Harmindon's Finest

Chapter 8 - She Meant Well

•●•●•●•

Summer was over, and though the sun still shone brightly and fiercely, there was less heat in its glare.

In truth, when Princess Túrien left for her homeland, my normal routine seemed a little lifeless. I woke early as usual, dragged my things to the marketplace, spent the morning scowling under the welcome shade under the awnings while nobody even lingered for a moment to look at my stall. I went home every afternoon, sewed without any particular passion or inspiration until I was to entirely sick of it that I stalked off to let off some steam in the baths.

And then I went to bed, and then I woke early as usual, and.... it just repeated, over and over, the sheer monotony of it nearly driving me mad. I envied my sister, watching her run to where the Golden Serpent only knew with her little friends every morning, with unbearably mischievous smirks on their angelic little faces.

One morning, though, Miarka's antics livened up my foreseeable future through, unusually for her, a complete accident.

One morning the sun was just beginning to rise one the horizon and sent streaks of dusky pink across the greying sky. It was a chilly morning, and if I was not carrying my various parcels I would have rubbed my bare arms. I knew that, all too soon, it would be warmer as the sun slowly extended its golden light, but at the moment the streets were in shadow and a stiff breeze, which would be a welcome relief in late afternoon, sent gooseflesh up my skin and I shivered. It amazed me how the temperature in the desert could change so quickly.

I stood for a few minutes, staring at my obscure little stall. A stand would be a more appropriate term, for it was little more than a table wedged into an inconspicuous corner of the large open square. To my right was a popular fruit vendor, who was arranging her coconuts in a pyramid as I stood lost in thought. She was a kindly woman, one of the few who had taken Miarka and I under their wing for the few days between Mother's death and Grandmother's arrival. She always smiled kindly at me but I suspected she could not take me seriously, childlike as I was even though my fifteenth birthday was just past.

I blinked, and busied myself with arranging the glorified table with bright silks and embroidered gauze. The basket of scarves here, the shawls folded over each other attractively, veils fluttering from under the awnings. I sighed, sat down on the three-legged stool behind the counter that wobbled because one of the legs were crooked, and cupped my face in my hands, preparing myself for the boredom that awaited me.

"Good morning!"

My ears perked up at the familiar high voice, like that of a panpipe - it was Miarka. She often showed up to speak to Thekla and I, pretending to be one of the 'big girls.' Either that or she came to hide from one of the women she'd angered through her pranks.

Although, she wasn't addressing me- she was talking to Riyadh, the fruit merchant. I eavesdropper shamelessly as she wheeled and charmed her way to the top coconut on the pyramid. She swung her way around the counter, elbowed her way between our stalls and edged onto my stool. It wobbled uncertainly, nearly upsetting us both, and we giggled.

"What is that for?" I asked, meaning the coconut. "Us, silly," Miarka said, reaching up to tap my head affectionately with the comically hairy brown fruit. "You woke me up early this morning, you beast, and we haven't had breakfast yet. I am not bothered to cook anything, so here we are."

Her thoughtfulness made my eyes prickle, and I blinked, horrified I was so close to tears. I ignored my emotions though and frowned, putting on my best big sister voice. "Miarka, it's not usual practise to just ask for things, you know that. You have to pay for them, or barter with something else. You won't get away with acting sweet and innocent when you get older."