Walking down a dirt track Ailish looked about her a little disappointed, nothing seemed much different from the courtyard she was used to, dirt, grass and trees. She was beginning to think escaping wasn’t the best idea she’d ever had, and that the trouble she would be in when she returned would all be for nothing.
Just as she was thinking about turning back and forgetting about the whole enterprise, sounds began to drift to her from up ahead. Voices? She wasn’t sure; she continued on, encouraged by the wooden buildings coming into to view. Wooden? She had imagined that all the buildings would be like her home, made of stone blocks.
Ailish felt excitement bubbling up inside her again as she drew closer and closer to the houses. She could hear loud conversations, the pounding of feet against the ground, animals neighing and squealing. Excited, she couldn’t help herself and she ran forward into a melee of people and carts and animals, gazing around in the effort to see anything and everything. To another the sight of the village and its people might seem ordinary, but to Ailish it was all utterly amazing.
The noise was almost too much but Ailish revelled in it; this was so much more compared to the stifling quiet of her cell-like room. Here she could feel the sunlight warming her skin, could taste the summer air, hear and feel all the things around her. Lifting her arms towards the sky, Ailish twirled on the spot so happy in this moment.
The spinning somewhat unbalanced her though and she faltered slightly, bumping into a bulky man with a small wooden cart laden with goods.
“Careful now lass,” he steadied her smiling, his ruddy cheeks glowing.
Balance regained, Ailish smiled sheepishly at the man. “Sorry.”
The man dipped his threadbare hat, and then looked Ailish up and down. “Whatsa pretty thing like you doin’ in the market alone?”
Ailish blushed slightly; she was not used to compliments. “Oh, just exploring!”
He tilted his head slightly considering her, then straightened, picking a red apple from his cart. “Well, keep yerself safe now lass.”
The man handed Ailish the apple, smiled, and picked the cart up once more to continue his trek along the streets looking for business.
Ailish was so shocked by the gesture, that the man was quite a distance from her before she remembered her manners. “Thank you!” she called after him, but he was too far away to hear her gratitude.
Looking down at her hand that now clutched the apple, Ailish brought it up to her face, closed her eyes, and breathed in the apple smell. It reminded her of the times she had spent in the orchards at her home when she was younger. Before it happened; before she was shut away for her own protection. She smiled to herself and decided to save the apple for later, placing it carefully in her shoulder bag.
Ailish looked up and down at the small stalls lining, what appeared to be, the main thoroughfare in the small village. There were so many of them, selling all sorts of everyday objects and some that she had never seen before.
Excitement bubbled within her again as she approached the first stall. It was home to pile upon pile of all kinds of fabric. Some she was familiar with: the richly coloured ones of red, green and blue with intricate embroidery flowing along the edges. Others were entirely new.
Coloured threads twisted and weaved with each other to create a rainbow of bright patterns. She ran her fingers along the lines of thread as she continued on down the stall. Until they traced over a fabric that was drab and coarse, not like the fabric she was used to at all; it prickled her hand but she decided she liked it. There was nothing safe and conformist about this fabric; it dared to be different, to stand out.
“A girl like you doesn’t want something like wool. You need a colour to show off those eyes of yours.”
Ailish jumped slightly but soon composed herself. She looked up to see a gaunt woman beaming down at her, straggly hair in her eyes.
“Now let me see,” the woman moved off and picked up a richly embroidered turquoise roll of fabric. “Here we are, matches those eyes of yours perfectly.”
The stallholder held the fabric out to her. Ailish shook her head. “I’m not buying today, sorry.”
The woman scowled, swept the hair out her eyes, huffed and thumped the fabric down once more, obviously disgruntled at the waste of her time.
Ailish tried to keep away from the front of the stalls after that, not wanting to anger further stallholders. She contented herself with looking from the side at the wonderful things laid out, meat, pottery, jewellery, leather, fish and some things she wasn’t even sure of. All of it fascinated her.
Even the people bewitched her and she tried to study them without actually looking directly. The women appeared to wear this wool fabric as a long tunic over the top of simple gowns; they also wore white fabric draped over their heads. Ailish looked down at her clothes and noticed a significant difference. She wore a long green gown, with embroidery right around her waist and along her sleeves.
The cloak she wore covered most of these rich features but even that stood out, what with the fabric being plush velvet. Her hair, a deep chestnut brown, was not covered like theirs but pulled into a tight elaborate bun on the back of her head and tied with a colourful ribbon.
