Chapter Eleven

Sweet Plans

“I think it’s started,” Selico said, kicking his legs. 

“It has.” Eodhan looked over the edge of the building they were perched on. The slanted roofs meant that lying down wasn’t an option, but Roja was more than happy to go across them anyway. That they weren’t made for walking just meant that they were less likely to be disturbed or, more importantly, chased. “That means the festival streets are like to be a bit calmer.”

“Perfect time for roaming,” Roja said. He was lying down on the roof, pushing himself up against a chimney stack with his legs. “We’ll need to get some cash.” He frowned. “I don’t suppose any of you have… whatever they pay with here?”

“Thaler, I think,” Maximilian said. “I’m hungry, but not ‘rob someone and get arrested’ hungry, Roja.”

“Nobody’s getting arrested,” Roja said. He looked up at his friends. “Father’s purse?” Maria looked down at him with a fiendish grin and nodded. Selico pulled a small purse out of his pocket. It jingled. “Perfect.” Catching a look from the others, he slid down the side of the roof. “Follow me,” he told the others. Iana helped Aisha down, and Roja made sure the youngest didn’t hurt herself getting off the roof. 

Despite her and Iana’s thin frames, they seemed more than happy to take part in whatever hijinks were to follow, while Eodhan looked apprehensive at best. Maximilio was cautious but curious. 

Landing on the cobblestones, Roja looked around. He held up his hand, and a second later ‘father’s purse’ jingled in his hand, tossed down by Selico. With gentle thumps and thuds, the others soon stood next to him. 

“Okay,” Maximilio said, “I’ll bite. What’s ‘father’s purse’? I’ll assume this is not your actual father’s purse.” Roja grinned at him and winked. 

“You’ll see,” Roja said. “Unless you want to play along? Actually…” he looked him up and down. “Yeah, you look old enough, and you’re dressed with enough pomp.” He bit his tongue. “No offence.”

“None taken. So this is a grift?”

“Something like that,” Roja said. “Maria, you or me?” 

“You look like a foreign rapscallion,” she said, looking down at herself. “With the clothes they’ve put us in, I’m too much of an innocent maiden.” She looked annoyed at that. “I’ll go with Maximilio.” She paused. “What about ‘the Queen’s purse?’ I could be a lady in waiting, right?” Roja jutted his chin forward but kept his mouth shut, then shook his head. The joke wasn’t worth her wrath. He turned to the older boy instead.

“Okay,” Roja said. “I’m going to find someone with a purse that looks like this one.” He held up ‘father’s purse’. It was a nondescript, well-tailored leather bag with a subtle trim. From a distance, it could belong to just about anyone. “Then I’m going to toss him the purse. You’ll be in close pursuit.”

Maximilio raised an eyebrow, but Roja was already scanning the crowd. A wealthy-looking man stood by one of the stalls. “Okay,” Maria said. “Everyone, go around the corner and prepare to run. Max— Can I call you Max?” 

“Absolutely,” Maximilio said, “I take it you and I wait at the end of the street, for whatever Roja is about to do?” Maria nodded. 

While she explained their part of the plan to Max, Roja already made his way through the thinning crowd. The noble’s purse was very similar to the one he was carrying, and about as full. Of course, the one he was carrying, ‘father’s purse’, was filled with metal shavings and fake coins, but just holding it in one’s hand, no one would be able to tell. It weighed and jingled perfectly. 

He breathed in and out a few times, until he was properly out of breath and then ran up to the man, skidding to a halt with just enough noise to make him turn around. He did his best to look scared, bewildered. The man was somewhere in his forties. Though the clothing in this country was different from what he was used to, Roja could recognize ‘wealthy’ clothes. It was the brocades, the little details, and the fact that his facial hair had been professionally shaped like a letter. 

“Sir!” he said quickly, before the man could regain his wits. “You seem a trustworthy man! Please, hold this and give it to no-one!” He tossed the man the purse and sprinted off, leaving the nobleman slightly dumbfounded in his wake. Just in time, he heard the shouting of Maximilio behind him. 

He slid to a halt around the corner and rejoined the rest of the group, who were standing around trying to look respectable. Roja slid up next to Iana, who gave him her coat and hat. Feeling a bit silly to wear women’s travel wear like that, he knew it would let him blend in. His red hair would stand out otherwise, and he knew that a youthful face and a large coat would make people forget he was there or assume he was a part of some young woman’s entourage. 

None of them, however, could resist peeking around the corner, where Maximilio was putting on an impressive show, playing the role of Maria’s chaperone. He was thanking the man profusely and offering him a sum in return for “the girl’s father’s purse.” The purse Roja had tossed the nobleman had been significantly fuller and heavier than his own, so now all they had to do was wait for greed to kick in. 

The nobleman smiled, gave a deep bow, and offered Maximilio his own purse, presenting it as the one lost. “Gets them every time,” Roja chuckled. Iana shot him a pointed look. “Is it really stealing if they’re giving us their money because they think they’re robbing us?” Behind him, Aisha giggled, and Iana bit her lip. 

