“It is a learned Skill. You see up ahead and to the right”—he tilted his chin—“next to that stand with potatoes? There are several men who look like they are performing their duties but are actually waiting for people to approach. When we get there, they will start a confrontation with each other. Many people would be uncomfortable with such a situation and choose to cut between the buildings over there to get to the next street. There will be several thugs in that alley ready to rob anyone who takes that route.”

Tam looked at Rezkin skeptically. “How can you tell any of that?”

“The man on the left, there, in the brown tunic, has moved those same four barrels twice already into the same places. The one in the grey shirt is ringing the wash and hanging it on the line, only he keeps taking the same rags from the line and throwing them back into the wash. That potato merchant is probably not a part of the scheme, but he does not want to interfere either. He is avoiding looking at any of the men and keeps nervously glancing in our direction. There is a small-man playing lookout on that roof over there above the alley. He is signaling how many people are approaching and the level of risk,” Rezkin explained quietly to the two as they approached the intersection in question.

Tam’s eyes took in all of the sites Rez pointed out and realized he could tell something was amiss. Frisha whimpered and grabbed onto Rezkin’s arm.

He forced his muscles to relax a little as he suppressed his natural instinct to protect himself from the physical contact.

“Are you sure we should be going this way?” she queried barely loud enough to be heard.

“Tam, could you please take charge of Frisha? I would like to keep my arms unhindered in case I need to draw my weapons,” Rezkin requested. To Frisha he said, “Do not worry. If we choose not to take the alley, there is little chance anything will happen to us. The locals are familiar with the ploy and would know how to avoid it. We will do so by simply continuing straight ahead.”

Tam took Frisha’s arm and held her as they walked. He tensed when they reached the intersection and found himself gripping the handle of his dagger. He tried to appear calm and avoid looking at any of the thugs but knew he probably failed miserably.

Rezkin, on the other hand, blatantly glared at each of the members letting them know he was aware of their plot and would not be fooled. The man who had been moving the barrels nodded in acknowledgement, and the three travelers passed beyond the intersection without incident.