“I’m sure I did; perhaps your information is outdated? I did send the report a couple of days ago.” Mehmed insisted and stomped his feet, wondering whether the official did take his report seriously.

“Relax, Mehmed, this is not a test.” Halimah held some papers in her hands and looked at them before raising her head. “A sandstorm had most of your supplies lost. This does not sound appropriate for an expedition force who have gone on many expeditions. If there were bandits, why were they missing from the report?” The girl frowned and sent a sharp gaze to the boy’s way.

“Truthfully…” Mehmed took some time to ponder everything that had happened. “I think that some people in the county have ties to the bandits. I will have to launch an investigation, but it must be discrete.” The young master sent a look of despair to the girl, causing her to nod.

“How bad is the corruption among your ranks? The Duchy may have to keep a greater eye on Alkhadra County. We lack the manpower unless you have something to offer. We have some agents in the lordship, which would be a good foundation for a spy network. What do you say?” Halimah stretched a hand out, seemingly wanting a handshake.

Mehmed shook his head, causing Halimah’s eyes to narrow. “I thank you for your offer, but I must personally handle it since this is an internal problem for the county.” Halimah temporarily scowled at his response before smoothing out her expression.

“Very well then; I wish you the best of luck.” The girl bid her goodbyes in a slightly strained tone as she took her leave. Mehmed bid her goodbye as he took his leave, admiring the capabilities and generosity of the Duchy’s heiress.

“My treat!” Zaki Hakim thanked the boy and his coachman in front of him. The coachman took the time to enjoy some of the cheap wines that Hakim had ordered, savouring every drop. Mehmed could only sigh as the coachman prohibited him from drinking a single drop, no doubt due to instructions from his family. He could only enjoy some lukewarm tea, as ice would be too costly for the poor Merchant-in-training Hakim.

“It is not an issue. So how are things on your side?” Mehmed curiously asked, looking into the boy’s eyes. Hakim’s complexion had improved much when he last saw him. He was a nervous wreck during the trip they had together, but he seemed much more confident and relaxed in Khaled.

“My superiors were understanding.” Hakim sipped on his cheap wine, savouring its fruity flavour. “There have been many bandit attacks around these parts. But the Merchant Union is cheap. If they increase the armoured guards to bring along each convoy, they wouldn’t be able to make a profit.” Hakim popped a couple of dates into his mouth.

“Status quo?” Mehmed queried, grabbing a date from a plate on the table.

“The Desert areas aren’t the main focus for merchants. Profit margins are thin, and the people are generally impoverished. The big money-makers come from foreign imports, which the nobility by the capital are willing to pay top dollar for! No offence, young master! But last time when I was there, I witnessed a strange invention that could send sound from one end of the city to another.”

“Really? What does it look like?” The coachman idly asked, receiving a stare from Mehmed. The coachman stifled his laughter as the boy seemed to want him to leave.

Hakim didn’t care who said the question and continued,” You pick up the device and speak a couple of words into it. And those very same words will come out at the other end. The pale foreigners gave an extremely technical talk; I didn’t get the details. But I thought it seemed terrific. I wonder what other cool things the foreigners have?”

“Sounds interesting.” Mehmed nodded his head and made a mental note to travel to the capital to peruse some of the exciting items showcased there. “Nonetheless, thank you for the meals.” Mehmed got up, and the coachman sighed as he grabbed a couple of dates in his hands.

“Not a problem. You could see me anytime in the city. The guild is limiting convoys due to the attacks, so I’m assigned to complete some low priority paperwork.” Hakim grinned as he stretched his hand. Mehmed caught it, and they shook hands. As they released their grip on one another, the coachman grabbed as many dates as possible before getting up. The two left the dining establishment.

Mehmed currently sat in the Alwaleed Duchy’s public library and scoured all sorts of records pertaining to explorers who explored the desert. Ancient, Present and Speculation written by all individuals were on public displays. Naturally, the Speculative records were all towed in the back, hidden from the usual public library goer. The records include things like doomsday predictions and ramblings by madmen. There were also foreign books, which were tucked away in another section, which required the personal permission of a family member that ruled the lands. Mehmed began his search in the public records and spent an entire day making a mess of a shelf. When he saw that the skies had become dark, he made his leave.

