Alton, Lan, and Breana found their way to Market Square.  While still full of people and vendors, the ample open space seemed to Alton like the city opened onto a vast plain.  At least the tall buildings pushed to the outside removed the feeling of imposing doom they had in the thoroughfare.  As they entered, Breana stared in wonder at the tower directly ahead of them; her eyes traveled up the side of the monolith, its light blue sides almost fading into the sky’s blue expanse.  She craned her neck and leaned back on her father’s shoulders, trying to see the top of the structure nearly falling from her perch.

     At the base of the tower, a giant stage had been erected that stood five feet off the ground with large crates along the backside of the platform stacked three high, lining the entire thirty-foot length of the platform and abutting the tower wall. Banners of the houses of Ardholm hung from the crates, paying honor to the major donors of the festivities, with the king’s banner as a place of honor in the middle and respectfully higher than the rest.  An entertainment troupe was on stage, leading the crowd in a rousing drinking song with tumblers and magicians putting on a show in time with the music.

     “Papa, papa, closer.  Pllleeeaaasssse!” Breana pleaded as she bounced anxiously on her father’s shoulders.

     “Settle down, Wisp. You may be as light as a feather, but your bones hurt no less.”  

     With more room available to them, they made their way to the front of the stage, their progress aided by the arrival of some dignitary at the northern edge of the square.  Alton paid it no mind; his only thought was to find a suitable location for them to watch the show.  They pushed through and found themselves near the southwestern corner of the square, happy to discover a statue with a plinth at a perfect height for sitting, which they promptly did before others noted their find.  Settling in, Alton finally relaxed enough to look around and take in the sights. While not a fan of the city, he could appreciate the wonder of architecture and people.  As he looked around, he caught the eye of a man rocking gently on a porch, the sign over his head indicating the Sheriff’s Office, who nodded in his direction.  Alton smiled and nodded back, reflecting on his luck, having found a seat outside the Sheriff’s office and thinking there wouldn’t likely be many pickpockets here.

     Alton reached into his belt pouch and pulled a silver piece, “Lan, lad, head over to the carts there and get us all a pie.  I’ll have pork.”

     “Chicken,” Breana chimed in, standing on the statue’s plinth and not taking her eyes from the performers on the stage.

     “Yes, Pa,” Lan replied.

     Alton continued, “After we watch the next show, we’ll head back home; I want to be back before nightfall.”

     Lan’s face fell, “no fireworks, Pa?”

     “Not this time,” his father replied. “We didn’t plan on staying and have livestock to tend to.”

     “Yes, Pa,” and Lan turned to go.

     “But,” Alton continued before Lan could go, “maybe we can stop and look at that dagger that caught your eye on the way out.  You did good work this season and deserve a reward.”

     Lan’s face beamed with this news, and he quickly turned, zipping through the crowd to fetch food.  Alton smiled, watching him go.

     The music finished, and the crowd erupted in applause.  Each performer began bowing deeply to the crowd and waving as one stepped forward shouting, “Thank you, good people of Ardholm.  We are Fantastica, and performing here for you today has been our greatest honor.  We are leaving for a short break but will be back with more song, dancing, and magic, but for now, I’ll leave you in good hands with a message from our Mayor.  Thank you, thank you all.”

     With a final bow and a wave to the crowd, the performers ran from the stage.  The people jamming the front of the stage for the best view began to disperse, moving in a herd to the many different food and beverage carts.