Guarding the Treasure by J. K. Zimmer

cost.”
    Anya nodded with no expression as she left. The bond between the two was beginning to tighten.
     
    As they walked the short distance to Dool, the women agreed that the day was sunnier than usual.
    “I’m glad we decided to go this way,” Anya said. “The countryside is so alive and vibrant.”
    Colleen remained silent for a long minute. “Yes, it is, Miss. I have the privilege of enjoying the sights and sounds each morning on my way to the castle.” Her face was void of expression.
    Anya stopped, reaching to touch the servant’s arm. “Colleen, I am sorry. I forgot that you walk this road every day, and some distance at that. We could have hitched the buggy.”
    “Nonsense, Miss,” Colleen said, looking directly into her pretty face. “Besides, do you know how to drive a buggy?”
    Anya’s eyebrows rose, then a broad smile filled her face.
    “I did not think so,” Colleen laughed. “I think this is a safer way for us to travel. Come on,” she coaxed, putting her arm around the younger woman’s waist.
    Dool was full of activity as they walked the narrow street that ran between small mercantile shops on the left and the market on the right.
    “Is it always bustling like this?” Anya asked, her eyes and ears absorbing the sights and sounds of peasants and animals milling about.
    “This day of the week brings more farmers to the village. They are selling their produce to the local vendors, see? Look there,” Colleen said as she pointed to a middle-aged man in well-worn brown trousers and a faded blue shirt. He was unloading a crate of potatoes and five small containers with wooden lids. “I like to shop on delivery day. The meat and vegetables are fresh, and the best part is I get to see some of my friends and even a neighbor now and again,” she said, stepping onto the wooden platform that lined the front of the market.
    “I feel a little awkward,” Anya said, trailing slightly behind Colleen. “I’ve never been to the market.”
    Colleen smiled as she continued to walk slowly, listening to the weary sound of the planks beneath their feet, eyeing what the vendors were showing in their baskets. “Mrs. O’Connell started taking me to the market when she first hired me.”
    Anya looked up. A soft smile lay on Colleen’s lips as if reflecting upon a fond memory.
    “Really? Why would she do that?” Anya asked a curious tone in her voice. “I always thought when Mother was going to the village; she went to get personal items and to see my father at the water’s front?”
    Colleen stopped to buy two green peppers. Handing the merchant two coins, she tipped her chin to him and continued. “Your mother wanted to guide me to the stands with the best produce.” Her glance went to Anya, who had a pepper in her hand and was breathing deeply of its freshness. “But to tell you the truth, I think she had her favorites, just as my mother still does. She would say, don’t buy the first red pepper you see, look further down the line. Then she would smile at me.”
    Anya slid her fingertips along the vendor tables as Colleen reminisced about her time with Anya’s beloved mother. Her eyes soaked in the brightly colored vegetables as they walked. She breathed deeply, pulling in the strong smell of lemon grass, cilantro, garlic, and onion. The herbs were soothing to her senses, bringing calmness to her mind so absent in the early morning. Anya’s expression softened.
    “What are you thinking about, Miss?” Colleen asked as she looked over the small, light-skinned potatoes.
    “Oh, not much,” she said, sliding alongside Colleen. “Just wondering how I could be so removed from all this, from those who live so close to me?”
    Colleen giggled. “Miss, you haven’t been removed from anything. You have just lived a different life from many of these.” She stopped, thinking out loud. “But in an indirect way, you are very much a part of what goes on here. Many of the supplies in the market are a