“Stop right there, young man! Where do you think you are going, leaving such a mess?” The local librarian chided Mehmed as she gestured at the scrolls and books cluttered about his desk.

“I seek your forgiveness for the mess made. But I shall take my leave now.” Mehmed strained his voice in a polite tone, and he suppressed his annoyance in his heart.

The librarian grasped his arm and demanded,” You’re not going anywhere until you clean up this mess!” Mehmed looked towards the library entrance and saw the coachman standing there waiting for him. The coachman seemed to have spotted Mehmed and beamed a wide smile as Mehmed gestured for him to come over to help him out. The coachman turned around and bent his body forward, seemingly as if he was vomiting.

Mehmed frowned but wiped the frown away when he faced the librarian. “Yes… madam…” He weakly sputtered and quickly put the books back in the right places. After a couple of minutes, the librarian seemed satisfied and let him scurry away. When Mehmed reached the entrance, he heard giggling noises from the coachman. Slapping him in the back, Mehmed spitefully ordered, “Let’s go!”

“Alright… hah… Perhaps you learned a lesson or two, young master.” The coachman smoothened out his expressions and headed to the coach.

With the book that he borrowed from Wasifi in his hands, he enjoyed the cool night breeze through his window. Sitting on a chair in his cheap room, it creaked as he gently fidgeted. The book was very uncomfortable as he had to take a couple of seconds to look outside the window to calm his thoughts before continuing. Yet, it was the only book he had, and he would like to complete it before returning it to Wasifi. While disturbing, its contents were rather enlightening, and he became a little more interested in the lives of daily peasants. He was halfway through the book when he decided to do just that and take a walk and see the nightlife of Khaled. Opening the creaky wooden door, he left his room and locked the door.

Taking a step outside the inn, he could see a mostly dark city while some oil lamps illuminated stalls that dotted the city. Hawkers hawked their food as patrons sat on dining chairs and tables set outside their booth. The nightlife was undoubtedly busy, licit and illicit, hard at work without the sun’s watchful gaze. He wandered, taking the time to enjoy the sights. The young master had to occasionally avoid the pushy salesman who seemed not to take no as an answer, coming into contact as soon as he was a couple of footsteps from the stall. Even if he wanted to purchase something, he had to retrieve some funds from the coachman, which he didn’t bring along. So innocent penniless, Mehmed could only truthfully confess his poverty to the salespeople, causing them to show their true colours with a wide array of scowls that drove the boy away.

Bored with the brighter parts of the city, he decided to go into the darker corners with the sounds of lust that could occasionally be heard. But as he seemingly walked alone in the street, a cloaked individual passed by him. Mehmed turned around and looked at the individual who reminded him of the familiar bandits. He stopped and rubbed his eyes to find that they were still working. With curiosity demanding to make some killing, the young boy decided to go on an adventure. He sauntered, tracking the figure as it made its way across alleyways and streets for a couple of minutes before entering a nondescript building. It looked like any other building around the area, a two-story building situated ten buildings away from the bustling marketplace. Mehmed observed the figure enter the building, where no light came from. He watched from a distance as the building remained dark.

Suddenly, the lights turned on, and the soft sounds of conversation could be heard. It was so quiet that he could not make out the details, but he could tell that people were talking. Unlike the heroes in the books he read, he understood that he was not someone who could fight. So, he took note of the location and scurried away to his room before being found out.

“Young master, what have been you doing at night? The red-light district? I see you have been growing up.” The coachman’s lips curled up as he teased the boy right outside his room. “It must be a horrendous experience; you look like a mess.” The coachman remarked as he observed the beads of sweat running across Mehmed’s forehead.

