The Huntress

1. Market Mayhem

I jump down off of the hot leather straddle of my favorite horse. She neighs and nibbles at the hay as I tie her to the stable. Corina is her name, and she's worth more than our home. My father has been trying to sell her for years, but I never let him.

Walking out of the barn with my hands full of jam from the market, I walk into the back door of my home. My younger siblings dart around the kitchen around me, hollering about fairies and dragons and whatever else a young child's mind might conjure up. My mother pops her head around the corner, pleased to see my treasures from this week's market, "did you get the strawberry?" Strawberries are a delicacy in Lochland. They grow in fields hundreds of miles away, and they only show up at the market in the fall. That's when the traveling man comes.

I nod enthusiastically, "It wasn't cheap Mama. But the traveling man said he has a lot more, if we run out," I place all of the goods on the rough, untreated, hard oak table. Loafs of freshly baked wheat bread lay on the table, cooling. I watch as Haram nibbles on a cooler piece. I swat his hand away as he tries to grab another.

My mother rounds the corner and enters the kitchen holding my infant sister. She coos as she tugs on my mother's curly blonde hair, "I'll send Nikolas up next weekend. Did you complete your chores today?" She places Miracle in the highchair and begins slicing one of the loafs.

My father enters the house, his palms covered in thick goo from the engines he has been working on. He's the village mechanic. When farming equipment breaks, my father uses his skills to repair them. What he does is like magic. Walking to the sink basin, my father speaks before I can, "Have you been to the market, Giavani? I need some bolts for the Cristman's plow."

"I've just returned, Father. I can go back if you wish," I say, nearing the door.

He smiles to me, "You truly are a blessing, G. Please be safe."

Bidding them my goodbyes, I hop down the back steps of our cottage. The evening sun beats down on my tanned skin. The end of spring is near and the air begins to thicken and choke. The market will soon close, and downtown will be emptied. The people of Lochland aren't fond of being out past dark.

I walk back into the stable where our five horses stay. Corina bucks her head and neighs when she sees me. The rest mind their business, doing their everyday mindless chomping on their hay.

"Hi darling," I say, scratching the long nose of the horse, "we're going back to town."

Saddling the horse, her hooves trot against the rough cobblestone. I have immediate flash backs to being a small child and tripping over the ruts in the path. The stones were laid by hand centuries ago by the founders of Lochland. I lightly touch the scars on my knees that are remnants of my childhood.

By the time I reach the market, the sun is low in the sky. I watch as some vendors close their stores. Thankfully, Mr. Granite keeps the hardware store open all night. You never know when you'll need bolts for an engine.

Jumping from Corina, and tying her to a post just outside, I walk to the door. As I push my way in, my eyes adjust to the dark. The oil lamps bring enough light to see, but it's nothing compared to the sun. Walking through the small aisles, I find the shelves of bolts. Scattered and unorganized, it's hard to find the ones I need, but I've been here enough times on errands for my father that I find them in no time. Gathering the bolts into my hands, I take them to the older man standing near the door.

He takes the bolts from me, inspecting them closely, moving his glasses down his long slender nose, "Do you know what to do with these? You don't look much like a mechanic."

I laugh at the old man, "I'm sure I'll manage just fine Mr. Granite," I say with a hearty smile, pulling the bag on my back around and pulling out three silver coins before putting them in his rough, calloused hand.