A/N: Thanks to my faithful reviewers. I added a minstrel just for you! Everyone else, apparently reviews minstrels??
Sadly, the Sophie-bashing continues. Guess who's back…
Chapter Six: The Fair
Sophie gasped involuntarily as she stepped out into the cold winter air. The wind held the faint promise of snow, and she thought that it would likely be coming down in sheets before sunset. As she stepped off the stoop and out into the bustling street, she saw that Ell looked much the same as it always did. The shop opened on to main street, and Sophie could see the familiar shop fronts of the blacksmith, the wheelright, the baker and the butcher.
Out past the peaked roofs of town, deep green hills stretched in all directions, dotted with the small shapes of barns and farmhouses. In Ell, magic was for rich folk, or for tradesmen like Londer who made it their living. Most villagers knew some simple healing and protection wards, but they hadn't had the need or inclination to learn more.
Sophie set off down the street, heading toward the faint noises of revelry that echoed through the town. Normally she would avoid such entertainment as a fair at all costs. But now, with her uncle's worried face lingering uncomfortably in her mind, nothing sounded better than losing herself in a whirling crowd. As she came closer, Sophie saw that, predictably, the fair had set up on the village green, the only remotely clear area in the little town. Then she rounded the last corner, and her eyes widened
The fair filled the square to bursting, with revelers spilling over to the surrounding streets. A gaily painted tent took up a whole corner of the green, the intermittent cheers from within marking it as belonging to the acrobats and animal-handlers. Opposite the tent, rough boards had been fashioned into a crude stage. From the fairs she had been taken to long ago, Sophie recognized the performance as some kind of pantomime. At the moment, a reed-thin man dressed in a ridiculous ruffled collar was gesturing obsequisly to a crowned, corpulent actor meant obviously to be a king. There was also a minstrel, she noticed. He was playing a very flat tune on some kind of flute and he looked as if he hadn't eaten in a week, but he still drew a small crowd; Sophie hoped that the man would at least make enough for a decent meal.
Any clear space not occupied by the tent or stage, Sophie saw, was taken up by vendors' stalls of every imaginable type. There was wine and pasties, hair ribbons and horseshoes. One bustling stall had
sparkling bottles that promised luck, attraction, beauty and any number of other enticements. Sometimes, she knew, such things actually had magic. Down-at-heel noblemen and enchanters occasionally set up booths to bring in a bit of extra income. But these bottles looked more than a little dodgy, Sophie thought with a smile; the buyer was more likely to end up with spots or green hair.
Between the stalls, jugglers wended their way, tossing everything from rings to what looked like kitchen knives. The smells of grease and spilt wine rose on the air, providing fitting compliment to the raucous, milling crowd. Looking about her, Sophie saw no one she recognized. The fair, she realized, had attracted visitors from far outside of Ell. Taking in the entire sight, she felt more than half inclined to turn back the way she had come. Quickly, before her courage deserted her, she plunged into the throng.
The crowd had a mind of its own, pushing and pulling her with equal fervor. Eventually she managed to find a relatively clear area around a pasty stand, and she lingered there, eating one and watching the commotion. She must be getting used to the noise, Sophie thought, because it didn't seem nearly as loud. She was even beginning to enjoy it. She turned, thinking vaguely about perhaps going to the acrobats' tent. Then, without any warning, something collided with her.
The impact wrenched her off her feet, and Sophie landed on her hands and knees in the dirt. Breathless, plams stinging, she found herself staring at a very polished pair of leather boots. She followed them upward, past long, lean legs and an impeccably tailored coat...to a very familiar face.
"You!" The exclamation was involuntary. For a moment Sophie simply stared at Jaden in shock, unable to believe her horrible luck. Then she was furious.
"How dare you!"
With an unreadable expression, Jaden reached out and effortlessly pulled her to her feet.
"My apologies, miss…Sophie, wasn't it? I didn't intend to run you over. Are you unhurt?
In truth, Sophie was more than a little dizzy, but she roughly shook off his solicitous arm.
"You followed me!"
A look of faint offense crossed Jaden's face, and he arched a brow.
"I assure you, I did nothing of the sort."
"Then how did you find me?"
To Sophie's consternation he looked amused.
"You think highly of yourself, don't you? I had no intention of finding you; I merely wanted to see the sights."
Sophie eyed him skeptically. With his aristocratic face and glowing hair, he looked like the last person who would enjoy a bawdy country fair. As if to confirm her speculation, a breeze brought a faint wave of stench washing over them and Jaden's nose wrinkled. Recklessly, Sophie decided to call his bluff.
"You're lying."
