Market day in Bumhampton-Upon-Stroke was every third Friday, not the Farmer’s Market that was every Saturday, but the Vendor’s Market where baubles and trinkets from all corners of the known world could be had for the right price. Traders and tinkers, merchants and whores, beggars and gentry, nobility and thieves – as if there is a difference – all competed with zest for the coin and barter of the throngs. For Lord Bumhampton he was looking for… well, not ‘gifts’ precisely for his servants, but more of implements that would dissolve certain recalcitrant behaviors on the part of anyone who fancied herself a princess. Such was the hard life of his Lordship, it was enough to make him pull out his hair and howl at the moon like a wolf.
By Rose Dewy Knickers, September 24th, 2008