“Kirsten, you think you’re so funny, don’t you! Too bad you must be eighteen to participate,” Thomas said mocking her.
“In all seriousness,” Anders said, “I know you could probably hold your own with the best of them, but you must not make the same mistake I did. You can cheer me on this time, and in two years we’ll be able to compete alongside one another.”
“Hey Thomas,” Kirsten said, trying to shift the focus off herself, “It must drive you crazy not being able to compete next year when you turn eighteen. Too bad it’s a biannual event, because all of the greatest contestants in history have done their best in their eighteenth year.”
Thomas balled his fists together tightly in an attempt to hold back his anger. He knew what his sister was trying to do to him. “It’ll be worth the wait,” he said through a clenched jaw. “Then I can crush you at your first games.”
“There must be a mutual level of respect for one another among all athletes,” Theodor said, attempting to end the argument. “That includes the both of you.”
Kirsten stuck her tongue out at her older brother behind his back while her father spoke.
“Real mature,” Anders said in a low voice, giving her a loving shove with his forearm.
As they rode across town toward the festival’s market, Anders enjoyed observing the many cultures represented at the event. People of all nationalities had come to Grandwood to participate in the trade and commerce. The market was beginning to fill with people when they found an open lot for their stand. Anders and Thomas used the wagon as their booth, displaying their fresh salmon in several wicker baskets. Kirsten and Theodor unhooked the horse and led her over to a nearby hitching post.
It wasn’t long before the roar of the market was in full effect. The four of them had little trouble selling their fresh fish. They sold out within an hour.
Feeling the plump pouch of coins they’d just acquired, Theodor said, “Well done. This is more money than this family has had in months. I say we split up into groups and get supplies for the farm before we lose focus and become lost to all the festival has to offer.” The three of them nodded their heads in agreement. “Anders, you and Thomas get supplies for the boat, while Kirsten and I get the rest. Sound like a plan?”
They set out into the vast market to gather what they needed. After Thomas and Anders had most of their supplies loaded into the wagon, Anders said to his cousin, “I’d better go find the registration tent for tomorrow’s competition. I’ll track you down afterward.”
“Okay, sounds good to me,” Thomas replied. “I’ll let father and Kirsten know. I’ll be trying exotic food and checking out all the new things people are selling this year.”
“Have fun and don’t get food poisoning,” Anders said slapping Thomas on the back. He winced in pain because of the sunburn he’d suffered after spending the day fishing under the spring sun before the storm hit. He turned to tell Anders off, but his cousin had already disappeared into the crowd.
Anders pushed his way through the mass of people toward the registration tent. When he reached the beach and located the tent, he paused just outside the door. His nervousness came rushing back and his heart pounded fast. He took several deep breaths to calm himself down.
Exhaling, he reached out to open the tent door. Just as his hand wrapped around the handle, he was knocked violently off his feet. For a moment, he was lost. The world around him was a blur. He’d lost his bearings and found himself entangled with whoever had come barreling through the doorway in such a hurry. As he tumbled free from the stranger, he regained his composure. Rising to his feet, still confused about exactly what had just happened, Anders saw the man scramble to his feet and frantically try to escape. Two people from the registration tent rushed out after him.
“Thief! Stop that man! Stop that thief!” they yelled, hands raised pointing at the man who was now gaining speed along the crowded beach.
Anders quickly made sense of what was happening. Cursing under his breath, he took off at a dead sprint after the thief. As he raced through the crowd, he very quickly found himself gaining on the man. Running past tents and wagons, he saw a vendor with a row of handmade tool handles. The fleeing thief turned sharply to the left and bowled through a group of people, knocking them out of his way. Anders quickly grabbed a shovel handle as he passed the vendor. He rounded the corner and saw he had a clear shot at the man. He hurled the hard piece of wood with a fierce side-handed throw. It spun twice through the air with great speed, colliding into the back of the man’s head with a loud, CRACK! Instantly the man toppled to the ground like a sack of potatoes, dropping the large bags in his hands, spilling the contents. The people around him gasped when they saw the man fall, surprised to see such a violent end to the chase.
Anders rushed to the unconscious man. Beside him, the two bags of gold coins he’d stolen lay scattered on the ground. One of the people working at the registration tent had been just a few moments behind Anders throughout the chase. She quickly came to his side.
“Thank you so much!” Anders heard the girl say with a hint of an accent.
Anders lifted his head to see her walking swiftly toward him. Her brown eyes met his as her long amber hair ran down behind her shoulders. Her darker skin shone brilliantly in the light of the spring sun, captivating Anders. She was beautiful.
He opened his mouth, but no words came out. Anders managed something of a smile and rubbed the back of his sunburned neck. After what felt like much too long a silence, he finally squeaked out, “Yeah, don’t mention it.”
She chuckled at his inability to smoothly start a conversation. “That man took all of the proceeds for the games tomorrow. He snatched them from me when my back was turned. If he’d gotten away with it, I would be out of a job for sure,” she said to Anders. “I bet you weren’t expecting him to come barging through the door, were you?”
Anders, still smiling at her like an idiot, joked, “I sure wasn’t. I’m just surprised he held on to those heavy bags when he ran me over.” She smiled at him showing Anders the full beauty of her face and he felt himself instantly relax. “Well, I’m happy you won’t be getting fired. Let me help you pick up this mess and take the bags back to the tent.”
“That would be great! My name is Maija,” she said, extending her hand toward him.
“Anders,” he replied taking her hand and shaking it.
She seemed to be examining his face as they shook hands and said, “I like the color of your eyes.”
Anders blushed, the redness rising up his neck and across his sunburned face. “Thanks. The brown in your eyes matches the color of your hair beautifully,” Anders heard the words come out before he realized it might be rude to give a girl he didn’t know such a tender compliment.
She smiled after seeing his facial expression change to humiliation, “Yours are lovely too. They’re like the color of a storm rolling across the sea. What do they call it?”
“My uncle calls it gray-haze,” he said bashfully.
“I haven’t met anyone with gray eyes before,” she said.
“I find that hard to believe,” Anders said.
“Where I come from there aren’t many people who have bright eyes,” she said, gazing longingly into Anders’ eyes.
“Where is that?” he asked.
“A small island off the coast of Southland,” she said with a slightly accented Landish tone that differed faintly from other Westland and Southland speech. “They’re called the Kewians,” she smiled.
“It sounds like a lovely place,” Anders said holding her gaze before awkwardly glancing down at his feet.
Together they gathered the scattered coins. Several of the town’s watchmen had seen the chase and were quick to put the thief in chains. Anders and Maija carried the money back to the registration tent while the watchmen hauled the thief away.
“So, it would be safe to assume you were about to come in and register for the games when that man ran into you?” Maija asked Anders.
“Yeah, I didn’t see that one coming,” he replied. “He was moving pretty fast, too. He should’ve signed up for the event instead of trying to steal the money. Probably would’ve done pretty well,” he joked.
“It looks like you got the best of him in the end, though,” Maija said. “Good thing you got lucky with that shovel handle.”
“Hang on,” Anders said. “That wasn’t just luck. I happen to be an excellent shovel handle thrower,” he smiled at her.
