My first chance to replicate Father’s talent--and no, I didn’t mean breaking noses--came when Mother grabbed me from my crib at the sun’s rising. “Good morning, Crow! Want to come with Mommy to the market?”

The sling was secured, and off we went. It was another picturesque day at the square, and I gawked at the barking vendors and bustling villagers.

My father had decided to not disclose the incident to my mother, and I agreed with his decision. The burglars were unsuccessful in their endeavor, so nothing of value was taken, and neither Father nor I sustained any injury from the skirmish. To inform her of their attempt at this point would only alarm her unnecessarily. After witnessing Father’s fighting skill, I figured we were probably safer than before! No doubt those bandits would spread the word to all their dubious cohorts: don’t go in that cottage!

“Fine morning, miss,” a vendor called from a nearby stand. “Fresh potatoes to liven your meals!”

My mother approached the stand and examined his stock. Finally, it was my chance! I had pondered my father’s fancy fingerwork until the moment I fell asleep last evening, and I believed I had figured out his trick. Of course he was able to present his palms to me; the card was pinched between his fingers behind the hand.

“It all looks fine, but I’m afraid we’ve not the coin to spare,” my mother said. “Perhaps another day.”

“Surely, one cannot sup on bread and meat alone,” the vendor insisted. “Potatoes are good for the body, especially to grow strong healthy boys!” I folded my hands politely at my mention, looking like the picture of innocence.

“You raise a fine point, sir. The price is fair for such quality goods, but it is just above my reach,” my mother haggled. “If it could be lowered…”

The vendor laughed heartily. “Naught be a threat quite so dangerous as a woman armed with wit! I suppose a coin shaved can be managed.” He turned to pick up a small sack of potatoes. Within reach, I spotted my mark. While my fingers did not possess quite the deftness to grip one behind my hand, I was able to grasp it with a quick wave and slip it into the sling without notice. The two concluded their business, none the wiser of my suppressed exhilaration. Eeeeee!

The rest of the errand went by quickly. My mother went to Auntie Bev’s to drop off a few of the potatoes she’d purchased, and I flirted with some young ladies as we went. They likely found me more adorable than suave, seeing as yawning garnered more attention than my winks. There was a time when women swooned by the swarm over me, but, in my current state, I would take what I could get, even if that meant only peasant girls. Still got it.

Bev’s looked crowded--more so than usual--with malnourished villagers. Who captured my interest most among them, however, were not impoverished, but members of my father’s guild, adorned in their green cloaks. Over the chatter of the kitchen, I couldn’t make out much, but they seemed to be discussing their ill fortune with catching significant game as of late.

“Yeh, I’ve noticed it as well,” one said. “More trees have ‘em, and marks in the dirt too. Scorch marks from somethin’.” Just like what Father examined. 

“Probably nothin’,” suggested another. “Folk passin’ through never take care. Doubt it’s nothin’ more than a clumsy traveler.”

The men from the other day came to mind. I suppose it’s possible there are more bandits in the woods, and it certainly explains the scorch marks. A tussle of my hair from Bev diverted my focus. “An’ some crumbs for the Crow,” she said, handing me some bread. It was becoming a bit easier to understand her--but only a bit.

When we returned to the cottage, I could hardly contain my excitement. My parents spoke to each other, and my mother released me from my sling. As I was set to the floor, my parents paused their conversation as I shared my spoils. Two potatoes, a carrot, a hairpin, three coppers and, if I had just an extra inch of reach, I could have swiped a horseshoe. 

My mother turned to my father, mouth agape, and slapped his shoulder. “This is your doing, isn’t it?” My father was laughing, but Mother didn’t seem amused. “You’ve raised a little thief!”

I was smiling when my father knelt down to my level, proud of the treasure I secured. I knew we had some troubles finding enough food day to day, so this should help.

Father’s tone was gentle. “Crow. I know you were only trying to help.” He gathered the collection of items around me. “But stealing is wrong. The men and women of this village are struggling just as everyone. It wouldn’t be right taking a meal from their tables only to place it on ours, understand?”

But… we’re hungry! My frustration piqued. If we can’t find food in the wild and we can’t use magic and we can’t steal, how are we supposed to survive?! 

Life as a peasant was going to be harder than I thought. Almost as hard as the life of an emperor.