Chapter 3: Through the Tisila Market

“Hits the spot, don’t it?” Tom grinned at Mariella over a steaming bowl of oatmeal heaped with raisins and fresh berries. “Nothin’ better to start the day I say, ‘specially not when ye’ve got such a full day as today!” Mariella found it impossible to return his cheer at such an early hour, but smiled weakly between bites. “Eat up, eat up, we best be on our way.” Tom bounded off to bid Loda farewell, and Mariella slowly got to her feet and made her way to the door, only to trip over Mist, who was washing his paws in the middle of the floor and gave her a disdainful look. He finished grooming, stood and arched his back, and trotted out the door with his tail held high. By the time Mariella made it out to the cart, he was already perched regally in her seat. She shoved him over and was fortunately spared a biting comment by Tom’s arrival.

The ride to the Tisila market was uneventful and relaxing, with birds chirping and flying over head and the breeze that shook the tree leaves keeping them cool under the baking sun. Tom continued to chat merrily about Tisila and the market, though Mariella kept quiet, afraid to give away her complete lack of knowledge about the market and spoiling her disguise. Luckily, Tom put her limited speech down to their early start and teased her for it. It was not until the sounds of the distant market began to reach their ears that Tom said something to startle Mariella into speech.

“’Course no one these days would be buyin’ from Arleden. Nuts, the lot of ‘em. Always thinkin’ they’re better than us, not ‘old-fashioned’ like them Arleden traders say. Cockier than ever, too, now that the High Princess be stayin’ in their main city, at the castle.”

“What? Kiriley’s in Arleden?” Mariella burst out.

Tom raised his eyebrows and chuckled. “Why ye be so surprised, Mari? The Princess has been stayin’ in each kingdom in turn. She was in Arkenshire a few years back now, remember?” He was silent for a moment, caught up in the memory himself. “Not that we were so cocky about it. But that’s Arleden for ye. Say, I never told ye ‘bout the time I saw them, the royal family in Arkenshire! Pretty folk, seemed quite nice, too…”

Suddenly very self-conscious, Mariella quickly turned her face away, pretending to be looking for birds. He hadn’t recognized her yet, and probably wouldn’t, but with the fresh memory of her family, she couldn’t be too careful. And Kiriley was in Arleden. How unfortunate! Mariella doubted she would come close enough to Kiriley to be recognized, but having another Princess about, and the High Princess at that, would make it a bit more difficult to attract the Prince’s affections. Even so, Mariella didn’t doubt her ability to do so, High Princess though Kiriley may be, she wasn’t as pretty, by Traditional standards.

A sudden jerk as the cart came to a stop pulled Mariella out of her musings. They had reached the edge of the market and must proceed on foot, to be buffeted by the crowds. “Where ye be meetin’ your father, Mari?” Tom asked.

“Oh, just down this lane.” Mariella invented and gestured weakly into the crowd.

“Well then, it was a pleasure bein’ your escort here, bid your father good tradin’, and be well!” With that, Tom and his cart and horse were swallowed into the crush of people and carts and booths. Taken aback by his sudden departure, Mariella looked around the find her bearings. It all looked the same, brightly colored awnings draped over merchants shouting prices, waggling their favorite goods under the noses of folks come to barter, haggling over prices until coins or trinkets changed hands. At one booth, Mariella thought she saw a Unicorn’s horn, but when she looked closer to confirm it, a group of rather large women had passed into her line of vision.

“Get your head of the clouds and follow me,” said a voice near her feet. She looked to see Mist winding off between the feet of the crowd. Mariella tried to keep up, but Mist seemed to have chosen the side of the road where everyone was walking the opposite direction. Strangers buffeted her back and forth, occasionally trodding on her toes or tossing strongly worded and rather rude advice at her. Mariella was too afraid of loosing Mist in the crush to reply or move to the correct side of the street. Instead, she issued a constant stream of polite apologies and continued to force her way forward, never able to see more than the white tip of a cat tail.

Finally, her nerves frayed and toes bruised, Mariella burst forth from the crowd into an alley to find Mist calmly washing his tail. “I can’t walk between people’s feet you know!” She cried.

Mist glanced at her. “Not my problem” he said.

“Oh, honestly, can’t you ever be pleasant, or at least mildly helpful!”

He seemed to consider for a moment before answering, “No, why should I? It’s past lunch time and you haven’t feed me.”

Frustrated, Mariella declined to respond and chose to comply with the unsaid request. She sat against the wall and pulled the bundle of food pressed on her by Loda that morning out from her sack. They shared a pie and a tart, and after refusing to let Mist take a nap in the alley, Mariella followed the irate cat back into the throngs of the market. This time at least he lead her on the correct side of the road, even if he still made it difficult for her to keep up.