“Go to sleep.” Mehmed harshly ordered as he opened the door. As the sound of creaking wooden entered his ears, footsteps that caused the floor to croak echoed throughout the lonely hallway. “By the way,” Mehmed asked as he turned to face the receding back, causing footsteps to stop. “What is your name?”

“Can pigs fly? Or has heaven fallen onto the Earth?” The coachman remarked as he turned around to see a visible scowl on his cute employee’s face. “Adnan Abad. Have a good night’s sleep.” The coachman bid his goodbye as he left the boy be.

“Adnan Abad. Adnan Abad.” The boy mumbled as he tried to remember the name paired with the face. The face was owned by a man with an olive-like skin tone who kept his hair short. However, little could be discerned due to the fez hiding much of its contents. A short moustache on top of his lips was adorned with a short stubble on his chin. Mehmed made a note of all these details before turning in for the night, thinking about the lives of the ordinary peasantry.

“Mehmed, I heard that you require my presence? Have you made up your mind?” The girl innocently queried in a red dress which was much more simply designed.

“I would like to know how to build a spy network. I can’t find these kinds of topics in books.” Mehmed asked.

“I’m just an innocent girl who helps out with the administration. I don’t engage in skulduggery, but I do know a little. But it depends on the price?” Halimah’s eye glinted with greed as she saw a little morsel right in front of her.

“A possible trace for the bandits currently in your territory.” Mehmed’s lips curled up as Halimah’s eye bulged.

“So this is the deal? But it seems unfair; both of us want to hunt the bandits after all.” Halimah countered, straightening her posture as she adopted a poker face.

“But if an incident erupts here because of the bandits, I would not be harmed. It would be the Duchy who suffer.” Mehmed played what he thought was a strong card onto the table.

“Those are some treasonous words coming from a vassal.” The girl scowled openly as she leaned forward to pressure the boy. But the spymistress concluded,” Nonetheless, if the information you provided brings lead, we can negotiate further. I will organize a search with the local militia. Would you like to come along?” Halimah invited benignly, but Mehmed felt intimidated somewhat as he felt a tinge of malice in her tone.

Gritting his teeth, he furrowed his eyebrows and declared,” Of course, I must see this to the end.”

A couple of lightly armoured guardsmen escorted the two nobles to the noted building. Halimah put on a stoic expression, but Mehmed could feel her sending threatening gazes his way if he was wrong. While they are laws and procedures in place, nobles can override them from time to time. If they are correct, they win the people’s approval. If they’re wrong, they will be utterly humiliated. Halimah was staking her reputation on the line, and Mehmed admired her strongheaded attitude, but he still feared the consequences if he was wrong. As he walked, his footsteps momentarily grew slower and slower as all of the worst scenarios appeared in his hand. He may not die, but there are many things worse than death.

Knock, knock! A guardsman knocked on the door, arousing much grumbling and footsteps from the house’s interior. “Damn it! I want to sleep….” The individual opened the door only to be greeted with what seemed to be an entire army.

His face paled as his hands shook. Clasping his hands, he smiled and uttered, “How can I help you today? I’m just a merchant who pays his taxes on time.” The guardsmen looked toward the mistress in charge of the operation.

“Search the building!” was all she ordered, and guardsmen apprehended the man and brought him in front of the two nobles. The rest rushed into the building to search.

“Introduce yourself.” The guardsman holding him ordered as he grabbed him by his shoulder.

“Muhdati Dar! I run a small trading network between the capital and Khaled. We import grain.” Muhdati put an innocent baby face as he explained.

Halimah sighed in relief as Mehmed observed her. “Young mistress, we have uncovered two books.” A guardsman ran over and brought two books along. Halimah thanked the guardsman before flipping them over. Opening the books on the same page, which seemed to list out the business’s accounts, she passed a book to Mehmed. The boy looked over the book and did not understand much of the financial statements.

“Tax evasion. Tsk. As expected from a merchant.” Halimah scowled as she tapped on two rows in both books. Mehmed could feel the menacing glances from her dissipating as she made that comment.

“We have found something!” A guardsman announced, and the group outside moved inwards to see what the fuss was about.