‘Who are you, kind sir?’ I asked cautiously, approaching the hooded man who stood next to my steed. His cloak was old and tattered, covered in holes and loose stitching – except for his cowl, which had been maintained meticulously so that only shadow touched his features.
‘Me?’ he asked. His whole body began to shake with a terrible hacking sound, that I soon discerned was laughter. ‘Me, good sir? Oh, I am nobody. Less than nobody – I dare not even do the bidding of the greater nobodies who stand as giants above me!’
‘And yet you would do me this kindness of showing me to a good local mechanic near Frankston, with cheap prices?’
He didn’t say anything to that, but turned his head slightly. I had the uncomfortable feeling that my very soul was subject to his hidden gaze.
‘Well,’ I said eventually, clearing my throat in a nervous manner. ‘Would you be so kind, I would appreciate your direction.’
‘No direction will arrive thee at this destination,’ the man shook his head. ‘For this journey, you shall have need of a guide.’
‘A guide, you say?’ my gaze narrowed suspiciously. ‘Pray, would I find such a guide in your own good self?’
‘You would,’ he nodded slowly.
‘For a handsome fee, no doubt.’
‘You wound me with such misjudgement,’ the man said, his voice turning cold as he cast his face aside. ‘I have asked for nothing, have I not?’
‘Charlatans always wait until the last before revealing their game!’ I cried. ‘Why I bet there is no such mechanic in Frankston! I would wager there isn’t even a mechanic around Frankston to do a roadworthy certificate for my car!’
‘Would you, good sir?’ the cloaked man asked, craning his head back towards me. For the briefest of moments, I thought I saw a flash of gold brighten the shadows where his eyes would be. ‘Would you make such a wager?’
The crowd that had stood silently watching us turned its attention keenly to me, every eyeball marking my smallest movements. A gauntlet had been thrown down – and they awaited my picking it up.