25
Hugh strode through the marketplace, chomping on an amari he’d stashed in his pocket. The healing fruit was strangely addictive.
He explored the vendors’ stalls, armed with a list of things for Dale and a pocketful of golden coins. He’d disguised himself as a member of the merchant class, with dark hair, ruddy skin, and working clothes.
Despite his camouflage, the peddlers seemed overly eager to sell to him.
“Good morning,” they greeted him, displaying their wares.
“Fancy a bouquet of flowers?”
“Bottle of wine?”
“Block of cheese?”
On and on it went.
Their offerings seemed different today. The fruits and vegetables were bulkier, like those around harvest time. Thick-walled squashes of strange colors, ripe melons, and bundles of grains were stacked high on the tables.
Other vend
