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“Here is your wristlet,” said Tina, handing him the amethyst-studded wristlet.
There was much laughter.
I and perhaps one or two of the others had seen her unbuckle it, deftly, lightly, with one hand, while his hand was at her waist. Most of those at the fire were as startled as the handsome young seaman when they saw the wristlet in Tina’s hand.
We gave her much applause.
Chagrined, but laughing, the young man rebuckled the wristlet, and went and sat down by the fire.
“Master,” said Tina.
He looked up.
“Your pouch,” she said, throwing it at him.
There was much more laughter.
“It is not always easy to unknot a pouch,” I told her.
“That is true,” she admitted. She looked at me, and smiled. “The strings, of course,” she said, “might be cut.”
I laughed ruefully. I well recalled how well she had robbed me in our first acquaintance on the wharves of Lydius.
“Rim has been kind enough,” she said, “from the blade of an old shaving knife to supply a suitable implement.”
Rim, from his own pouch, handed up to her a tiny steel half crescent, ground from the blade of a shaving knife. Part of it, wrapped in physician’s tape, was bent and fitted behind her first two fingers. The blade, as it projected from between her two fingers, was almost invisible.
“Master?” asked Tina.
I got to my feet, determined not to be fooled. But when Tina stumbled against me, before I realized it, neatly, the purse strings had been cut.
“Excellent,” I told her. I reknotted the strings, tying them together. I would have a new purse tomorrow.
“Do you think you could do it again?” I asked.
“Perhaps,” said Tina. “I do not know. You are now on your guard.
She passed me once again. The strings were still intact. “You missed,” I told her.
She handed me the contents of the purse. I laughed. She had cut the bottom of the purse, dropping the coins into her hand.
- Hunters

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