Chapter 11

…A day or so before the present time and Malik's summoning by the Pharaoh…

Bakura leant against the side of the cabin watching the houses, and people pass by as they silently glided up one of the canals, the boat driver did not even notice their presence evenas they jumped off the side when it neared the canal bank just south of where it would eventually stop and unload.

Marik lead the way through the back alleys and side streets, heading towards the busier city centre before slipping into the crowds that were still moving about at the early evening. Malik had stayed true to his word. A few nights after Malik ran off after learning the truth, Duke had discretely informed him that his and Mariks descriptions were known and wanted by the guards. They even seized the house however he still managed to sneak back for one or two things. It didn't matter too much; they had a new place. Bakura smirked at the thought, Egypt's worst killer and greatest thief living in a section of a temple where no one besides the High Priest, and on certain dates and festivals, the Pharaoh could ever enter; it was ingenious.

Bakura shook his head to stop himself from laughing; he never would have guessed it was the High Priest sending the letters to Marik with the names and locations of the pharaohs most devoted followers. Glaring at Marik's backhe still thought he could have told him instead of keeping him in the dark for years then suddenly up and hurrying him out of the old house. He remembered the fear he felt as Marik led him through the city and walked straight up to the door of the Hight Priests residence and then the utter confusion as they were admitted entrance buy the guards themselves. It didn't even matter that much that Malik had presented the information regarding their identities; a simple hood did the trick. Travelling only at night and early morning made it easier as well with people only concerned for their own business and eager to get home to their families and such.

Walking a few meters behind Marik, Bakura took a few quick steps towards the shadows as he spotted two of the patrol guards only to be nearly knocked off his feet as someone ran into him. Regaining his balance easily Bakura glared down at the boy who hadn't been so talented. The white haired boy was scrambling to pick up his belongings that had scattered all over the street without getting in the way of the other people. Bakura, curious, picked up a few packages and read some of the labels, one was that of a commonly known mixture that helps with baldness… Bakura stared down at the boy a puzzled expression on his face. The boy couldn't have been any older than 16 and his hair, lose, flowing, silvery strands didn't look like that of some balding old man.

The boy was now standing in front of him with a clumsy, apologetic smile plastered across his unusually pale face. Everything made sense when he handed the boy back his belongings and got his first good look at the boy's body. He wore a plain, short, tattered kilt with a shirt in matching condition, what resembled a rope collar around his neck and no shoes. Obviously a slave. Looking at the boy's body once more Bakura almost thought 'sex slave', however who would be stupid enough to ruin a perfectly good boy by sending him out on errands, let along risk losing him to someone much like himself.

Bakura glanced around the passing crowds, looking for someone who was probably balding, figuring he would take the kid off the mans hands for sheer stupidity, he came up short. Looking back towards the boy he disappointedly watched as the youth suddenly lurched backwards.

"He hasn't been causing you any trouble has he?"
Bakura looked over the boys shoulder at the older man who was attaching what looked like a leash to that which was around the boy's neck, he smirked at the old man before rplying.
"No trouble to me… but he looks like he's been causing you quite a bit," Bakura sneered reaching out and running a finger along the boys face and down along his neck, "how about I buy him off you and save you the trouble," he added looking back at the man, annoyed to seem him laughing whole heartedly.
"I do have a lot of wealth to my name," Bakura added glaring at the man, wondering if he was so thick that he thought he was joking.
"He's not for sale, you wouldn't believe how much this boy cost me; now come Ryou," the man ordered as he tugged on the makeshift lead almost causing the boy to fall over.

Bakura glared at the mans back and almost considered trying to beat some sense into the dense mans head. Part of him was so eager to do so that he found himself following the pair until of course they entered one of the estates along the street. Sighing in frustration Bakura realised what he was originally out here to do and glanced around at the crowded streets in agitation; it was going to set him back a lot of time trying to find Marik and even more brain work than he was willing to put in to try and remember the address Seto had given them.