The loaf of bread Alanna had stolen from a vendor’s cart was small, day-old and stale, but it was really no surprise that the guards would catch sight of her and take chase anyway. Holding onto her prize as tightly as she could, the streetrat took flight, scampering up a ladder onto a roof. She glanced behind her and laughed at the sight of the guards trying to climb up the ladder all at once. She kept running until she nearly ran over the roof’s edge, just barely holding onto the stale little loaf in her hand. Looking around quickly, she spotted a laundry line and leapt down, landing on top of the rope and sliding down, thankful for the callouses that covered the bottoms of her feet and kept her from feeling the rope burn she knew she’d have after this. And as luck would have it, there was an open window ahead. Or not.
The shutters shut just before Alanna slammed into them and fell, bouncing off a bunch of awnings below and landing in a pile of laundry. Popping out of the laundry, she pulled a sheet over her head and used it as a cloak, moseying over to the three older women huddled around a wash basin.
“Good morning, ladies,” she greeted them.
“Getting in trouble a little early today, aren’t we, Alanna?”
“In trouble?” Alanna scoffed, turning away and heading down the street. “Me? No way. You’re only in trouble if you get caught--”
“Got you, streetrat!” A meaty hand grabbed her by the shoulder, and she found herself staring into the glaring visage of the Captain of the Guard, Razoul.
“--I’m in trouble!” Thinking quickly, Alanna threw the sheet she’d been ‘wearing’ over Razoul’s head and skedaddled. But she could hear him running after her.
“I’ll have your hands for a trophy, streetrat!”
“All this for a loaf of bread? Come on, Razoul!” Alanna yelled back, looking over her shoulder. “You know you’re never gonna catch me! And it’s not like it wouldn’t be on the trash heap by the end of the day anyway--oof!”
She’d been so busy looking back and taunting Razoul that she hadn’t paid any attention to where she was going. Until something forced her to stop. She didn’t know who she’d run into, but it was with enough force that she was sent to the dirt and a puff of dust flew up around her, the small loaf of bread she’d managed to steal flying off to the side somewhere. Coughing, she looked up, and her eyes went wide. Son of a jackal! She was really in trouble, now. She’d just run into the Sultan’s vizier! What was he doing in the marketplace?
