A Bad Night In Bridgetown

In Which Saeed Rescues A Prince

In his short time among the plazas of the Patchwork Market Saeed had found himself remarkably comfortable. Despite its eccentricities it reminded Saeed of the place where he had grown up. A short time ago he would have thought about the souk as 'home', now he could not apply that concept to its dusty alleys and faded awnings. Saeed realised that his home had been with Yesha, his mother, when death had come for her his attachment to the souk had ended.

So now Saeed was a little thief without a proper home, seeking one last act of humility. An act that stood a chance of setting him upon the course to redemption. In the mean time...

In the mean time it seemed that he had to wander through a world of strange and wonderful things, and that was not such a bad fate. Sometimes, however, he had to endure the company of tedious people. Sometimes he had to perform tasks that caused him moments of fearful concern. Still, he reasoned, everything worth having has a price attached; a thief should know this better than anyone.

"So, you are really a princess?" Saeed asked the tedious person to whom he was currently attached. It was the morning after their first acquaintance.

"Technically," the rude young woman in dark juggler's garb replied. Her brow appeared to be continuously knit, her lips pinched, her manner terse.

"I have never met a technical princess," Saeed grinned. "There again, my experience of princesses, as a whole, is not extensive."

"You amaze me," the girl replied.

"Princess... Butterstone," Saeed said, testing the water. "As your brother is Prince Butterstone."

"I see why Kalico likes you," Princess Butterstone said drily. "You're a bright boy."

"So, where is your brother?" Saeed asked. "And how may we return him to you unharmed."

"My brother," Princess Butterstone said, fixing her gaze across the gap between the plaza on which they stood and the next. "Is in there. How you and I are going to get in, rescue him and get away unharmed by the time of the closing bell this evening... Well, that's, apparently your part of the plan."

Saeed turned his own attention to the adjacent platform. Unlike all the other plazas that he had seen this one did not bristle with a profusion of coloured pennants and awnings. There were a few market stalls but the awnings above these stalls were all a uniform muddy green-grey. It was impossible, from this distance, to make out what these stalls sold.

The platform was also unusual in that a number of permanent structures obscured the view of its centre. Although each platform tended to be crowded with shop fronts the stalls were often restricted in height. This allowed clear visibility of the high hanging pennants of stalls right the way across the plaza.

Saeed knew that the design of a souk was not as accidental and chaotic as it might appear. Traders came to a complicated number of agreements concerning acceptable behaviour and fair-play. He did not doubt that the reason for the high visibility across platforms was out of one of these arrangements. The inhabitants of this plaza did not adhere to the general rule. Saeed guessed that the only reason for this could be that one person controlled the entire plaza.

"What is that place?" Saeed asked the princess.

"That is Sir Vaskorn's plaza," Princess Butterstone told him. "He has innovated in market trading. He offers the wealthy patrons of the Patchwork Market the sale of military services."

"Military services?" Saeed asked, not sure that he understood.

"If an ambitious noble has more wealth than available manpower he can hire an army from Vaskorn. The soldiers will work until a campaign is complete, or until the money runs out."