So, no intro needed, read on and enjoy! ^_^

~Lainfaer~

Chapter 2: Market Day.

Beinlóth hid her diary under her mattress, smoothed her skirt, and hurried downstairs whilst tidying her hair up.

  Terena stood at the bottom, holding a cloak in one hand, and a basket in the other. "I want you to go to market and buy a few things for me," she told Beinlóth, handing her the cloak. She put it on

"Here are a few silver coins. They should cover it." She gave Beinlóth a pouch of money, followed by the basket.

"I need three legs of lamb, a couple of beef chops, and some herbs for the stock. You know which ones I use. Bit of mint, bit of basil, and a couple of sprigs of parsley. On your way." She bustled Beinlóth out the door, and watched until she had turned the corner towards the market. Then she went back to the kitchen.

  Beinlóth walked along the path beside her fathers' stables. She could hear the horses inside, moving around. She smiled. She loved those horses. They seemed to be her only friends whom she could talk to. She continued along the path to the main square, passing small stone buildings and outhouses.  

  Milathon Square was alive with activity. It was Market Day, and there were farmers, traders, and livestock everywhere. Beinlóth walked around, smiling to herself under her hood. Even though she hated the village in general, it was quite fun going to market. There was always so much going on, so much to see and do. Everyone knew it was she under the hood. She could tell they were pointing and whispering as usual.

"That's the one I was telling you about earlier," she heard one woman say on a nearby fruit stall. She looked over. She knew the woman, but not the man she was talking to. He was clearly a traveller, and Dweissa was the local village gossip, and knew everything about everyone. She loved talking about people behind their backs, especially Beinlóth. She had clearly been telling this traveller all about Beinlóth today.

But she walked on, head held high, ignoring all stares and whispers. She knew there was no point in taking them to heart. She had learnt that a long time ago.

She came to the butchers stall, and bought her mothers required meat. Then onto one of the various vegetable stalls to find the herbs. She knew which one to go to. A fairly old woman called Laraelia ran it. She was one of the few people in the village who did not despise Beinlóth. She was small, with grey hair, and many wrinkles. Yet her eyes were still the same, dazzling green that they had always been. They were the one part of her that remained young. She may have been old, but she knew how to take care of anyone who tried to steal any of her goods. She also lived alone, no husband or children. She was not originally from Milathon. In fact, nobody knew where she came from.

"Good afternoon Fair One," she said when Beinlóth reached her stall.

"Afternoon Laraelia," Beinlóth answered, smiling.

"What does your mother want now?" she asked, a small grin touching her thinned lips.

"Bit of mint, bit of basil, and a couple of sprigs of parsley," Beinlóth recited. It was the same every week.

Laraelia smiled. "She making that stew again?"

Beinlóth made a face. "Yes, unfortunately. Don't tell her I said that whatever you do!" Laraelia laughed.

"Of course I won't Dear One. Here you go then." She put the herbs in small pouches for Beinlóth and handed them to her. "Just one silver will cover it."
"Are you sure Laraelia? I have three here. Don't you want two?"

"No, you go on now. I don't want you getting into trouble. One will be plenty, don't you worry. I've done well today. Off you go, and I'll see you next week."
"Aye, next week," Beinlóth agreed, She handed the kind old woman a silver piece, and walked off, smiling at her.

"Aye, next week maybe," Laraelia whispered to herself as she watched the girl walk away, swinging her basket beside her. "Soon Fair One, it will be over, I promise." Then she started seeing to another customer.

Beinlóth did not hear Laraelia's last words as she walked back through the market to the lane alongside the stables. To amuse herself, she started making up a song. She often did this, as she often had to keep herself entertained whilst doing household chores. She never knew where the words came from; they just flowed like water.

"Long ago, when I was young,

And worries I had not.

A dream I had, whilst sleeping once,

That I have never forgot.

A fair lady came to me,

And unto me she spoke.

'Dear child the time will come when,

You are old enough to know the truth.'

I did not understand my dream,

I was puzzled for a while.

I eventually came to the conclusion that,

She was someone special in my life.

I have never dreamt that dream again,

But remember it I do.

That fair lady, whom I met,

I hope to meet again soon."

It was simple, yet beautiful. Beinlóth smiled to herself as she sang. Her voice was exceedingly fair, and if anyone heard her, they were slightly enchanted. She loved to sing; it was what she was born to do. She would often dance little steps along to her songs, even whilst walking.

She got to the stables, and decided to have a quick peek at her friends. She quietly opened the door, placed her basket on a nearby bale of hay, and went to the nearest stall. She took her hood down and smiled at the bay mare that stood there.

"Hello Kayla," she said, patting her neck. Kayla snorted in response, and nuzzled Beinlóths' face. She laughed.

"You silly girl. How are you today?" Kayla shook her head and pawed the ground.

"I know, I know, its hard being stuck inside, day in, day out. See you later." She stroked her one last time, then went to the next stall.

There was a chocolate brown mare in here, Kaylas' sister. "Lesei, come here," she called over the pen gate. Lesei trotted over and welcomed Beinlóth with a nuzzle.

Beinlóth saw the rest of the horses, then came to the very last pen. Aronuel had found this stallion a few days ago, wandering round the borders of the village, no rider, no saddle, or even any reins. It was a dazzling white, and his mane shone silver in the sunlight. His eyes were dark as Beinlóth walked up to him. So far, she had not been allowed to see him.

"Hello there," she said softly, leaning on the gate. He snorted at her, but stepped a little closer. She smiled at him, and stretched out her hand. "Come on boy, I won't hurt you." He wandered closer, and she stroked his nose.

He felt like pure silk. His coat was warm and glossy, and she marvelled at the velvet-like feel. "You're beautiful," she whispered. "Where do you come from I wonder?"

She suddenly realised how long she had been in there. "I've got to go now," she told him sadly. He snorted again. She laughed. "I'll come back and see you again though, I promise."

She hurried back to her basket, replaced her hood, and stepped silently out of the stables. She slid the blot across, and ran quickly back to the house.

Her mother was waiting in the kitchen. "You been in with them horses again?" Terena asked, not looking at Beinlóth from where she was peeling some potatoes.

"Only for a short while mother. I say hello to them every day." She placed the basket on the table and hung up her cloak.

"You're mad, you know that? No one else talks to horses, 'cept maybe some weird folk. You spend far too much time in there. You get and slice that lamb up. I'm making stew tonight." Beinlóth rolled her eyes. It was the same every Saturday. Lamb stew.

She fetched the meat, washed it off, and started dicing it up. She hated doing this. To think that it was once a living creature, slaughtered for the humans to eat…it sickened her. It was also a very messy job, and by the time she was finished, her hands were covered in the juices out of the meat.

"Wash your hands, and do them carrots next," Terena instructed her. She was making the stock.

Beinlóth did as she was told. This was also the same each week. She would do the meat, followed by the carrots, followed by the washing up. The washing up was the worst part. Terena would always use so much cutlery, and almost every dish she could find. Beinlóth finished the carrots, put them in the pot with everything else, and started running the water.

It was much later in the evening when she finally got some time to herself. After dinner, she had to wash up again, then scrub the table, plus numerous other chores. Then her mother let her go to her room.

She retrieved her diary out from under her mattress, and started writing again.

So, that is the beginning of a new story. Hope you have found it ok so far. Please tell me what you think by the only way possible- review! Any comments, questions etc are very welcome. Chapter 3 coming soon. ^_^

~Lainfaer~