Daring Do pulled her hooded cloak around herself as she walked across the bazaar. While she found her typical safari shirt and pith helmet more comfortable, the plain, dusty hood allowed her to blend in unnoticed in the Saddle Arabian marketplace. It was just another disguise-- if not quite as stylish as the glasses and cloche hat she wore as A.K. Yearling.
Her writing career seemed miles away-- was miles away, literally speaking. Her typewriter and rough drafts were safely ensconced in her home office, back in Equestria. But at that moment, the treasure hunter turned writer was more occupied with living an adventure than recording one.
The sounds and smells of the market enveloped Daring Do even more than her cloak did. All around, merchants hawked and haggled, each one doing their best to overshadow the last. Anything and everything was available in the bazaar: spices and silks from the east, hardwoods and produce from Equestria, and even rare jewels and metals from the depths of the Dragon Lands. There were even a few adventurous but wide-eyed tourists amongst the throng-- Daring Do wondered if her books had inspired them to travel so far abroad. She didn't dwell on the thought, and pressed on, deeper into the marketplace. The disguised treasure hunter/bestselling author ignored the shopkeepers (for the most part: she did allow herself the indulgence of a cinnamon pastry), as she had something far more important on her shopping list.
Information.
“My friend!” A pegasus pony with a bristly beard and a bright red fez stepped out of an unmarked doorway in an unremarkable stone building. “It has been too long! Please, come in, come in!” He held the door open, and beckoned Daring Do to come closer.
“Good to see you too, Tradewind.” Daring Do slipped through the darkened doorway with easy familiarity. Inside, the walls were lined with a variety of mismatched shelves, which in turn held a variety of mismatched books, ranging from ancient cloth-bound tomes to more modern paperbacks. An intricately woven Saddle Arabian rug covered the floor, with a low-set tea table and several silken cushions at the center.
Daring Do ran a hoof over a polished shelf, and cracked a grin.“You know, all these years, and I've never seen one of my books in your shop.”
“That is because they sell too fast!” Tradewind beamed. “There are worse problems to have-- but talk like that is too close to business, especially when we have not yet had coffee.”
“Don't trouble yourself on my account.” Daring Do said as she eased herself down onto one of the cushions.
“Bah! I insist! What kind of host would I be if I could not provide hospitality to my dear friend, hm?” Tradewind ducked behind a curtain leading deeper into his shop, and emerged a moment later bearing a steaming pot of coffee on a platter, with several tiny brass cups surrounding it. He laid the coffee set on the table with no small degree of fanfare, and poured a dram of the steaming liquid into Daring Do's cup.
“You've been expecting me.” Daring Do said.
“I started the pot as soon as I heard your ship came in.” Tradewind poured himself a cup of coffee, and clinked it against Daring Do's. “To your health.”
“And to yours.” Daring Do took the smallest of sips from her coffee-- even in such a small dose, the potent, thick liquid gave her nerves a jolt. It was the sort of thing that made the standard Equestrian coffee seem closer to water in comparison. Leaving the grounds in did that. Daring Do savored the thick, bitter liquid, and allowed herself a pleased sigh.
“As much as it pains me to say, I take it you have not come all this way from Equestria on a purely social visit?” Tradewind settled in on his cushion and shifted his wings slightly.
“I'm following a lead. I've heard rumors that someone's on the trail of the Crown of Kabrool.”
“The Crown of Kabrool?” Tradewind didn't spit out his coffee, but it was a close thing.
“It's been lost for a thousand years, I know, but--”
“I know where you can find it.” Tradewind said.
Daring Do blinked. “You do? How? Er, sorry-- I know you're good, Tradewind, but you're not that good.”
Tradewind laughed, then picked up a napkin to delicately pat a few droplets of coffee off of his bushy beard. “It is ... complicated, my friend. You Equestrians are always in such a hurry, so I shall spare you the full tale. All I shall say is that you should visit the stall with the blue and white striped awning on the west side of the market, and then all shall become clear. But please, finish your coffee first. I dare say you may need it.”
By the time Daring Do made to the west side of the bazaar, she was practically buzzing from the thick Saddle Arabian coffee. Sure enough, there was a blue and white striped tent, right where Tradewind had said it would be. The striped tent stood taller than the surrounding ones-- impractically so, in that it wouldn't survive the next sandstorm. Still, the novelty of the striped tent had worked its purpose, as a sizable crowd of natives and tourists both had gathered around the pavilion tent, curious.
“Gather round, gather round!” Somepony called out from the other side of the crowd. “And prepare yourselves for the most important moment of your lives!”
“The most important moment of their lives, you say?” A second, slightly deeper voice echoed.
“Why yes, the very most important moment of their lives! For today, this very special Tuesday, each and every pony in this crowd is presented with an opportunity to have a brush ... with destiny!”
“Destiny, you say?”
“Destiny is what I do, in fact, say! For today, ladies and gentlecolts, the world-famous Flimflam brothers have brought their traveling collection of curiosities to your town! Why let all those so-called archeologists--”
“More like grave-robbers, brother of mine!” The second voice said.
