A Dishonorable Knight(65)
Elena nodded and folded the cloth as neatly as she could. For some reason, it was nowhere near as small a package as it had been when she pulled it out. Bryant waited patiently as Elena shoved the untidy roll of fabric on top of the neat stack. Half of the piece hung off the shelf, loose threads from the end dangling, but it seemed in no danger of falling to the floor so Elena turned to Bryant with an over-bright smile, took his arm, and steered him away from the heap of fabric.
"Now, what are we going to eat? I'm starving," she said.
Bryant's chest swelled as he covered her hand on his arm with his other hand. "Whatever my lady desires, so shall she eat," he said with a flourish as they left the shop.
The market was indeed just around the corner and it was as boisterous and crowded as any Elena had seen in her travels with Richard's court. As they pushed their way through the crowds, Elena was bombarded with scents and sites. Old men sold fresh-caught fish from blue wooden carts, the unmistakably fishy smell wrinkling Elena's nose. A young boy of eleven or twelve walked on his hands for the amusement of a group of young girls. Everywhere women of all ages, bargained with merchants for this bolt of cloth or those rounds of cheese. As Bryant led her past a row of open-front shops, Elena heard a young pregnant woman convince the baker to give her a dozen rolls for free since she was buying two large loaves of bread anyway. "'Tis just so hard for me to bake. This babe," she said pointing to her protruding belly, "is causing me no end of misery." Elena laughed as the man looked nervously at her roundness before agreeing to her plea.
As they made their way to the center of the large square where the food merchants were set up, a tall man brushed past her, his long hair streaked by the sun, his well-muscled shoulders rippling under his thin linen shirt, his forearms tanned below rolled up shirt sleeves. Elena turned to watch as the man paused to talk to one of the merchants. From the side, she watched him as he burst into laughter, his teeth startlingly white against the tanned skin of his weather-grooved face. Someone stepped in front of Elena, blocking her view and she pushed him aside. As if feeling her gaze on him, the tall man turned his head. When he saw Elena, he smiled broadly and cocked his right eyebrow in a movement that could only be described as suggestive. Elena's eyes widened and she spun around, nearly colliding with Bryant.
"There you are! I though you were following me, but when I turned around, you were gone. It wouldn't be wise to become separated here," he said, firmly clasping her hand in his own. As he pulled her towards another vendor, Elena craned her head around and discovered the well-built stranger staring at a point somewhere below her face. When he raised his eyes and grinned wickedly, Elena realized he must have been watching her hips as she walked away. She gasped and quickly turned around.
There were no men that rudely bold in Richard's court! No nobleman would dare look at a lady like that while she was cognizant of his attention. Elena paused in mid-thought. Of course, no men in Richard's court seemed so...virile, either. There was a confident power in that tanned face that did not stem from a title. Elena could remember no man who held himself so in Richard's court. No man except maybe...Gareth.
"How about some grilled lamb, my lady?" Bryant's voice pulled her from her thoughts, but she did not hear his question. When she looked at him uncomprehendingly, he explained. "They skewer pieces of lamb and roast it over a fire. It's quite tasty."
Suddenly Elena's hunger replaced all thoughts of virile soldiers and Gareth's appeal. "That sounds wonderful. Buy me two."
Bryant smiled and turned to the old man behind the table. "How much for each stick?"
"Two pence," the toothless mouth replied.
Bryant stared open mouthed at the old man. "Two pence? But the cart just over there is only charging a penny!"
The old man broke into a wheezing laugh. "That is because he serves mutton so dry and tough it takes you a week to digest it! Besides, I flavor mine with a very expensive spice my son has just brought me from the land of the barbarians. Try it," he said, handing a stick to Elena. "It's very spicy."
Elena bit into the tender meat, its juices running down her chin. The strange spice tickled her nose and burned the tip of her tongue but it was wonderfully pungent and she loved it.
"What is this spice called?" she asked, wiping her chin with her hand as delicately as she could.
"Tis some strange foreign name, but I believe my son said it sounded like cory. Or was it curry? My son has sailed the seas for twelve years and each time he returns, he brings me something unusual."