The company paused on the threshold of the gate and turned. A single slightly hunched man stood beside where the table had stood. He wore short pants worn ragged at the hem and brown sandals that had seen better days. His shirt was clean but slightly wrinkled and was also frayed at the end of the long sleeves. His short brown hair was combed into place in a plain bowled hairstyle that suited his thin face. The man carried a slim square hard-leather pack on his back and a short rectangular box hung on the front of his waist with the aid of two strings, one wrapped around his neck and another around his waist. The rectangular box had a slim lid held shut by a flimsy golden clasp on the front. A decoration of a thick green plant growing from a black seed covered the lid.

  Pampir stepped in front of the women and stretched himself to his full height. “What do you want?”

  The man shuffled toward them with his shoulders stooped and his head slightly bowed. “My sincerest apologies for stopping you, but I was wondering if it wasn’t too late to receive a ribbon?”

  Pampir lifted his nose and swept an arm over the empty quarters. “Naturally the hour is too late. The ribbons have already been doled out and everyone has gone.”

  “Then I have come at just the right time,” the man insisted as he clasped his hands together above his box. “I didn’t seek to join the others because I have no need of a stall.” He patted the lid with the fingers of one hand. “This is all I need to sell my wares.”

  Pampir stretched his neck and examined the lid. “What do you sell? Vegetables?”

  The corners of the man’s eyes crinkled together as he shook his head. “Not exactly. I sell seeds. Magical seeds.”

  The lord scoffed. “How are they magical?”

  The man opened his lid and revealed square compartments and inside each shallow cushioned hole lay a single black seed in the shape of a pinto bean. He pinched one carefully between his index and thumb and lifted it out for viewing. “I guarantee that if you plant a seed in the garden of the one you love they will be bound to your love forever.”

  His words caught the attention of Shian who cautiously approached him. “How do you guarantee such a thing?”

  “By the strength of the gardener’s magic,” the man explained as he rolled the seed around in his fingers. “The greater the magic the more likely the seed will be to grow and blossom into that promise.”

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  “And how much do you charge for these seeds?” she inquired.

  Pampir’s bushy eyebrows crashed down at his companion. “My Lady, surely you cannot be considering allowing this man to sell his wares at the fair. More to the point, the lots have already been chosen.”

  Shian cast a sharp look at her subordinate. “The stalls have been filled but as this man said, he has no need of them.”

  The seller bobbed his head. “Very true, My Lady, very true! I need only a wide enough berth through the crowd to sell my wares.”

  Shian held out her palm to the man. Her eyes shone with a light that revealed her deep eagerness. “Allow me to see one.”

  “Of course,” the man agreed as he set the one in his hand into her palm.

  She studied the bean for a long moment and the longer she stared the darker the depths of her eyes became. Her words came out in a hushed whisper as if she were beholding an item of worship. “What a beautiful creation. Wherever did you find it?”

  The man’s eyes twinkled with a strangely dark light. “In the starry mists of time, My Lady.”

  A shadow fell on Shian’s brow and she grasped the seed tightly in her hand. “That is hardly an answer, sir.”

  He bowed his head. “My sincerest apologies, My Lady, but a merchant must never tell the customer where they discovered their merchandise or they may have one less customer and one more competitor.”

  “Then we shall not waste our time with you nor yours with us,” Pampir spoke up as he stabbed a finger at the bridge. “The road is that way, sir.”

  The stranger’s eyes never left Shian who continued to stroke the bean in her palm. “What do you say, My Lady? Do my wares please you?”

  Shian nodded. “Very much.”

  “Then you may keep the seed,” he offered her as he held out his right hand. “And I shall take my ribbon and leave.”

  Pampir’s mouth dropped open and spittle flew from his mouth at every word. “A-a ribbon! You shall not receive anything of the-”

  Shian lifted her hand and the soft glow of her magic fell over the man’s wrist. A ribbon formed itself around his limb. He drew his arm back and admired the shimmering symbol of consent. “Thank you very much, My Lady.” He stepped back and bowed his head to Pampir. “And a good day to you, My Lord.”

  A cool smile graced the stranger’s lips as he spun on his heels and sauntered away to the bridge. He disappeared over the gentle curve and all fell silent.

  That is until Pampir’s fury exploded.

  “What were you thinking, My Lady?” Pampir shrieked as he turned to face Shian. She still held the seed in her open palm and studied it like a child studying a butterfly for the first time. “We have no idea who that man was! He no doubt sells terrible goods and will ruin the fair and-”

  “There is no need to worry,” Shian interrupted him as she carefully tucked the seed into her sleeve. She lifted her eyes to her irate companion and lifted her nose slightly. “I have every faith that nothing bad will happen during the fair.”

  Pampir’s arms drooped at his sides and his face also sagged. “But My Lady. . .”

  “Come,” she commanded the group as she turned toward the gate. “Let us go home. We have been down here quite long enough.”

  She strode toward the illuminated gate with their entourage in tow. Pampir pursed his lips but sluggishly followed along behind her with a heavy heart.

  Little did he know how much trouble would come of their meeting with the stranger.