28th
The Market
Although it took a little convincing from the tip of a sharp and very real sword, I agreed to remain calm and allow myself to be taken to see a man they called the constable. His name was Edris they told me and he was in charge of the town’s militia, Orindale’s local “police” force. ‘At least I was getting somewhere’ I thought as they led me up the main road into what looked to be the town’s marketplace.
It was an amazing sight. There were wooden carts of all shapes and sizes strewn about the square filled to the top with fresh vegetables, exotic lamps, jewelry and other wares. There were small tents and lean-to’s in the open spaces between the shops and buildings. There was even one man peddling his manure to another who eventually traded one of his sad looking mules for a small cartful of the stuff. I don’t think I’ve ever smelled anything quite like it to be honest, but it didn’t seem to bother either of the hagglers.
A number of the merchants were obviously well to do with fancy clothing and lots of jewelry from gold to silver to precious jewels. Some even had hired muscle for protection. These rough looking men were clearly armed with a variety of different weapons, but my escorts paid them no mind.
The market surrounded a round platform surrounding a large well, perhaps twenty feet in diameter. A young woman was there now, filling two wooden buckets with water. Nearby a young boy with a mop of hair and ragged clothes played with a toy sword made of wood, swinging it back and forth, battling some imaginary beast. He saw the guards with me and ran down the steps of the dais towards us with his sword pointed towards my mid section.
He stopped a few feet away as one of the guards waved a gloved hand towards the boy. He cocked his head when he got a better look at me, “Where are you from?” he asked innocently.
I kept walking, but turned my head towards him, “Nowhere you know kid.” I said stoically. The boy didn’t miss a beat.
“Are there dragons there? Cause we hads a dragon here last week an’ he ate some sheep. I’m gonna help fight it, if it ever comes back.” he said proudly, swinging his sword.
“Dragons?” I said as I stopped, turning towards him.
“Ya. Father says it was only a youngling though.”
One of the guards leaned forward then and told me to keep moving. I waved to the little boy and started walking again. I assumed the boys’ father kept him entertained with fairy tales and bedtime stories of dragons and heroes. Judging from the land I had passed over, wolves came to mind as the more likely culprits.
As we continued on, I tried to ignore the number of people that glanced our way. Thankfully, the presence of the guards with me saved me from enduring their stares for long and no one else seemed interested in starting up a conversation. We passed two other guardsmen along the way who stopped to inquire about me, mainly out of curiosity. The bearded guard explained simply that I was a foreigner and they were taking me to the barracks. The other two shrugged it off.
Towards the end of the market I saw the old farmer, Grainger, hocking his vegetables under a piece of cloth held up by four long branches. He smirked as he watched us pass by. “I told ya boy, rudeness gets ye nowhere.”
“Thanks for the tip Grainger, I’ll have to remember that.” I shot back at him with a sideways glance.
The old man chuckled at the sound of his name. “Now there’s a start!”
