18ish

The streets were crowded as Madak and Zula made their way to the market. Mado's hair was covreed with a swatch of cloth and tightly pinned, so that none of the two-year-old's best efforts could dislodge it. Nost trailed a little behind them, carrying the large woven basket which would hold the day's purchases.



Madak held Mado tightly, balancing the child on her hip as they walked through the streets.

"Mama, mama, want down!" Mado began to squirm, pointing down at the dusty road. "Want down, want down!" Madak looked at Zula, who nodded, then gently let Mado slip to the ground. The child gigglged and began to run in circles around the two women, who were walking at a more sedate pace.
"Stay close, Mado. I don't want you running off and getting lost," Zula called out.
They entered the main plaza, and Zula turned to go to the basket weaver's shop. Some of the larger household baskets had begun to wear thin, and she wanted to get some new ones.
"Ved," said Zula, careful to use her friend's pseudonym in public, "will you go and see about buying the bread? I trust your judgement, and I may be here for a while."
Madak nodded, and made her way across the stone plaza. The sand whispered across the stones in jagged lines, undulating in the morning sun. The smell of the bread wafted out across the open space as Madak walked up to the shaded tent. "Good morning, Ved. How are things with your mistress' household today? " The baker smiled warmly, as he stacked circles of soft flat bread.
The housekeeper smiled, as she began selecting various breads for the household meals. "They are well, thank you."
"And little Mado? I think I see her chasing birds in the plaza out there..."
Madak laughed, and nodded. "A handful, as always, but good natured. She rarely cries, and never holds a grudge, which is more than I can say for many children. I do not think I ever saw one so ready to be friends with everyone."

A few minutes later, basket laden with fresh loaves, Madak crossed the plaza again in search of Zula. Two small shapes darted across the pavement in front of her; one was Mado, giggling madly and pursuing her was a small boy with ragged black hair. As they dashed across her path, Madak saw the boy grab for Mado. Missing her shoulder, his hand gripped the fabric of her head scarf. Mado pulled away, and the cloth fell away. Her golden white hair flashed in the sun, and Madak's heart skipped a beat.

"Mado!" she hissed, not wanting to attract attention. "Mado, come back here!" She walked rapidly after the girl, but was forced to break into a run to keep up. She nearly ran into a tall man in her haste to catch Mado, and apologized profusely before ducking around him.
She caught a glimpse of bright hair in the crowd ahead, and sprinted through a small knot of chattering servants. She saw Mado at the edge of the plaza, about to turn and make a circuit in front of the houses that lined the street. The bread basket fell to the ground as Madak lunged for Mado, and finally caught her. She quickly grabbed the scarf from the sweaty grasp of the little boy who had pulled it off, and with a quick twist had Mado's hair covered.
As her heart pounded against her ribs, she saw a pair of black boots standing on the pavement in front of the spot where she knelt. Madak instinctively pulled Mado close, and looked up.
The hem of the black robes of the priest whipped around the leather boots, brushing away the sand that clung to them. Her eyes traveled upward over the wiry frame; a thick leather belt cinched his robes around his waist, and he wore a battered scabbard that housed a short sword. His pale skin was reddened from exposure to the sun, and his eyes blazed into hers.
She drew back, and grabbed the fallen basket of bread with her free hand, clutching Mado close with the other. At the sight of the priest, the child had fillen silent, and clung to the housekeeper. Madak bowed hastily, very conscious of her bright hair and pale skin that marked her as a foreigner in this land. She sprinted across the plaza, and quickly found Zula coming out of the basket-weaver's shop. She hurriedly thrust Mado into her mother's arms, and whispered hoarsely, "The priest is back, and I do not think that he is alone. Mado's scarf fell away as she played, and I am afraid that he saw it." Zula tensed, and turned to go back to the house. Madak followed closely behind, and they had almost entered the street that would take them away from the market when a shout rang out.
"Stop! There is a witch among you!" The clamour of the marketplace dwindled away to little more than the sounds of the pack animals, and the whistling of the wind and sand. Zula nd Madak continued toward the street, but stopped as two black-robed figures blocked the way.
Veren stepped into the middle of the plaza, the metal studs on the soles of his boots ringing on the flagstones. "This witch has summoned a dead spirit, a haji, to come and dwell among you. If the haji is not destroyed, it will ruin your crops, and dry up your wells." A gasp went up from the crowd and several mothers held their children closer. Veren continued, his eyes roaming around the plaza. "This witch practices her evil arts by night, and has enssnared you so that you cannot even see her for what she is. We cannot tolerate such a creature to live anywhere in our lands."
As the two priests closed in on them, Madak and Zula backed towards the crowd in the plaza again. Madak grabbed Zula's arm, and whispered again: "There is nothing to be done now. Leave me here, and get away. They may yet leave you in peace."
"Never," Zula whispered back. "You are my friend, and I will not stand silently by. I know that you are no witch, and you saved my daughter's life with your knowledge. I will not leave you."
But Madak pushed her away, and flung herself towards the priests in what seemed a desperate attempt to escape. One of the priests struck her a blow to the head with a leather-gloved fist, and she fell to the pavement. The other grabbed a fistfull of her hair, and her upper arm, and jerked her to her feet. They hustled her forward through the crowd and unceremoniously dumped her to the ground in the center of the plaza.
"I have observed her burning the remnants of a spell, cast three years ago. I have heard, with my own ears, this woman sing a song of the witches of the Selides. Does she have the dark eyes of Kedon? Or the brown hair of Ersa? Or even the dark skin of the Astaldak? No! And she has brought the evil spirit among you, in the form of a child."
Zula's heart stopped, as she realized what would now happen. The priests thought that Mado was an evil spirit in human form; they would take her, and nothing she could say would stop them. Mushad, she thought, if only he were home...He might be able to stop them.
She turned, and ran down the now-empty street towards her house, squeezing Mado tightly to her breast. Behind her, she could hear the dull thud of the blows that the priests were raining down on Madak.