[Aylwen Dreamsong]

Aylwen, Castar, and Windheneb continued their trek through the market well on to noon. They passed by bricklayers and bakers, glassblowers and herbalists, jewelers and shoemakers, not to mention the frequent jesters, acrobats, and minstrels. Many times the group of three would stop for a time at the wishes of Windheneb to speak with women who he thought fancied him. At these many stops, Winny would talk and flirt with several women at once, while Castar and Aylwen would walk together and look at whatever booths and businesses were closest.

"So you only come here every few months for the Market?" Aylwen asked Castar as they watched a few older women braid hair for money. Windheneb was flirting with one of the young ladies getting her platinum blond hair braided, and was helping her choose the ribbon color as his friend and Aylwen spoke. Castar nodded in response to Aylwen's question, and winced as he watched an elderly woman tug at a little girl's hair to make the braid tight. Aylwen laughed. "The price of beauty, for some women, is painful. But for them it is not in vain, especially with men like Winny floating around the market."

When Winny was done flirting with the women at the braiding stall, the group moved on ever slower as Windheneb stopped more often to speak with women. Sometimes it was quick chatter, but other times Winny would talk for what seemed like hours. Castar was anxious to find the face painter, and Aylwen wanted to return to her duties at the White Horse, for she had already been out for most of the day.

"Forgive me Castar, but the day is no longer young and I have been away from the White Horse for much longer than I had anticipated. Perhaps we will meet again, but until then, it was wonderful meeting you," Aylwen said to Castar when Winny decided to stop to speak to a woman acrobat. Aylwen hugged Castar, and before she left him she said, "Castar, the face painter is across the market way from the man selling quilts. Over there."

After pointing Castar in the right direction and waving goodbye, Aylwen turned away and made her way through the market back towards the White Horse. It was late afternoon already, and the sun was already descending on the horizon. When Aylwen had escaped the frenzy of the market and was on the main road back to the White Horse, she began to murmur a little tune to herself:

Tell me the tales that to me were so dear,
Long, long ago, long, long ago,
Sing me the songs I delighted to hear,
Long, long ago, long ago.

Now you are come all my grief is removed,
Let me forget that so long you have roved.
Let me believe that you love as you loved,
Long, long ago, long ago.

Do you remember the paths where we met?
Long, long ago, long, long ago.
Ah, yes, you told me you'd never forget,
Long, long ago, long ago.

Then to all others, my smile you preferred,
Love, when you spoke, gave a charm to each word.
Still my heart treasures the phrases I heard,
Long, long ago, long ago.

Tho' by your kindness my fond hopes were raised,
Long, long ago, long, long ago.
You by more eloquent lips have been praised,
Long, long ago, long, long ago.

But, by long absence your truth has been tried,
Still to your accents I listen with pride,
Blessed as I was when I sat by your side.
Long, long ago, long ago.

By the time the last verse and the last hum of Aylwen's voice had faded on the warm summer air, the Assisstant Innkeeper was back at the White Horse. The White Horse was attended at that time only by Bethberry, but Aylwen was glad for the Innkeeper's presence, so that Aylwen could deliver the thistle bracelet she had purchased for Bethberry.

[ August 03, 2003: Message edited by: Aylwen Dreamsong ]