Chapter 5.
Peridot moved on past the next stall, where bowls of warm hummus were being sold with hunks of crusty bread. Next to this was a small cart where an old man was selling chunks of nougat, and Peridot’s mouth watered at the sight. The pig was becoming rather heavy by this time and was struggling to get to the food. Peridot put it on the ground where it followed closely behind her as she wandered through the bazaar. She realised with a slight shock that she had no money and therefore no way of purchasing anything.
‘I should have kept my bracelets for trading,’ she thought wistfully, as the smell of newly baked bread wafted past her. She lingered by a carpet vendor, to admire the skill of his two young daughters who were weaving a mat patterned in rich blue and red. There was a sudden shout. The sight and smell of the food had been too much for the pig, which had pushed its snout into a basket of dates and was gobbling down a large and sticky mouthful.
‘Hey! You’ll have to pay for that. You owe me three sertisis,’ the stallholder accosted Peridot angrily. He glared at her, his black moustache quivering in anger.
‘I don’t have any money. Besides, it’s not my pig,’ replied Peridot indignantly.
The pig promptly moved to Peridot’s side where it nuzzled her lovingly and sat down.
‘Oh, yes,’ sneered the stallholder. ‘A likely tale. Come on, three sertisis. Hand them over.’
Peridot was dismayed. A small crowd had formed and there were angry mutters from the surrounding stallholders. No one liked a thief, and Peridot knew well that the punishment was likely to be severe for such a crime. She looked around in desperation but all the faces, which had appeared to be friendly a few minutes ago, were now unpleasant and threatening. Peridot thought frantically. She had nothing that was worth anything with her except the brooch that was pinned to her turban. It was a beautifully worked gold brooch in the shape of a P that Peridot had been given as a small child. With a pang she realised that she would have to exchange it for money or she was going to be in real trouble.
‘You’d better have this in payment,’ Peridot croaked, unfastening the brooch from the front of her turban and hoping the whole thing wouldn’t fall off her head. She proffered it to the stallholder who grasped it quickly and put it in a pocket in his coat.
‘That will do. Now be off with you.’
‘Just a minute,’ protested Peridot. ‘It must be worth more than three sertisis. It’s made of gold.’
‘Oh yes, and where would an urchin like you get a real gold clasp from?’ laughed the stallholder. ‘Here.’ He tossed a small copper coin to her. ‘One sertisi for change. Can’t say fairer than that.’
Peridot opened her mouth and shut it again. She couldn’t tell him who she was and she had a sinking feeling that there would be trouble over the missing brooch. With a heavy heart she turned away.
‘And it’s not even as if I got any food out of it,’ she informed the pig, which had found some disgusting scraps beside a stall and was munching contentedly. ‘I guess I’ll have to go home again.’
Peridot’s spirits plummeted at the thought of the long walk back to the palace, but she told herself sternly that even an adventure like this was preferable to listening to Pearl and Jade comparing suitors or talking about weddings. She briefly contemplated selling the pig, but regretfully decided that it really wasn’t hers to sell.
‘And I don’t think I could bring myself to eat pork sausages ever again, if I did,’ she sighed.
The droning of a pipe signalled the hour of prayer and the stallholders hurriedly began covering their booths with canvas covers as the crowd moved away in the direction of the temple. Peridot fought against the flow of the crowd and soon found herself on the outskirts of the town. With a sigh she started walking down the road, the pig trotting behind her.
Passing a tree that spread a welcome patch of shade over the road. Peridot was surprised to see what appeared to be an old heap of rags suddenly rise up to reveal an old woman. She cried out and reached for Peridot’s hand.
‘Fortunes told. Fortunes told. Cross my hand with silver and I’ll tell your fortune.’
Shrewd black eyes peered at Peridot above a tatty black veil.
‘I don’t have any silver,’ Peridot told her kindly. ‘I only have one sertisi.’
Before she could say that she was intending to use that to purchase an orange from a vendor further down the road, the old woman had grasped her arm with thin withered fingers. The old woman had a surprisingly strong grip and Peridot weakly handed over the coin as she saw how thin she was.
‘She probably needs the food more than me,’ she thought guiltily, remembering the huge platters of food that were prepared for the princesses each day, and how they would pick at them and send most of the food away uneaten.
The old woman tucked the sertisi in her bodice then took Peridot’s hand and peered intently into the palm. She gave a shrill cackle of laugher.
‘Oh, you have a lot of excitement before you, my dear,’ she croaked. ‘Your life holds many unexpected turns before it is through.’ She muttered to herself in a strange language then looked at Peridot again. ‘You’d better go home, my dear. This is not your place,’ she advised. Spotting the pig she cackled again. ‘Oh that Saladin. I’d recognise his work anywhere. You must have upset him badly to end up like that.’
