Mirror Walker

Chapter 11

"Will that be all?"

The sun was burning hot, blatantly beating down against his back and making him sweat before it deftly scurried behind a cloud and gathered its steaming rays along with it, cruelly hiding away its warmth only to blast it again a moment later. It was like an irritable child playing peekaboo. Running a hand through his ruffled chestnut mane, he tore his gaze away from the gypsy boys playing in the street and offered a polite smile to the pretty blond beaming at him, "Well... maybe add in some carrots. Five should do."

She was a stunning girl, hair the colour of molten gold running down in a thick wave over her shoulder as she leaned into the stand and picked out the vegetables, throwing them into the bag prepared for him.

The clatter of wooden sticks made him stray once more to the boys running on the road. They were dressed roughly, dirtied shirts hanging loosely over their shoulders and sneaking out of their trousers in an untucked mess. One's oversized cap wonkily drifted down onto his eyes till he hoisted it up in time to catch his friend's attack, smacking his stick in the air to block the assault. It was amusing watching them, their poor technique painfully apparent to him though he tried to remind himself that once he had been at least ten times worse.

They screamed with joy and exhilaration, taking much glee in something that was simply a game to them and nothing more. He sincerely hoped it remained so for the rest of their lives. However, as the hatted one took on the aggressive, he pushed his rival further and further back, the younger boy losing his confidence and unsteadily shifting his wooden weapon this way and that to try and defend himself. In the heat of the battle, he stumbled into a horse that had been parked behind him, making the creature raise his head hotly and squeal. The boy then lunged into the first, the two fearfully gaping at the creature as it swung its head and stamped its hoof, prepared to bolt when the owner saw and took quick action, grabbing the rein and placing a soothing hand on the animal's face.

Easing its head lower, he shushed it gently then turned to the children crossly, "This is no place for you brats to play!"

They both paled, gulping and huddling together as the lanky stranger loomed over them with his unkempt, greying beard and long hooked nose, brown overalls making it clear that the harvest snugly packed in the wagon belonged to him.

"Go on! Be gone with you! Play out in the woods and out from others' feet! Or I'll have your mother know!"

At that they took off, not taking a second to spare as they clutched their skewed canes and ran into the crowd, causing some to part and watch as they disappeared down the lane. The townsfolk merely shook their heads, stepping onto the neat cobbles once the youngsters had passed and admiring the sign that was being hung above by men wobbling on ladders leaning on the sides as they strung up the rich velvet fabric, golden thread reading, "SPRING FESTIVAL! COME AND BE WELCOME!"

Dozens of others followed, some with the same message, some with others. They all mentioned the presence of a celebration, decorating the streets with their radiant colours and elegant embroidery. There were flowers being pruned on the windowsills and carts starting to set up their stock for that evening, locking away their usual supplies that they had been actively advertising that morning. The town, meanwhile, was thrumming with people, everyone jampacking the avenues and filling them with noise as the lunch hour approached and most had risen from their beds.

"Anything else?" the boys were long gone now, only the humming chatter of strangers echoing along the buildings as well as the murmurings of the farmer, petulantly clutching his bay horse and pulling it along with an ugly squint at the outsider so rudely staring.

That reminded him to avert his eyes, whipping to the girl and nodding, "Yeah, should be it."

"That'll be seven refis and sixty-eight benons."