[Idgian]

If Madi had ever had a more important mission, he couldn’t think of it. He scurried towards the market, tightly clutching the money in his small fist. With his face deeply hidden in the depths of his hood, he looked no more than an excited child.

He couldn’t believe Berry had agreed to set him to work already. That meant he was in line for some nice. All he had to do first was complete this simple chore – and it was simple for Berry told him so – and return to the inn with a blue satin bolt . . . whatever that was!

Madi could see the market square now, and the lines of stalls stretching ahead in the distance. He quickened his pace, and had to stop himself squealing with excitement. The other people travelling to market chattered among themselves oblivious to the impish figure dodging and weaving between them.

When Berry had taken him in last night, Madi immediately felt peaceful in her presence. The inn held many sights and colours for Madi’s quirky senses to taste and hear. He remembered fondly the moment Berry had sat him down and asked questions of his past. It had been some time since anyone took an interest in Madi.

It had been just after the angry kitchen man had thumped a pot of honey and a plate of rye bread down on the table, along with a hot chocolate for the strange newcomer. Madi and Bethberry sat looking at each other across a table beside the dying embers of a fire.

“Madi, will anyone be missing you?” Bethberry asked once the kitchen man had left the hall.

Madi wasn’t listening. He had noticed a red flower, set in a huge bunch of white lilies, and was transfixed by it.

“Madi!” Bethberry stressed. Instantly she won back the little man’s attention. “Will anyone be looking for you?”

“No,” replied Madi, as if the answer were obvious.

“What about your family?”

Madi shrugged. “Don’t know. Never met them!”

Bethberry sighed. “Let’s try this a different way. You tell me where you’ve come from, okay?”

“Mini Trith.”

Bethberry looked at Madi, long and hard. “Do you mean Minas Tirith?” she asked after a moment.

Madi rolled his big, dark eyes. “Madi said that: Minky Ting!”

Bethberry let it go, and gave a tired chuckle. “And what were you doing there?”

“Helping Master Jian,” Madi replied, and took a long noisy slurp of his chocolate. “Jian gave Madi nice,” he added reflectively, and wiped chocolate froth from the end of his nose.

“Then why did you leave?”

The impish figure gazed forlornly into space. His eyes began to moisten and his lower lip trembled. “Before Master Jian, people chased ugly Madi.”

Oh my, Bethberry thought, the sight of him frightened people. He was shunned. “This Master Jian took you in as a helper? He showed you kindness?”

Madi nodded, shaking a single tear onto his cheek. “Master Jian was old. He died. Madi was ugly again and ran away.”

“And you ran all the way here,” Bethberry whispered. Because you were too frightened to stay, she added mentally. “Well, you’ve come to the right place, Madi,” she said brightly, ruffling his unruly, black hair, and wiping the tear from his cheek. “We’ve an abundance of kindness here.”

Madi gave a cautious look at the kitchen door, and lowered his voice to a whisper. “Even the kitchen man?”

Bethberry gave out a light, rich laugh and patted Madi’s hand. “You little dear,” she chuckled. “I think perhaps you have had more than your fair share of questions for one night. Eat some of this honey and rye, and then sleep. We’ll talk more tomorrow.”

A rush of sound assaulted Madi’s senses and he came back to the present. He was in the thick of the market square now, and the atmosphere was almost overwhelming. He stood still and allowed the wash of noise to flow over him. This truly was a good place.

A bellowing voice, loud enough to be heard above the crowd’s tumult, reached his ears. It advertised wares for a stall. “Silks and satins! Sack-cloth and linen!”

Satin, thought Madi excitedly, and he made his way towards the sound of the voice.

There was something troubling Madi about his new friend, Berry, something he couldn’t shake. Last night, during their conversation and the immense kindness she had shown him, Madi realised that he couldn’t quite place the colour of her scent. It was a curious thing, but Madi associated different people with different colours. Each colour bore a particular smell. Usually they were variants of reds, greens, and blues, but with Berry he could smell an off-colour, a shade he’d never seen before, and now he was worried. Berry wanted him to buy her blue, but that was not Berry’s smell. She was not a blue person. Surely that meant he was buying the wrong thing!

He came to a stall displaying many different materials. The owner was a thin man, with dark coloured, sunburnt skin. He smiled wolfishly, and charmed a small group of women who paused to view his wares. Uninterested with the man’s banter, Madi crept closer to view the colours of the materials, using the bustling woman to hide him.

It wasn’t that Madi felt Berry didn’t understand her colour; she was, after all, a good and clever person. She was just unaware of it. He was sure. And as he spied some fine, blue silk on the stall, and sniffed deeply, he became positive of the fact. Berry did not realise that blue was not her colour.

Madi needed to remedy the situation. Trouble was he didn’t know the name of her colour smell. He could almost picture the shade in his head, but it always turned into the colour of the honey he’d eaten last night, for some reason. He scanned the rest of the materials on the stall. There was a red that came near, a yellow also, but none matched the scent of Berry.

Madi turned from the stall, hands on hips, and scoured the market place. He was determined to find the colour and return it to his new friend. It had to be somewhere. She would be so pleased if he could find her true colour. But where to find it!

A smell suddenly filled his nostrils, and Madi flinched. He looked about frantically, expecting to see the Landlady of the White Horse close by. But she was nowhere in sight. Madi sniffed the air again. Something near had the same colour scent as Berry! He closed his eyes, and followed the smell. After a few moments, which included curses by those who nearly trampled upon the small hooded figure, Madi bumped his forehead against the lip of a stall, and fell hard on his behind.

As Madi rose, simultaneously rubbing his head and rump, the owner of the stall peered over at him.

“Are you all right, little one?” she asked.

Madi ignored the question. He was staring at a small glass ball, sitting in amongst many other trinkets on a purple cushion. It sparkled dully in the sun’s light: not quite red, not quite yellow. He tried to grab it, but his arm wasn’t long enough.

The stall owner chuckled. “Here,” she said, “Do you want to see this?” She picked the ball up between thumb and forefinger. Madi nodded enthusiastically and held out a grabbing hand.

“It’s made of amber,” the stall lady said and dropped it onto Madi’s out-stretched palm.

“Amber,” Madi whispered. The word tasted right. He smelt the ball’s colour to make sure. A heady scent filled his nostrils and he sighed. There could be no mistake. Berry’s colour was Amber!

“You’ll have to pay for it, if you want to keep it,” The trinket seller said, a little distrusting of the small, hooded figure.

Madi frowned, and then remembered the money still clenched in his fist. Without hesitation, he dropped the handful of coins onto the lady’s stall. A huge, hidden smile of triumph split his face.

The stall-owner looked down at the coins scattered on her stall. She chuckled once again. “You needn’t pay a quarter of this,” she said. “Not for that small thing . . .” She looked up to find the hooded figure gone. She searched the milling crowd, but there was no sign of him.

Leaving the square and hitting the road back to the White Horse, Madi clutched the Amber ball in his fist even tighter than he’d clutched the money. He ran as fast as his legs would carry him, eager to present Berry with her true colour. This would be a good day for a good place.

[ July 13, 2003: Message edited by: Idgian ]