“Why yes, why let all those opportunists do whatever they want? Why, it seems you can't swing a cat without hitting some ambitious tomb raider who's all too eager to abscond with your precious cultural treasures! Not that I advocate any sort of cat-swinging, mind you. But today, the famed Flimflam brothers are happy-- no, honored to present to you a singularly unique opportunity! As we have collected an unparalleled assembly of ancient artifacts-- for you! Each and every one of these items is positively loaded with magic and mystery-- and each and every one of them is up for grabs! Where a more unprincipled soul might hock these valuables on the black market for thousands of bits, my brother and I only ask for a small donation to cover administrative costs. So who wants a first look at our collection of curiosities? There's something for everypony, here! Why, we have the Haunted Helm of Hoofington!”
“The Emerald Eye of Argon!” The second voice joined in.
“The Gilded Glaive of Gygax the Griffin!”
“And even the Crown of Kabrool!”
Daring Do grit her teeth and shouldered her way through the crowd, finally getting a look at the ponies in front of the striped tent. Two unicorns-- Equestrian, to judge by their striped vests and straw boater hats. They were almost identical, save for the moustache one of them wore, while the other was clean shaven.
“Show me.” Daring Do said, shifting her wings a little beneath her cloak.
“Why look here, Flim!” One of the unicorns said as he zeroed in on Daring Do. “A customer!”
“And what a customer, Flam!” The other said, sizing Daring Do up. “One with a discerning eye, I can tell! So, tell me, young lady, how can my brother and I be of assistance?”
“I'd ... like to take a look at the artifacts. Privately.” Daring Do said.
“I knew it! We have a connoisseur on our hooves!” Flam said, smiling. He obligingly opened the tent flap for Daring Do. Inside, a small museum's worth of artifacts were laid out, almost haphazardly upon various wooden barrels and crates. Weapons and jewelry, armor and statues. And there, in one corner-- the Crown of Kabrool. Flam started to tell a rambling story about how he had come by such a collection of artifacts. Within just three sentences, Flam's story had more than a dozen inaccuracies that even a first-year archaeology student could have spotted. Biting back the urge to correct him, Daring Do ignored Flam's salesman patter and headed directly for the crown.
“Ah! The Cursed Crown of King Kabrool the Cruel! One of the ... darker artifacts in our collection, I admit. It's said his hatred--”
“--still haunts his crown to this day.” Daring Do said.
“I knew you were a smart cookie!” Flam beamed. “Why, you probably know the legend better than I do! Which makes you the perfect pony to take possession of it! Why, just be careful, or the haunted thing might take possession of you.”
“I'd be more worried if it wasn't a fake.” Daring Do turned to glare at Flam.
“A fake?” Flam said, aghast. “Just what kind of pony do you take me for?”
Daring Do rolled her eyes, then kicked backward. Her hoof struck a crate with a solid thump, and a moment later the crate creaked open, revealing a dozen identical Crowns of Kabrool, neatly packed in straw.
“The braided wirework is a distinctly fifth century style-- Kabrool died a good two hundred years earlier. Plus, the gold paint is already flaking.”
“Ah.” Flam said, and cleared his throat. “Oh, Flim, brother of mine? Could you come in here for a moment? We have a ... special customer on our hooves.”
“One of those, hm?” Flim said. He slipped into the tent, turning a cardboard sign hanging from the flap to 'CLOSED.' He trotted up beside his brother, peering curiously at Daring Do.
The pegasus grit her teeth and planted her hooves, bracing herself. “Don't try anything.” She warned. Two to one wasn't very good odds, but Daring Do had faced worse.
“Try ... anything?” Flim said, and then shook his head with a laugh. “Why, my dear filly, my brother and I are gentlecolts. We are ponies of culture and commerce-- to think that either of us would lower ourselves to mere physical confrontation is a scurrilous thought!”
“Slanderous, even!” Flam added on.
“No, we've got something else in mind.” Flim said, narrowing his eyes.
“Yeah?” Daring Do stepped back, and began eyeing a replica spear, just in case.
“We're going to bribe you.” Flim said.
“Bribe me?” Daring Do blinked.
“If we are to use an uncouth term.” Flam shot a cross glare at his brother, and then turned back to Daring Do, smiling. “Think of it as a ... business proposition. You obviously know your way around an ancient artifact-- so who better to help us sell our merchandise?”
“You'd be compensated for your trouble, of course.” Flim added on. “Say ... five percent? Gross, not net.”
“I'm not going to work for you.” Daring Do didn't relax.
“Fine, fine.” Flim said with a melodramatic sigh. “Seven percent?”
“Do you really expect me to help you swindle all those ponies outside?”
“Swindle? Swindle?” Flim held a hoof to his chest.
“Slander! Again!” Flam mirrored the gesture.
“What we are doing, missy, is providing a much needed product to a much neglected market!” Flim said.