‘What are you talking about?’ asked Peridot in bewilderment.
‘That pig. He’s no real pig. He is a prince. He carries the signs of a bewitchment by the wizard Saladin. You’ll have to find a way to set him free or he’ll have a hard job avoiding the butcher. He’s fattening up nicely.’
With a chortle, the old woman hobbled off towards the town gate, while Peridot stood aghast, watching her.
‘Are you really a prince?’ she asked the pig.
The pig grunted and nudged her in the leg with its wet muzzle.
‘But that’s terrible,’ exclaimed Peridot. ‘I have no idea what to do now.’
She puzzled over the pig’s predicament as she trudged back along the road to the palace. Her suffering seemed negligible to that of the pig and the journey passed quickly.
Arriving back at the wall she had climbed that morning. Peridot looked at it in dismay. How was she to climb back over it, and what was worse, get the pig over it? She was hot and sweaty and caked in dust and her mouth felt as dry as the dirt beneath her scuffed and worn sandals.
‘Can I help you?’ put in a voice.
Peridot spun around to see the gardener regarding her shyly. He was wearing a shirt only slightly better than the one he had left for Peridot, and his large brown eyes regarded her soulfully.
‘Oh, it’s you,’ she cried in relief. ‘Thank you for the coat, or rather, shirt. It has been great but I need to get back into the palace and I found this pig only apparently he’s really a prince in disguise or rather been enchanted and I don’t know what to do. And I’m so hungry,’ she ended on a wail.
The gardener gave her a grin. ‘Life’s a bit different outside the palace, isn’t it?’
‘Why are you talking to me? I mean, you wouldn’t even look at me before? I don’t even know your name.’
‘My name’s Ravid and it’s different out here. Here is where I belong and in there is where I work.’ The gardener jerked a thumb towards the palace. ‘I can’t talk to you in there or they’d have my head. But I can do what I like out here.’
‘What are we going to do about the prince?’ asked Peridot, as the pig snuffled around her feet.
‘I can look after him for you, if you like. My house is only a short distance away. Then you can find a way to disenchant him or whatever it is that’s needed.’
‘That would be great,’ cried Peridot in relief. ‘Can you help me back over the wall? I’ll leave your clothes under the seat but I can’t use them again until next Hallow Day. But if I come up with any ideas before then I’ll leave you a note under the seat. Er, you can read, can’t you?’
‘Of course I can
read. Just because I work in the Royal Garden doesn’t make me a complete idiot,’ Ravid said indignantly.
‘Why do you work there?’ asked Peridot curiously.
‘The money is very good and I’m saving to buy my own piece of land. I’m going to grow olives and oranges one day. Now put your foot here in my hands and I’ll give you a boost up.’
Ravid clasped his hands together as he spoke. Peridot took a deep breath and put one dusty sandal firmly on top of them. The gardener, who was a well-muscled young man, heaved her up beside the wall where she was able to grasp a tree branch and pull herself over.
‘Thanks heaps,’ she called breathlessly, as she landed with a rustle of leaves on the soft grass below. Pulling off her turban, she bundled it under the seat with the shirt, and thankfully replaced her bracelets. She could feel her hair standing wildly around her face so she wrapped her shawl over it and arranged her veil modestly over her face, thankful for something to disguise her rather sunburned nose. The sandals were ruined, so Peridot shrugged and tossed them under the seat as well.
She made her way to the Bath House where she was fortunate to find it deserted apart from Garnet and Moonstone who were lying in the shallows pretending to be mermaids. Peridot dived into the cool water, something that was normally frowned upon by the bath attendants, who were idling in the adjacent courtyard sipping iced tea. Peridot had a brief but extremely wet game with Garnet and Moonstone where she was the crocodile chasing the mermaids, before she gave herself over to the slave girls to be dressed and groomed again.
Shiraz, one of the bath attendants, was a favourite of Peridot’s, and she brought a clean change of clothes for her without comment. Peridot giggled as Shiraz fixed a large turquoise in her belly button and gratefully stuffed down half a dozen sweet pastries stuffed with almonds and honey.
‘Do you wish your nails painted?’ Shiraz inquired. ‘I have a new silver gilt here that would look beautiful on you.’
‘Why not,’ sighed Peridot, reclining on the silken cushions in relief and enjoying being pampered.
That evening as she sat with her sisters watching the lights of the town twinkling in the distance, Peridot admitted to herself that there was a lot to be said for being a princess.
‘But I must do something about that pig prince,’ she thought, as she yawned and made her way to bed.