Treachery of Kings

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I would like to get a sugar-pear, love,” said Letitia Louise, nearly shouting in his ear, and fatpie-and-nettle, if there's one to be had, with so many folk about. Oh, and corn on a stick where the pepper runs down.”

“That you shall have,” Finn said, catching a word now and then, “all three and more if we can fight our way out.”

It was nearly impossible to hear oneself speak, much less another soul as well. Sound, in a meadow, will dispel itself nicely on the wind. The clamor and the roar, trapped within the royal courtyard, merely restored itself time and time again.

Not that many seemed to care, Finn thought to himself, for the heat and the racket and the foul emanations of their neighbors scarcely dimmed the joy of the folk of County Ploone.

Besides the booths and stalls and the varicolored tents, each crowded one against the next, sites that offered tortes, cakes and sour thistle pie, colored beads and spells, mead and silvered glass, there would also be more family fun, late in the afternoon. For every creature there, human, Newlie and even the dead, knew SpringFair Sunday was also the Chopping of May.

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