If the streets on the way into the center were choked with vendors, then the center square of Roucotte had long since suffocated. Vendors and merchants jostled for every last piece of uncovered street to set up shop and call towards those that began to gather in the middle. The noise threatened to overwhelm Valentin’s thoughts.
“Where should we go first?” Valentin called to Jeanne over the natural clamor that surrounded them.
His eyes spun with the innumerable choices that he could make. Most of them, coincidentally happened to be food. His rumbling stomach requested that he sampled all of them several times over. Where should he start? What route would get him the most food without spoiling his appetite for the feast later?
“I think we should check out some of the stalls. Especially the ones selling sweets. I wonder if the Roucotte Temple is selling their honey drinks again this cycle,” Jeanne replied eagerly. His sister looked around for any signage of the druid beekeeper’s stall.
On the northeastern corner of the square sat the Red Rest Inn, a three story red building that dwarfed the structures surrounding it. The Inn was the most common resting point for weary travelers passing through Roucotte and one of the Duvin’s most ardent customers. Valentin spotted his uncle’s wagon being unburdened of barrels of wine towards the back of the building but could not spot neither Gilles nor the proprietor through the chaos.
While some denizens of Roucotte considered themselves to be cut from a more refined cloth than the drunken revelers that surrounded the town, Valentin noticed many handsomely dressed men and women taking an unceremonious tumble into the muck of the street. Their jackets and breeches and dresses collect mud before their owners would look at each other and laugh. Rosy cheeks of intoxication covered the faces of all that stood at the threshold to the inn and all seemed to be engrossed in the joys of the day. To Valentin, they looked almost identical to the drunken commoners that celebrated outside the walls.
All save for one.
A woman with hair of gold and garbed in traveler’s cloth with a small case was arguing with one of the employees of the Inn. A look of puzzlement passed Valentin’s face. The person was undoubtedly familiar but why would they be here?
“Euna?” Valentin called out in confusion.
The troubadour turned her head towards the direction of the call and a smile crossed her lips. The woman strolled happily towards the pair of siblings.
“Oh great,” remarked Jeanne, seemingly unhappy that their sibling together time was being interrupted by this problematic woman.
“If it isn’t the Duvin pair. What a surprise to run into you so soon,” Euna cooed, her attitude completely opposite of what it had been only a scant few moments ago.
“I think you are the bigger surprise, Euna,” countered Valentin, oblivious to the woman’s glib tone. “Why aren’t you with the Steward?”
Euna’s face went dark and sour words formed on her lips.
“The Steward said he didn’t pay for a return trip. Accused me of insolence for stepping foot on his carriage uninvited,” Euna spat in response. The woman kicked at the ground in frustration, dislodging a few pebbles that scattered down the street. “Cheap bastard.”
“How terrible,” Valentin replied sympathetically. His estimation of the Steward dropped further at Euna’s story.
Euna shrugged in response. Now that she had the opportunity to vent, her mood seemed to recover back to the more playful and aloof temperament that Valentin had known the day prior.
“So here is where he dumped me, made sure we were out of sight of your father so he could save face. I figured that I could make some travel money before leaving but the owner of the Inn is a prick,” Euna informed made a rude gesture towards the Inn and, presumably, all inside.
“Unsurprising,” Jeanne commented, her voice devoid of compassion. “The musicians within the walls have paid for performance rights. Even if you had made it in, there would have been a fight.”
“I have my way around fellows of the craft that aren’t willing to share,” Euna replied. A smile of knowing mischief replaced the anger that recently resided on Euna’s face.
“Spare me the details,” dismissed Jeanne. “It’s unfortunate that you find yourself stranded here but if you wish to make money you will have to play for those outside the walls. Though I would advise against it.”
Jeanne pulled on her brother’s arm and led him in the direction of some of the stalls. “Now if you could excuse us, we will be continuing with our business.”
The siblings approached a stall of a middle aged couple selling bread. Jeanne rummaged through a little pouch and handed the vendors a small copper coin. With a quick inspection of the coin, the woman gave a nod to her husband who handed a small, steaming loaf to Jeanne. His sister ripped the loaf in half and handed one to Valentin.
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“We can’t eat too much but this will keep you from becoming too hungry.”
The boy took a grateful bite of his bread and noticed that he was still in a party of three. Euna also delivered a coin to the vendor and received a loaf of her own.
“Good call, Jeanne,” the troubadour said before taking a large bite of bread. “It’s hard to do much on an empty stomach.” She pointed the loaf towards the two of them. “I don’t know the area too well so I think I’m going to stick around with you two if you don’t mind.”
“I don’t mind,” Valentin consented, taking another bite of his bread. He could feel his sister pout from behind him but he found Euna interesting and wasn’t keen on chasing her away so hastily.
The three navigated their way through the crowds of Trader’s Way. Shouts of haggling and the sounds coins changing hands swallowed the street in noise. Valentin tried to stop before a stall of a blacksmith. Polished swords gleamed beautifully, even in the overcast weather. Instead, Jeanne gifted him a small skewer of beef and led him onwards. He chewed on happily, however, the boy felt that he was being appeased with food as the two women inspected some of the crafts that were presented at the stalls.
