Talan walked around, enjoying the smell of food from many stalls. Since he and Iswyn had split up, he hadn't really concentrated on getting the shopping done. Every time he had set his mind on getting through the list, his concentration was stealed by the many artists performing.
He managed to get through the list, though, even the infamous pillowslips. He had a bit of trouble carrying all the things, including the pitchforks, and had he not been of such a size, a few venders with sore behinds might have picked a fight. The sight of his big fists removed any lust for fight, though.
Talan continued his walk, not sure of what to do. He had all the things, but it was still to early to meet Iswyn. He then saw a small boy, who bumped into him. The boy apologised, and tried to run off into the crowd, had not a pitchfork caught his trousers.
"Give me back me money, lad, or I'll put this here pitchfork a bit higher, and not to your liking," he threatened. Chagrined, the boy gave him his purse, and then quickly removed himself, afraid of any further vengeance.
Talan thought if he should pursue the matter. The money was not his, and though it was just a few coins, it would not have been nice to tell Bethberry the truth. But he knew how it was like to be a pickpocket in that age, and since there had been no harm, no reason to waste more time on that. He made his way to Hamish, and waited for Iswyn to appear.
__________________
Two beer or not two beer, that is the question; by Shakesbeer
|