tent, gently pinching soft red tomatoes and smelling fruit. He paid a silver coin from a pouch on his belt for two peaches. To her eye, the little pouch looked rather weighty. Didn’t he worry about being robbed?
“A peace offering,” he said, turning to her and holding a peach in his outstretched hand.
She didn’t refuse this time but took his offering and sank her teeth in. She closed her eyes and had to fight a rush of tears at how astoundingly delicious the peach was.
They said nothing as they ate and walked, enjoying the succulent treat.
When they were done, Caleb asked for her pit and tied it along with his into a small cloth he tucked into his pocket.
Willow looked at him as if he’d just sprouted a second nose. “What are you going to do with those?”
“Plant them.” He smiled.
She gave a short laugh. “In what?”
“Soil.”
She had no idea what he meant. Did they trade soil here? If they did, what good would it do Caleb without any water?
Her father’s treasured gold horses were traded for five bushels of apples and thirty sacks of rice.
Willow watched and listened as Caleb haggled for less than he originally offered. The women traders were easier to bargain with whilst the men took a bit more persuasion. But Caleb was a master at trading, wielding his charm as smoothly as he wielded his sword.
Sometime later, when all they had left were the paintings and some jewelry, he led her to the water tents.
The dealings inside these massive tents was much more serious, and only one trade was allowed at a time, making one less likely to be robbed since no one knew how much water he possessed. Even though it did rain in some places in Predaria from time to time, fresh water was the rarest and most precious commodity in the land.
Caleb entered the dimly lit tent first then motioned with a sweep of his arm for Willow to follow. The smell of incense and sweat immediately made her feel ill. Her escort didn’t seem too bothered by it as he folded his long legs and sat down on the dirt floor.
A sinister looking man with a black patch over one eye was already sitting across from them, waiting to make a trade. His nose was as pointed as his chin and he gave Caleb and Willow a menacing smile as he took a clay jug from a short, plump man behind him. The business began immediately.
“I didn’t think I’d see you so soon after our last visit, Caleb,” the man said, narrowing his one dark eye on the familiar face before him.
“Water is a frequently needed treasure, Halsteri,” Caleb told him.
“That it is,” the trader agreed, holding the jug close in his lap.
“I see your mint is thriving,” Caleb said with a smile gazing at a large clay pot filled with soil and a thick mint plant.
“Yes,” the trader told him proudly. “I have more plants and herbs at home. Now,” He searched the floor around his customer, spying the paintings. “What do you have for me?”
Caleb reached into his pocket and pulled out a two-carat emerald ring set amid an array of diamonds.
When Willow saw her ring she whimpered and gazed at it longingly.
“Who is the water for?” she asked wondering if she should have kept the ring.
“The people of my village,” Caleb told her. “I would not use it if I didn’t need it.”
“How did you come upon such finery?” the merchant asked both of them suspiciously. Traders would not do business if they suspected the merchandise was stolen, fearing the original owners would happen upon their belongings and demand them back.
“I am the prin—” Willow began but Caleb cut her off.
“They are hers,” he told the trader. “But she needs water to survive just like the rest of us.”
Halsteri’s smile was like a sword being drawn when he looked at Willow. “Is she for trade as well? I will give you five gallons for her.”
Willow gasped and was about to tell him what she thought of him when Caleb touched her arm. “No, she is not for trade,” he answered quietly. Then, “Please don’t insult her again, Halsteri.”
The trader shrugged indifferently.