“Well aren’t you a beautiful pair,” a vendor attempted to woo Jeanne and Euna. “Would you be interested in a charm? Or perhaps a necklace like this? Anything here would complement you greatly” The man rubbed his hands together before holding up necklaces and bracelets towards the two women.
“Oh that’s very kind of you,” Euna responded in an exaggerated fashion with a slight blush. “The two of us are accompanying our dear brother here. It’s his Bloodstone Ceremony.”
Jeanne gave Euna a derisive look, clearly disapproving of the troubadour’s attempted association. She looked towards her brother for support only to see Valentin’s bored face. It was of no difference to him what Euna claimed to be. All he wanted to do was see the swords again. Which one made him look the most dashing? He’d have to ask Gilles for his opinion if he caused the Bloodstone to react.
“Is that so?” the vendor replied, looking at the two clearly unrelated women before inspecting the boy. He grabbed a trinket off his stand and tossed it at Valentin. “Here you go, boy.”
“Thank you, sir.” Valentin said with a faux grateful smile.
He took a brief look at the charm. It was a cheaply made wooden rectangle with several pheasant feathers sticking from the top. A rune demarking good luck was carved into the wooden surface. Unsatisfied, he stored the charm inside of his pouch before was pulled by the hand by Euna. Jeanne angrily chased behind before grabbing for the boy’s other hand.
Valentin began to notice a pattern. The three would approach a stall, the vendors would flirt with the two women and ignore the boy, and then hand him an item that he had little use for. So far he had obtained two necklaces, four charms, a wooden spoon, a small vial of floral perfume, and a comb. In fact, both Euna and Jeanne both had received more free items from the vendors than Valentin had. Valentin couldn’t quite put it to words but he felt as though he was the accessory to someone else’s outing as opposed to celebrating the most important day of his young life.
Now that around an hour pass and it had reached closer to zenith, the citizens that tried to work through the morning joined the streets and amount of people had increased considerably. Valentin was led by the hand through the dense packing of humans. In an attempt to gain some relief, the three stepped into a side street.
Many others shared their idea and disappeared into these narrower streets to gain some fresh air. These side roads traveled in labyrinthine patterns like the branches of a tree. Little wooden carvings of eagles hung from the doors of the homes to show their devotion to Killik. They moved further up the roads to where a small crowd gathered around a man juggling different sized fruits and vegetables atop an upturned log.
Valentin watch the villagers toss up apples and onions and cabbages up at the juggler. Small sparks typical of one with favor lit from their fingers, accelerating the produce to speeds that turned them into blurs. They reached the count of eight before the performer lapsed in focus and the produce tumbled to the ground, much to the delight of those watching.
Undeterred, the juggler picked up two of the fallen produce and started again. Valentin tilted his head in wonder at how someone with talent would use it in such a fashion.
“I should join your clan,” remarked Euna, inspecting her haul of gifts. “I didn’t even get this many gifts on my own Killicia. Now when I had suitors it was a different story.”
“You’re unmarried, Euna?” Valentin asked.
“Is that such a shock?” Jeanne asked rhetorically.
“None of them ever impressed me. As the fifth daughter of a tailor, you really get the bottom of the barrel in terms of romantic interest,” Euna replied, undeterred by Jeanne’s provocation. She took a sniff of the perfume vial and gave a pleased face. “Besides, romantic ties aren’t compatible with this sort of life. They couldn’t keep up.”
“Couldn’t you marry another troubadour? Then you could travel together,” Valentin replied confidently and nodded proudly with his sound reasoning.
Euna chuckled. “No, no. Those men are far too uncouth. They never are satisfied with one partner and it is a joke in the profession that male musicians have children in every city in Strettia. To be fair the women aren’t much better, myself included,” the woman faced Valentin but was giving a side eye to Jeanne. “If you were older I’d have made a pass at you.”
Valentin watched the woman smile at Jeanne’s horrified expression. He tilted his head in confusion over Euna’s word choice. He was not sure what exactly Euna meant, but he knew that whatever it was, it had its desired effect. His sister drained of color before quickly recovering her normal fire. She pushed past Euna, placing herself between her brother and the troublesome troubadour.
“Use this as a lesson to beware these kinds of women, Valentin.” Jeanne inserted herself into the conversation as well as physically between her brother and the troubadour. “Euna is dangerous.”
“Dangerous?”
“That’s right. There are women that can manipulate the hearts of men and ruin their lives. Don’t get with a woman like that or you’ll break our mother's heart,” Jeanne lectured, giving a petulant look towards Euna.
“That’s not true,” interjected Euna. “I can manipulate women’s hearts too.” She put a hand on Jeanne’s shoulder that was abruptly brushed off. Euna lowered herself in front of Valentin so that they were eye to eye. “Now what are we going to do, Young Duvin?” She asked sweetly.
“I want to watch a fight!” The boy pointed in the direction of the enclosure outside the walls. “They started, right?”