“I suppose not,” she said. “Clever. What do you do when he checks the purse?”

“Be somewhere else,” Roja said as Maximilio dug into the newly-received nobleman’s purse and gave him several coins, then walked off quickly. As soon as he rejoined them, they all scampered away. In the distance, the nobleman’s cries of thievery and mischief erupted, but they were already streets ahead. 

Ducking into an alleyway that led to a small festival square, they all finally allowed themselves to relax, laughing as they checked the purse. Even Eodhan seemed to have warmed to the idea of this kind of hijinks, even if he was unsure about what they’d done. Roja caught his eye and tossed him a coin. 

“From the looks of it,” he said, “the man likely has a lot more of this at home. Don’t waste your feelings on the rich, Eodhan. They grow fat off it.”

“Speaking of fat,” Iana said, “I’m hungry.” She sniffed the air. The air was full of smells, and a lot of those smells were the kind that made their mouths (and sometimes eyes) water.

“As am I,” Selico said, appearing from behind them. “You weren’t followed, by the way.” 

“Good,” Roja said. “Now that we have coin — what did you say there were called, Thales?”

“Thaler,” Eodhan said. “Or Thalers, I suppose.”

“That. Now that we have some, we can get ourselves something to eat. And while it will likely be expensive, we have a rich man’s purse, and a festival-full of food to try out.” They all eyed each other excitedly, then looked down at the small square near them. Several people were walking away from it with what appeared to be paper boxes and eating out of them. “Well, I have to know…” he mumbled. 

Street food was found everywhere, of course. Back home, chickpeas — in hummus or roasted — and the occasional piece of salted meat were often eaten alongside or even inside some bread (sweetened, if you could afford it), and that was easy enough to carry on the go. But he also knew that what he smelled was not roasted chickpeas. 

The stall was fairly modest, with some candles and flags around it. The real attraction seemed to be the woman working behind the bench, and the food she served. When she faced them, there was the sense that she wasn’t so much turning around as that the world was coming around to show her in a different light. She had gravitas, and round cheeks and a warm smile to sell it. Behind her, a large cauldron bubbled happily and smelled like… cake? Roja was momentarily at a loss for words, but Iana took a step forward. 

“Kind lady, we’ve come from very far, and have not had a chance to see the city yet.”

“Well, you’ve come to the right place!” the woman said happily. “And at the right time, too. The Light Festival’s a wonderful time to see the city. You’ll be wanting to try some bits?” All of them stared at her, but Roja nodded. Uncertainty was best quenched with experience, he figured, even if it tasted weird. “Smälta bits,” the lady said. “Tell me you’ve had them before?!” She seemed genuinely offended at the idea. 

“Can’t say we have,” Iana said. “It sounds interesting. What is it?”

“Well, how about I get each of you’s one for free,” she said as she turned around, “and if you like them well enough, we can get you a few boxes, eh?” 

From a nearby table, she put some balls of what looked like dough on a platter, which she lowered into the cauldron with a pair of tongs. A few seconds later, she presented them each with a fried ball of… something, in a bit of paper. Roja stared at it. It looked greasy enough to slick his hair with and have enough left over to polish a floor with. 

“It’s better with some sugar,” the lady said. “We’ve had a fantastic beet harvest this year, so you can try some of that, too.” She put a small cup on the bench. Carefully, Roja dipped the ball into the sugar, and then took a bite. 

It was like getting punched in the mouth with a brick of hot sugar, but then the other flavours started to come through. It was clearly fried batter and sugar, but there were other things in there as well. Cinnamon, which he had been able to try once at New Year’s, licorice root, and several other spices in the centre. The lady winked happily when she saw his overwhelmed expression. 

“It’s a local specialty,” she said. “They’re supposed to just be lard and sugar, but I like to give them something extra.” Seeing how Roja had responded, the others dug in as well. Aisha burned her tongue and laughed, and Iana savoured hers with so much delight Roja had to tear his eyes away. 

“I’ll smack you if you keep staring like that,” Maria whispered in his ear, “if she doesn’t do it first.” She was licking her fingers clean, and while she was glaring at him, a smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. 

“Don’t you threaten me, Lady Maria,” Roja said, looking her up and down. “In that dress, anyone could run circles around you.” 

“I’d still kick your ass with one hand,” she said with a smile, then turned back to the lady. “How much to get each of us a box and some sugar?” The lady obliged, and soon after, each of them was digging in, getting their fingers so greasy the stains would be on their clothes for days. It was all worth it, Roja thought as they now calmly walked through the festival. Now that they had food and a bit of spending money, they could look at the stalls, listen to the music, and drink the night in. The Light Festival had started, and he was going to enjoy it to the fullest. 

“Maria,” he said, “what do you think of that dress?” He pointed at a nearby stall. She scrunched up her nose and looked, then turned to face him with a frown. 

“You know I don’t care abMMF.” Her complaint had been silenced when he shoved one of the smälta bits in her mouth. 

“Got you,” he said with the most impish grin he could muster. Selico burst out laughing as Maria hiked up her skirt and gave chase.