Page 20 of An Arrow to the Heart

“Morning Sylvie darling, or is it afternoon already, I always lose track at events such as these. And may I just add that you look absolutely riveting, not that I’d expect any less from a beauty such as yourself,” Berengar said with a hideous smirk.

Ignoring his remarks, Sylvie sternly said, “what do you want?”

“I hope that’s not how you talk to all of your customers darling,” he said, squinting his eyes as he looked at a bottle of dandelion psyllium gel he’d picked up, his features pressed tightly into a grimace before placing it back down, patting the top of it after he did so.

“Spit it out or leave,” Sylvie demanded.

“I know you have more,” he let out a heavy sigh, “valuable… items than these, and I also know that you my dear have an appetite for things one can’t simply buy or barter for in the daylight,” he said as he slyly handed her a small piece of paper, after having checked that no-one around them was paying attention which Sylvie promptly took and stuffed into her pockets.

“It’s a bit of a hike from here but you are, of course, as always more than welcome to stay in my lodgings,” he winked at her.

“I’d rather sleep in the bowels of a putrid bog,” she said without a hint of amusement as a chill ran down her spine. She refused to let show just how much this disgusting snake of a man creeped her out.

Thankfully he disappeared into the crowds and she didn’t see him again after that and she let all thoughts of him slip out of her mind. The fair drew to a close and she’d managed to haggle her way into possession of some moth wings, salts of both fire and frost as well as some crimson yamroot. She considered that a good day’s trading.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

-Ardál-

Ardál had made his way to the festival just after noon, he wore his usual attire of trousers and a linen shirt. Though he’d made a special effort, making sure he got a thorough wash, even trimming his beard, he wanted to look his best and he wanted it to be clear that he was feeling much better in himself, his knee barely bothering him now, he was even down to just the one crutch.

He’d decided to leave Phelan with Fermack, for some reason the dog seemed to be really attached to the little beast so he figured it’d be good to keep the cub out of trouble while they were both gone from the cottage. It was a surprisingly pleasant day, the sun high in the sky illuminating the change in seasons. Hues of reds, oranges, browns and yellows were now speckled in amongst the foliage.

He was met with a sea of vibrant stalls, the smell of mouth-watering foods already filling the streets, the sound of chatter and laughter already filling the air.

He only relied on the one crutch as he weaved through the crowds, peeking at the stalls, a steady crowd of punters having already descended on the village.

Ardál was browsing the stalls when something beckoned to him. A necklace had caught his eye, it hung on its black leather cord in the back corner of the blacksmith’s stall. It was perfect, a delicately hand forged curled dragon pendant made of steel, gently swinging in the breeze. He hadn’t planned on buying anything, except perhaps a cheese wheel or two and some treats for Phelan and Fermack.

“Made that one myself, so I did, it’s not the usual kind of thing I make, but I don’t know, I felt compelled somehow,” the blacksmith said, plucking the necklace up, bringing it forth to him. Standing at an impressive height she towered over him and her grey-green skin along with a pair of protruding tusks hinted at her heritage. Despite her undeniably imposing exterior there was a warmth in her amber eyes and she spoke with a surprising softness. Two long dark-haired plaits cascaded over her leather apron and the black dress beneath it.

“It’s stunning,” Ardál said honestly as he nodded along with what she was saying.

“For someone special is it?”

“Yes.”

“Well you can’t go wrong with that. If you ask me, much better than that breakable shiny stuff men are always buying their women.”

“Couldn’t agree more,” Ardál said before paying the blacksmith.

Passing a stall of flowers, the floral scent sticking in his nose, he considered for a moment, if perhaps he should get Sylvie some. Then he remembered that she quite literally grew a rainbow of colourful flowers herself and that her home was already overflowing with them.

“Oh you must be Ardál,” a sweet feminine voice said, the owner of the flower stall.

“Ah, yes.. Sorry I don’t believe we’ve met,” Ardál said scratching the back of his neck, his lips thinned.

“Oh no, of course not, I just wanted to say thank you….. for that day, of the attack,” she said, smiling at him warmly, her eyes shining, “you probably weren’t aware but you saved my sister.”

“Oh, well, yeah of course, no, I mean you don’t need to thank me, I was just doing what anyone would. I’d do the same again in a heartbeat. Is she okay? Your sister, I mean?”

“She’s fine, thanks to you.”

“I’m glad to hear it.”

She reached for a little pink flower as she made her way around to the front of the stall, now standing in front of him. Her strawberry blond hair in a crown braid, adorned with flowers. She looked as much like a flower as those in her stand. She reached up, placing the flower in the breast pocket of his shirt.

“Now everyone will know, you’re a hero,” she said, her hand still outstretched on his chest.