Ailish, feeling a little out of place, noticed that people were staring as she progressed along the street. Keeping her head down she tried to make herself small and inconspicuous so as not to attract any more attention. Was it possible that people would recognise her? She didn’t think so, as she had been kept in the confines of a house for the majority of her life. Her curiosity about everything eventually overcame her caution though and once again she wandered between the stalls soaking up the new and fresh experiences like a sponge.
Something wet pressed up against her hand and Ailish squeaked and leapt away from the slimy sensation. She spun round, not quite sure what she was expecting but it was not what she saw.
A large mucky coloured animal was gazing at her intently; it had no fur, just hairs along it’s back. Its feet were hoofed, it’s ears big and the slimy thing that had touched her hand appeared to be a huge wet nose.
Ailish furrowed her brow, contemplating the animal in front of her. She was sure she knew what it was called, but the name quite escaped her. She took a step forward and the animal emitted a loud, long snort. It made Ailish jump but she also giggled, finding the animal enchanting. She was not allowed near the animals kept at home in case she caught ‘something nasty’ or they tried to her hurt her, thus while she liked the idea of animals her practical knowledge was incredibly weak.
Ailish took another step forward and stretched out her hand to touch the animal’s head. It snorted quite a few times but this time Ailish didn’t jump. Instead she laid her hand on the spiky hair atop its head and began to scratch between the ears. It emitted low happy sounds in response to her scratching and Ailish smiled.
“’Ere! Get away from my pig!”
Ailish dropped her hand immediately. “Oh sorry, I was just saying hello.”
A rotund woman bustled up to her and placed a rope around the pig’s head. “Well say ‘ello to your own pigs!” and with that she hurried off in the opposite direction, pulling the pig along with her.
“I can’t, I’m not allowed,” Ailish muttered to herself.
*******
If it was possible, the sound of the village was escalating the further down the street she ventured and the throng of people was increasing. Ailish skirted round the crowds, trying not to bump into anyone again.
As she worked her way through the mass of people, a hand grabbed her upper arm and for a moment her heart lurched. She thought she had been discovered and that her excursion was all over, but then a cry nearly deafened her. “Get ya pears!”
The strong grasp pulled her close to one of the wooden stands: a fruit one. The man had a rather pungent aroma and it stung Ailish’s nose. She cringed.
“’Ello madam, wouldn’t ya care for some lovely pears?”
“Erm, not today thank you. I have to go now,” Ailish tried to pull her arm away and walk off but he only tightened his grip and pulled her closer.
“Not withou’ some lovely pears though madam! Surely!”
“I can’t…sorry, I need to…” Ailish continued to struggle but the more she did the tighter his grip got. The stallholder sunk his dirt filled fingernails into her skin. His face was uncomfortably close to hers and he seemed adamant that he wouldn’t let her leave until he made a sale.
“Got me bairns at ‘ome, Madam. I have to feed ‘em,” he began to pick up pears and force them on Ailish.
“Rolfe, not again,” this was a new voice and it made the stallholder who was obviously Rolfe stop, letting the pears drop to the floor.
Ailish, slightly panicked now, craned her neck round to see a tall imposing man standing at the side of the fruit stall. He was dressed in a smart tunic that had a look of a uniform about it. Ailish immediately lowered her head again so he couldn’t see her fully. The sense of officialdom about the man worried her; it reminded her of the guards back at home.
“The uh…” Rolfe faltered. “Young Madam only wan’ed some pears.”
“Then why does it appear that she would rather be anywhere else?” The uniformed man stepped towards Rolfe.
“I uh…’Ere you can’t tell me how to sell me wares!”
“Let go of the girl, Rolfe.”
Rolfe sighed and relinquished his grip on Ailish. She snapped her arm back from him and massaged where his nails had dug in. Ailish backed away from the pair hastily, not wanting to be in the vicinity of the stallholder any longer. She did catch a few last words from the uniformed man though.
“That’s three fines in a week, Rolfe. You may want to rethink your selling method…”
Ailish spun away from the uniformed man and Rolfe. She hurried over to a small alley between two of the stalls. Leaning back against the wall of a small wooden house, Ailish rested her head on the hard surface. She gently ran her hand over her arm, trying to soothe the pain a little. She could feel the nail marks underneath her fingertips. What a horrible man. Ailish hoped that she would never meet a stallholder like that again.
She began to relax against the wall and was almost ready to venture back out into the market, when she felt a tugging on her small shoulder bag. Ailish was about to turn and see the source of the pulling, but before she could, someone violently pushed her. She cried out and landed awkwardly on the dirt floor, grazing her knees and her palms on the uneven track.
To be continued...