Once she felt more sure that Mist would not leave her in the middle of the market on purpose, Mariella started to look around her in wonder, taking in every sight, sound and scent. She passed a tall and skinny woman with dark hair wrapped in a tight bun woven with lace bartering for a carved wooden flute with a loud and flamboyant man who was touting his incredible skills with maple wood. The flamboyant little man was hopping up and down as he waved his arms about, pointing to everything from intricately carved animals to a set of simple spoons, which, he claimed, were unbreakable. The skinny woman raised her eyebrows, and reached for the spoon, but seemed to think better of testing his bluff and replaced it.

Next to them three young men were testing daggers from a booth manned by a rich-looking fellow who watched them closely with narrowed eyes. A sword hung at his belt and he looked ready to use it if any of the lads got over-excited with the daggers. Mariella looked around to her other side to discover the cause of a large crowd gathered around a booth with bright yellow drapes. The smells of honey, cinnamon and apple gave it away. After checking that Mist wasn’t too far off, Mariella edged into the crowd. Being so close to so many peasants was unnerving, but her royal life seemed like years ago, not days.

The smell of the apple treats grew stronger as she made it to the front. Behind the counter were three women, one older and commanding, shouting to her daughters behind her to bring more apples from the back.

“How many ye be wanting, miss?” The woman wiped sweat from her brow as she addressed Mariella.

“Two please.” Mariella replied.

“That be two rounders then.” The woman said, and swiftly cored two apples, filled them with honey and spitted them sideways and sent them over the fire pit behind in the corner. She lifted two other spits, capped the apples with the tips of their cores, rolled them in honey, then in cinnamon, and finally passed them quickly through the flames so that the honey coating hardened, and held the treats in front of Mariella. All this she did in only the time it had taken for Mariella to dig out two small round coins from her purse. Mariella thanked the woman and turned, apples in hand, to find Mist sitting at her feet. She grinned.

“Fancy a treat, Mist?” Mariella offered.

Mist cocked his head then led her to an unoccupied curb across the street, next to a gem trader. Mariella laid one apple on the ground and then ate hers, enjoying the sweet, sticky taste. As she ate, she watched the folk who came by the gem trader, all of whom were well dressed and carried an air of importance. A hook-nosed man dressed in simple black uniform and a beady-eyed woman with a remarkably strong chin, also dressed in simple black, were examining a tray of pearls. Both were frowning slightly, eyebrows drawn in. They had a quality about their stance that made them imposing, and a bit frightening. Mariella watched them as she ate. The woman, although dressed in the black cloth uniform, was wearing large amounts of gold and pearl jewelry. A string of very white pearls hung around her neck, along with two gold chains. More pearls on thin gold chains hung from her earlobes and wrapped around both wrists.

She stuck a hand into the basket of pearls on the counter and lifted out a handful. The man poked a few of them into his own palm and brought them close to his face for inspection. Intrigued by the couple, Mariella chewed quieter and tried to listen to what they whispered to each other.

“…won’t like them, not the right color.” The man said.

“He will. See the pink in this one?” The woman replied.

The man shook his head. “No. It’s not right, we need ones…” His next words were covered by the shouts of a group of children running by, “…find them here.”

The woman sniffed and poured her handful of pearls back into the basket. “Fine. But you explain why we’re returning empty handed.” As she turned away from her partner, her beady eyes fell on Mariella, who was busy glaring at Mist for scratching her and didn’t notice.

“Hurry up.” Mist whined. “Unless you want to sleep in the street tonight.”

Mariella stood and patted cinnamon from her lips. “Where are we going now?” She asked as she followed the cat along the street.

“The North End. We’ll catch another ride there, up to the Arleden border if we’re lucky.” He jumped sideways to avoid several booted feet. “Unlikely.”

“Why unlikely? And in that case what will we do?” Mariella began to notice that without the cat, she would be hopelessly lost and have no idea what to do. Not that she intended to admit this, though she was quite sure Mist knew it anyway.

Mist flicked his tail impatiently. “Just follow and keep quiet like a good little Princess, will you?”

“You shouldn’t speak to a princess so,” Mariella retorted primly.

Rather than responding, Mist took off into the crowd, winding between feet. As Mariella dodged folk to keep up, she thought vaguely to herself that this was probably preferable to being forced to talk with the cat, though chasing him was getting tiresome.

Finally, they were out of the crowd and looking at the north-leading road that would take them to Arleden. The sun, which had been high overhead when they parted from Tom now cast long shadows across the road. Mariella felt like she had been chewed up and spat out by the market and the masses who moved among it, which was a bit unsettling and very unPrincesslike. She just wasn’t used to hurrying around, or being surrounded by commoners, or really anything at all to do with markets, and this was the biggest one in all of the kingdoms in Estovina. In the past two days, so much had happened to her that had wrenched her out of her old traditional life that felt like years ago. Needless to say, Mariella would be very glad to finally be in Arleden, back in a proper castle with a proper respect for personal space and a proper rank of household, though she would be in a very different role than she was used to. Of course, this all depended on how unTraditional Arleden was. Even in the face of uncertainty, Mariella felt sure that she would, in time, meet her prince and fall and love, and live Happily Ever After.