Jaden stepped closer. He towered over her, the top of her head barely reaching his chin, but Sophie refused to be intimidated. She raised her face to glare at him and their eyes locked.
It was strange, she thought; this close, his eyes weren't green at all. They had flecks of gold and silver, and they glittered with something that was not quite human. They were like the eyes of some fey prince, come to bear away his mortal bride—
Sophie wrenched her gaze away, appalled at her fancy. Jaden was no fairy, and he most certainly was no prince. She winced. She had thought that her foolish childhood daydreams were safely behind her.
She turned, giving Jaden her back.
"I'm leaving. I ask you not to follow me."
It was rude, but she didn't care. Then Jaden reached out and seized her arm in an unbreakable grip.
"Please, let me escort you."
His voice was the picture of politeness, and Sophie entertained the appealing thought of digging her heel into his leather-clad shin. But now people were staring at them. It was not fair, Sophie thought sourly, that he was so ridiculously handsome. Jaden drew the eye, and a small crowd had gathered, clearly waiting for her to make a scene. Sophie refused to give them the satisfaction. With dignity, she carefully placed her gloved hand on his arm.
She had no idea where Jaden was leading her; he wended through the crush seemingly without purpose, and she was too short to see if there was anything up ahead. His hold on her was gentle but firm; unless she wanted a monumental commotion, there was nothing for it but to follow his lead. The thought made Sophie seethe. When they got clear of this crowd…
Uncomfortably aware of the warmth of his arm under her glove, she tried once more to tug her hand away.
"Do I frighten you?".
"Not at all."
Jaden cocked his head at her, and suddenly he looked concerned.
"You haven't been sleeping."
"The shop is busy. Some of us do have to work for our living."
"Ah." He paused, ignoring the barb. "I hope that our last meeting didn't…distress you."
Sophie was half-tempted to lie, but in the end years of good breeding won out.
"It isn't that."
"Something else is the matter, then,"
Sophie cursed herself for her loose tongue. When would she ever learn to keep her mouth shut?
"It's none of your business."
Jaden looked as if he wanted to keep interrogating her, but in the end he simply shrugged and continued walking. With surprise, Sophie suddenly noticed that he had led her to the outskirts of the fair. The whirl of people had vanished almost entirely, and she could see past the stalls to the farms beyond the village. Finally, he stopped. Sophie wrenched her arm free and whirled on her heel, fully intending to start walking home. Whatever Jaden wanted to say, he'd be saying it to her back. But then, struck by an impulse she didn't fully understand, she paused.
She cast a surreptitious glance around. Apart from a woman idly shuffling a deck of cards in a stall, there was no one near enough to hear their conversation. Before she could think better of it she blurted out,
"How much?"
"Pardon?"
Jaden had been staring into the distance. Now he turned to her, surprised. Sophie gathered her pelisse a little more tightly around herself.
"How much would you pay?"
She saw understanding come across his face, and he named a figure. Sophie had to stifle her gasp. Such a sum would account for her uncle's debt, with some to spare. It might even pay off the rest of the shop! No sooner than she thought it than Sophie felt overwhelmingly guilty. Selling one's dreams was not something to be celebrated. And yet…
"Are you reconsidering my offer, Sophie?"
She looked at Jaden intently. She expected to see triumph, but to her surprise there was none. He looked tired, and melancholy. Then the usual aristocratic mask came down and the expression was gone. Discomfited, Sophie didn't answer. Jaden's voice was soft, persuasive.
"One dream won't hurt anyone, my dear. Choose whatever you wish. Something completely ridiculous, something you know you'll never do. You won't even notice it's gone."
"It's illegal."
Sophie knew it was a feeble excuse but it was all that came to mind. Jaden had the nerve to chuckle.
"That isn't a concern, as well you know. I doubt either of us will go running to the law."
The man was too intelligent for his own good, Sophie though sourly. Much as she hated it, he had a point. In Ell, the law consisted of one corpulent constable who was otherwise the town baker. He would never find out. And how much would she miss one dream, really?
When Jaden first offered it hadn't seemed like a choice at all. But now, with the poorhouse looming, everything was muddled. One dream stood between Londer and a horrible fate. If that dream could save her uncle, wasn't it the height of selfishness to keep it for herself? And if she were being honest, Sophie also feared for her own future; the life of a destitute young woman was not an easy one. Just one deal with the devil, Sophie thought bitterly, and all her troubles would be solved.
As he had the first time they met, Jaden held out a card. With a hand that only shook a little, she took it.
"If you wish to meet again, hold the card and say my name."
He reached out one gloved hand and brushed a wisp of hair out of her face. The motion was so quick that Sophie half-thought she had imagined it. Then he turned on his heel and strode back into the heart of the fair.
