The Fair

Mari awoke the next morning alert and and instantly aware of the day. The scent of the fair drifted easily into her half open window and the sounds were not of any normal day. Here was the day of jugglers and acrobats, instead of the shrill cry of merchants the more beguiling sounds of the stand watchers voices sounded out. Mari stretched her body muscle by muscle calling herself to wakefulness tendon by tendon. The last to waken was the mind this she did by centering herself in each part of the brain until she reached the back and spinal cord. Here she found concentration.
It was the same ritual every morning and in it she found a foundation to her day. Today she had found it harder than any other day. The fair called out to her with its every sound and she longed to join those already milling towards its sounds. There was much to do in the manor but there were few who needed to do it on a fair day.
Stroking her hair slowly with firm deliberate strokes Mari smoothed the night away. There was no mirror but Mari knew her head well enough without it and achieved with patience and practice a head of hair that was the envy of the village. Long brown strands fell about her shoulders with light soft curls at the tips. Running her hands down her sides and then her front she felt with some dissatisfaction only the slight beginnings of womanhood. She was not yet old enough to be called flat chested but the boys would soon enough. That was the way of things. Two heads shorter than most boys her age, and a head below the girls she could never dominate in that manner. Tall women were awkward she told herself. Over-tall she corrected herself. Truth. Is not that what Tago had taught her? She glanced at the satchel now. It was worn and weather stained but it contained three parchments at the moment and though well-read her Tago was still in good condition. Tago considered truth to predominate. Even to the extent that his readers question his presumptions, and suggested often that he lied that no one could worship him as truth.
"Truth in all things, even--no especially--to oneself." Mari recited quietly. Slipping her tunic over her head and fastening her belt around her waist Mari opened the door to the celler her body writhe with excitement about the coming day.