“Why, you saw the crowd outside!” Flam noted. “Handsome and dashing as my brother and I may be--”
“Which is quite handsome, and even more dashing.” Flim added on.
Flam continued without missing a beat. “There's no way we could gather such a large number of potential customers if there wasn't a long-ignored demand that is only now being filled! Why should centuries old, potentially cursed treasures only belong in libraries, or in the collections of the rich and unscrupulous?”
“You're serious.” Daring Do said.
“No, I'm Flam.” The unicorn winked, and then went on. “And, not to mention, of course, for every one of these replicas my brother and I sell, the demand for the actual artifacts goes down, meaning there's less need for intrepid archeologists to go about risking their lives when a perfectly acceptable (and competitively priced) facsimile is available?”
Daring Do facehooved. “There is so much wrong with that sentence I don't even know where to begin.”
“Then don't!” Flam said, beaming.
“You ... really don't see anything wrong with this plan.” Daring Do said.
“Apart from possibly having to find some new Crowns of Kabrool, no.” Flam said.
“Look.” Daring Do crossed over to poke Flam in the chest. “You think this is an easy way to make a quick bit, but there's a lot of stuff you haven't taken into consideration.”
“Aha! I have found you, Daring Do!” A burly earth pony in a khaki shirt and polka-dotted neckerchief shoved his way into the tent, followed by a trio of even burlier henchponies. “Once again, all I had to do was follow you, and now the treasure shall be mine!”
“See?” Daring Do asided to the Flimflam brothers, and then turned to face her foe. “I should have known you'd show up, Caballeron.”
“That is Doctor Caballeron to you, Daring Do.” The intruder sneered. “Now, make this easy for the both of us, and hand over the Crown of Kabrool!”
“Alright.” Daring Do said with a shrug, and tossed the replica crown at Dr. Caballeron. He fumbled with it for a few frantic moments, coming precariously close to dropping it, but he finally managed to get the crown balanced on one hoof. “Ha! You're getting smarter, Daring Do, knowing full well that you cannot hope to--” he paused, and then squinted at the replica crown. “Wait ... the wirework is all wrong. What are you trying to pull, Daring Do?”
“I'm not pulling anything. It's not my tent. These two, however ... “ Daring Do nodded towards the Flimflam brothers, and then took a step back, allowing Caballeron to get a good look at the several extra identical crowns in the wooden crate.
“What is the meaning of this?” Dr. Caballeron threw the fake crown to the floor and crushed it beneath his hoof.
“Why, it's a business opportunity, my good doctor!” Flim said. “Coincidentally, a business opportunity your nemesis here just passed on. You know what they say: the enemy of my enemy is my business partner! Why, if we had the endorsement of an expert such as the renowned Doctor Caballeron, we could move even more of this merchandise!”
“You idiots.” Dr. Caballeron growled. “Do you really think I'll help you? How am I supposed to earn a dishonest living if you're flooding the market with fakes?”
“We prefer the term replicas.” Flam noted, only to get several angry glares for his trouble.
“I may be a criminal, but I have a reputation to uphold.” Caballeron swept a stack of fake scrolls off a shelf. “Bah! What a waste of time.”
Caballeron turned to leave, but Daring Do stopped him with a hoof on his shoulder. “Say, Flam?” Daring Do said. “Remember when you said you'd never lower yourselves to physical violence?”
“What about it?” Flam blinked, tilting his head to the side.
Daring Do nodded to Doctor Caballeron and his goons. “There are more than a few ponies here that would.”
Caballeron's eyes widened in surprise, and then a smug grin crossed his features. “I could do with some exercise ... “
Flim and Flam backpedaled in unison, stumbling over various items made from tin and paper-mache. “Maybe the antiquities business isn't as lucrative as we thought, Flim.”
“My thoughts exactly, Flam!”
“We'll just, ah, leave the rest of this to the experts.” Flam said, and bolted out the back flap of the tent, Flim hot on his hooves. Caballeron nodded to his minions, and the burly ponies took off at a gallop after the two unicorns.
“For the record, I still hate you.” Caballeron said once he was alone with Daring Do.
“Likewise.” Daring Do shrugged. “Not going to tie me up and leave me in a deathtrap now, are you?”
“Tempting, but no. There'd be no point without a real treasure to fight over.” Caballeron sighed, shoulders slumping.
“I'll find something for you to try stealing from me soon, don't worry.”
“You mean that?” Caballeron perked his ears.
Daring Do smiled, despite herself. “Yeah. I'd hardly be the world's greatest adventurer if I couldn't.”
“More like the world's best-publicized adventurer.” Caballeron scoffed, then paused. “You're ... not going to put this in any of your books now, are you?”
“Of course not.” Daring Do said. “And even if I did, there's no way they'd believe it. My publisher would never let me hear the end of it.”
“Does that happen a lot?” Caballeron held the tent flap open for Daring Do as they made their exit.
“More than you'd think.”
