The Bounty Hunter

Chapter Ten

Chapter Ten

The road became busier as they neared noon the next day, the tall and dense forest giving way to wide open land which was riddled with farms, large swathes of green and yellow alternating occasionally with the bare earth and low farmhouses from which coils of smoke snaked up into the sky above. The landscape was cut in half by a river over which a stone bridge arched gracefully, allowing them over the burbling silver water and into the town of Tilm.

The bright sunlight glinted off the ochre roofs and the smiling windows which were set into the honey coloured stone walls while the chatter of the people as they hurried from place to place or stood around laughing and smiling surrounded Safita and Finred like a song; everywhere young children ran amok, playing ball games, eating apples or causing mischief. A couple of people inclined their heads slightly in greeting as they walked past but mostly they just ignored the two travellers as they walked along the cobbled street.

“What exactly are we doing here?” Finred asked as they ambled through the town.

“I thought we’d do a bit of sightseeing,” Safita remarked with a smile. “Is it not agreeable to you?”

“It’s a beautiful town to be sure,” Finred replied as Safita wandered up to a young woman who was washing her clothes by the side of the side.

“Good afternoon,” she said as the lady smiled in return. “You wouldn’t happen to know anything about this man would you?” she asked, showing her the prince’s portrait.

“Him? Is ‘e the one who threw his money around and what some people said looked like the prince?” the girl repeated in surprise as she scrubbed at a blue dress. “Nay that I wouldn’t for I was out when he was said by some to have come through here; I don’t believe it personally, I don’t think anyone with half a brain here does,” she said with a pretty laugh, “but one of the main people what was spreading the tale was old Master Jones.”

“Brilliant. Where would I find Master Jones?” Safita asked.

“His shop is two streets down and to the right,” she said with a smile as they turned to leave.

“Thank you,” Safita said as they continued on down the street and followed the girl’s directions.

“Good. Ah, here we are,” she smiled, directing him to an old building above which hung the sign of a pair of open scissors.

“The tailor’s? I know that women like to have new clothes but I thought you were working,” he teased.

“We are working,” she said as she ducked through the black wooden door as a tiny bell tinkled merrily. Loitering in the doorway for a moment Finred waited for his eyes to adjust to the dim light before he made his way into the crowded room. It was already merely average size but against every wall were leaned different rolls of fabrics that made it seem even smaller, each one another colour or material; some even had other rolls behind them or placed precariously on top of them, so that they made pillars of cloth which seemed to support the low ceiling. There was every colour imaginable there from the deepest black to the palest pink and through every shade in between; reds, crimsons, scarlets, pinks, azures, turquoises, blues, greens, purples, violets, ochres, browns, greys, yellows and each one in various patterns; there was nothing which was not represented in this fantastic collection and it was incongruous in this small Outland town, apart from the size of the room it seemed as if they were at one of the finest dressmakers available in the Palace. Crammed into one corner of this room were a couple of spindly wooden chairs and a tiny wooden desk, behind which sat a man with round glasses that perched on the end of his nose and gave him the appearance of a very small, very meek mouse.