[The X Phial]

Deol wandered around the market on what his boss called a "scouting mission." He was to return in a few hours with an accounting of at least 20 potential customers to the stall. Aldhelm was always giving him chores like this. He called them grooming exerises, a chance to expand Deol's view of the business from simply grinding grain and carrying bags of flour.

"After all," the miller would often say, "there's more to milling than milling."

Deol liked his master and knew that he was relatively lucky when it came to apprenticeships. His father, a tanner, had been killed in a raid when he was young and none of the other tanners were keen to take on the son of their former competition as an apprentice. Luckily, Aldhelm had only a daughter and needed an apprentice to ensure the continuance of the mill. If all went according to plan Deol would marry Lathyn, the daughter and through her inherit at least partial ownership of the mill. Even if the new child was a son, his future was secure.

The problem with all of this, of course, was that Deol was 16 and Lathyn 9, hardly the stuff of the romantic tales he heard weekly at the inn and that his mother used to tell him long ago. Deol liked his future wife well enough, for a child, but she had the infuriating habit of following him around the property when he was supposed to be working. And she was so quiet, it unnerved him. Usually on market days she would ride into town to help with the shopping, but her mother was very close to the end of her confinement now and needed all the help she could get around the house. Deol revelled in his freedom. He had two hours in which to wander the market with no Aldhelm and no Lathyn on his tail.

From somewhere behind him, Deol heard a familiar laugh. He turned to see Iswyn watching an impomptu play on the market square. He knew, Iswyn, of course, from his deliveries. She was usually elbow deep in dishwater, but even then he found her pretty. Now, with her hair neat and her nice clothes on, she seemed to him the fairest girl he had ever seen. Shoving aside the niggling voice of reason that said he was already intended, he went and bought a small bouquet from one of the women walking the market.

"Fair lady," he said as he approached her, in only a half mocking tone, "would you do me the honor of walking with me through the market." He presented the bouquet and winked, trying hard not to blush.