Harmindon's Finest

Chapter 3 - Miarka Is Blue

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The main marketplace in the City of Many Waters is a very interesting place. It was where people met with their friends and family, where giggling young children chased each other around the square, dashing in and out from doorways and across the street, paying no heed to the people and animals in their way.

It was also the place where people go to shop.

One could buy literally almost anything in the colourful bustle of stalls. A large variety of savoury and sweet food, household equipment from chairs to braided rugs to intricately carved cutlery, candles in a myriad of colours, pottery, toys and sweetmeats for children, and, of course, clothes.

There were so many seamstresses vying for customers in the great marketplace that it was a miracle that I managed to sell anything at all. The problem was, however, that all the local women had long ago picked their favourites and refused to go to anyone else. The women that gathered in clumps around various stalls with their shawls wrapped tightly around their dark hair, gossiping about husbands and servants and whatnot, didn't even give me a second glance.

I however knew some tricks about the marketplace that Mother had taught me. I would go very early in the morning, at the literal crack of dawn, to sell my wares. This was the time when people came to the market to actually buy whatever they needed, as they knew all the produce would be the freshest then. Everyone knew this, it was common sense, but many seamstresses did not bother getting up early as their wares would not go off.

Around noon, I would browse through the stalls that sold the raw materials of my trade, thread and fabrics and such, and then go home and sew.

This particular morning I had accidentally slept in, much to my disgust, and was sitting silently at my stall much later than my usual time. I was busy jealously watching the lady across the square making a mint from the horrid magenta shawls on her display, when a voice broke through my reverie.

"How's business?"

My friend Thekla sneaked behind me while I was staring into space with my chin resting on my fist with boredom. She put her hand on my shoulder, and I jumped. Laughing, she picked up the deep red shawl I had on display, the painted wooden beadwork neatly holding despite my best friend shaking it out wildly.

"You know well what business is like," I replied, glaring at the two women I had been eyeing earlier across the square who seemed to be flat out ignoring me. "Now put that back, nobody will buy it if you get it all dusty." Thekla smiled pityingly.

"Oh no, my friend, I am displaying to potential customers the strength of your beadwork." This was all well and good, but at that moment I heard a familiar pattering of feet, and a familiar voice shrieking my name.

"Jeddah! Come quickly!"

Normally I would have paid Miarka no heed whatsoever, but I detected a genuine note of panic in her voice. She probably wanted me to kill a spider, or something. Rolling my eyes, I asked Thekla to mind the stall and went after my little sister. I found her down a little alley, hidden in the shadows.

"Come out, you rascal, I cannot see you in there! Why are you hiding in the dark?"

"I can't come out! Oh Jeddah, I have done something awful!" She wailed, clutching at the shawl that covered her head. This was the moment I really began to get suspicious - Miarka never wore shawls. It was not usual practise for children anyway. I reached out to pull it off but she shied away like a scared pony, clutching it tightly. It even covered her face.

"I can't take it -"

Being the elder sister has many advantages. I stepped nimbly around her and unwound the shawl. The small part of my mind not shocked at what was underneath noticed in indignation that it was one of my own shawls.