Lamedon Square Market

[Feanor of the Peredhil]

"Well that's quite exciting. And will you be as good a brother as you are a helper to me?"

Lendir nodded seriously.

"I think, then, that this is deserving of a special treat to celebrate." Having finished putting her breads in order, she leaned heavily against the table, making quite a show of thinking deeply. "I could have you... no, that would not work. Oh! I could always allow you to... ah, but that would never do."

She bit back a smile as Lendir fidgeted, too well trained to interrupt, but obviously dying of anticipation.

"Ah," she said, "I've thought of just the thing. It is a very important job. Far more important than doorwarden."

The boy's eyes grew huge.

"There are twenty pans," she said, "of hot cross buns, just come out of the ovens. They've cooled enough now for their frosting, which is already inside a pastry bag."

She thought his jaw might well detach and fall off, it hung so low.

"People will arrive any time now, Lendir, and my buns need to be crossed just right with their frosting. I cannot do it, because I have to watch my wares. Can I trust you, boy, to cross every bun just right, and when you finish, bring them out here?"

[Envinyatar]

Bertie growled as he felt a tug at the back of his coat and clumped about, ready to thump whoever had snuck up on him with his crutch. ‘What, boy?!’ he said low, holding his finger to his lips. ‘Erchan, ain’t it?’ He twisted to peek out from behind the tree. ‘Quiet now, don’t want the cap’n get wind of our business, do we?’ He focused his one good eye on the roll the boy now offered.

‘Bless that good missus as sent it!’ he went on, reaching out for it. Just as quickly, the boy put out his other hand cupped open and barring the way to the roll.

‘Old Bertie’s got it. Don’t you worry!’ He fished a copper jot from the recesses of his pocket and laid it in the boy’s hand. Transaction done, the roll slid into the same pocket to be savored with his soon to be gotten morning drink.

[piosenniel]

‘I’ve got them, Posy. Last ones.’ Derry shifted the small violet filled basket from under his arm and set it down next to the girl. ‘Granny Henwyn let me have them for setting up her stall and sorting out the flowers and herbs.’

Posy buried her nose in the basket taking in the light, sweet scent of the violets. ‘Perfect!’ she said smiling up at Derry. ‘And I’ve a little bit of baby’s-breath left from yesterday to fit in among the posies.’ She gathered a few violets and a little stalk of babies-breath together and wrapped a bit of green thread about their stems to hold them together. ‘Makes ‘em a bit prettier, don’t you think?’

Derry had no opinion on the ‘prettiness’ of the little nosegay, but he knew if Posy thought it so, then there would be those wanting such a thing and that meant coins coming in to buy food. There were eleven of them now, what with the new boy just off one of the ships, and that meant more bread would be needed as well as cheese. There was still a half crate of wizened apples he and one of the other boys had ‘found’ near the backdoor of a tavern. And milk would be nice, at least for the littler ones.

‘I’ll take the twins with me today,’ Posy went on. ‘The ladies think they’re quite adorable and will buy a posy from them. And the gentlemen will buy when I tell them how our mother is sick-a-bed, our father dead and I’ve got to sell enough to get her medicine.’ She put on her sad and worried face and looked hopefully in Derry’s direction, showing him her sad-tale face.

In only a short time, the posies were done and arranged in a flat basket on a bed of moistened moss. ‘Come, Garan and Goran. Let’s catch the early crowd at the market if we can.’ She tousled the yellow curls of each of the boys into place, and wiped a smudge of dirt from Garan’s cheek with a lick of her finger. The elfin seven year olds grinned and made for the door, running circles all about her as they made their way toward the market.