Chapter 2 - Lignumholtz Market

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A buzz of bartering and chattering voices droned down the stone street, beckoning forward. Heeding their call, Sakalina walked swiftly toward the heart of the village. She passed buildings on either side of the cobblestone way. The bricks, stones, and wood of one structure seemed to be stitched together to the next, except for an occasional alleyway. Collectively, either side of the avenue seemed like a mass of huddled faces of giants. Looming about her like monstrous eyes and mouths, some doors and windows were open, and others were shut. Sakalina's eyes narrowed as she spied the clearing at the end of the avenue.

Sakalina dashed into the central courtyard, and slowed from her rapid pace to take in the aromas and sounds of the open space. The village market in Lignumholtz was not as busy as some of the others in Twigsylvania, but it could never be reasonably accused of lacking variety nor competition. Sakalina found a small patch of cobblestones amidst the convention of vendors, and knelt down, claiming the space as her own. She pulled a purple cloth from her bag and spread it on the stones. She opened the harvest bag at her other hip. Then she took each of the eight twigs she had harvested that morning, and gently placed upon the cloth. With each she made sure that the leaves she had carefully retained during harvest and transport were displayed in the most appealing manner. She smiled at her bounty, momentarily admiring the contrast of green twigs upon the purple cloth. Sakalina stood proudly beside the presentation of her produce.

"Best twigs in the village!" she yelled at the top of her lungs, and they were the ample and well practiced lungs of a climber who had been peddling her wares for several years.

Around her there were purveyors of pottery, vendors of vegetables, and fashioners of fine cloths. Other trinkets and devices filled in the holes between the major marketers and hawkers. Some of the sellers had simple venues such as Sakalina's, while others had brought along a table. A few had set up shop under a canopy, and some even had taken the time to erect a tent with poles and sides. A throng of people wandered through the mats and booths, chattering and buzzing in the morning breeze.

A man dressed in a blue shirt and tan trousers approached the little purple cloth. Sakalina shouted at him, "These twigs will write smoother and last longer than any others you'll find here." Her hand swept an arc low, skirting above the leaf-tops of the truncated twigs.

Blue-shirted man glanced down and his footsteps slowed.

"How can you make a claim like that?" he asked.

"Customer reviews, personal testing, and an independent analysis panel. Best in the village two years running, according to the Lignumholtz Messenger!" she exclaimed with bravata.

The prospect looked up at Sakalina's curious hat, as if judging a fashion contest, then his eyes dropped back down to the presentation upon the purple paisley patterned mat.

"These?" the man implored, referring to Sakalina's twigs.

"These indeed. These are the younger siblings of the award winners from the very same tree, and I care for that darling scribina tree myself. That tree makes me very proud to offer up its bounty."

"May I try one?" blue shirt asked.

"Certainly," Sakalina agreed. She opened the sack at her other hip and withdrew a board and coil-bound notebook. Her dexterous fingers flipped the book open to a clean page and extended it toward the man.

He took the book in his left hand.

"Which one?" Sakalina asked, noting the hand with which the man had taken the book.

He looked down. "Second from the left, the row toward you."

She took his description to mean his left, and with her right hand, she lifted the chosen twig by its barky stem and handed it to the man.

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