Page 4 of A Court Bright and Broken

And I neverhadcared. Until today.

My gaze strayed back to the corner, around which the last of the pickpockets was disappearing.

For whatever reason, I was troubled by the thought of this girl being stalked and robbed—and perhaps worse—by the gang members.

Before I quite knew what was happening, I was on my feet again and moving in the direction of the corner vegetable stall.

Rounding it, I scanned the busy lane, looking for the band of thieves. There they were, about halfway down the aisle.

Directly across the way, I spotted the top of the girl’s hood. She was facing away from the predators, leaning into a booth, speaking with the proprietor.

The older woman must have said something funny, because the younger one laughed, a sweet sound that rose above the cacophony of market noise. I couldn’t hear what she said in response, but it must have been something kind because the old woman placed both hands over her heart and smiled, looking touched, and they exchanged a brief hug.

One of the thieves broke from the pack and made his move.

And I made mine.

I reached the girl just before he did. “There you are, my heart,” I bellowed.

Stepping in between her and the man, I slung an arm around her back and swept her away from the booth and down the lane.

“If I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a thousand times, leave it to yourhusbandto conduct the business,” I announced loudly in my most obnoxious “husbandly” tone.

“Husband? Wh-what?” she gasped, struggling not to stumble as she was compelled along by my much longer stride and the large hand clamped at her waist.

I wasn’t carrying her completely, but her feet were barely touching the ground. That was intentional as I couldn’t allow her to dig in like a baby mule. I intended to put as much distance as possible between us and the pack of thieves before stopping to explain, whether she liked it or not.

And she didnotlike it. At all.

“Let me go,” she demanded, kicking ineffectually. “What do you want with me?”

Now she began to wriggle her top half, trying to free herself from my grasp. We were almost to the end of the row. I just hoped we made it there before she started slapping me.

“I mean you no harm,” I muttered beneath my breath. “Just be quiet and come with me if you know what’s good for you.”

“I willnotbe quiet. I’m going to scream.”

Her head whipped back and forth as if she was searching for a route of escape, or perhaps some helpful bystanders.

There were none to be found. In fact no one seemed to be paying us any mind at all. Which was good.

My hope was to put this woman on the path back to wherever she’d come from and then get back to my observation point and retrieve my sketching materials before someone decided to claim them for themselves.

I could always get more pencils and paper, but the drawings I wanted to keep.

“Go ahead and scream if you like,” I said in a casual tone. “You must be a newcomer to the Rough Market, though. Screams are part of the atmosphere. In fact, I doubt anyone would even hear you.”

As if to prove my point, a loud squeal emanated from the pig stall beside us, and a squawking chicken flapped across the path before settling on the other side. The sounds of a nearby flute and raucous laughter joined the symphony.

“Besides,I’mnot the one you should be afraid of.” I hooked a thumb over my shoulder. “Take a look behind you.”

She threw a glance backward. “What? I don’t see anything frightening.”

“See those four men?” I said. “They spotted you the moment you entered the market, and they’ve been stalking you ever since like foxes on the trail of a juicy little partridge.”

“Really? I didn’t notice,” she exclaimed.

“I know. Which is why I intervened.”For reasons that are still beyond me.

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