| Midnight Dancer |
Children are running excitedly through the marketplace of the town of Sandpoint. The pale late spring sunshine has driven away the early morning chill, and the gentle sea breeze is barely enough to their hair. It is a perfect day, and Sandpoint is preparing to celebrate.
Market days are normally busy, attracting not merchants and farmers from the surrounding lands to the packed market square. Occasionally a merchant from the great city to the south will make the journey up the coast in a creaking wagon, and trappers and hunters will take the trip into town to exchange their wild bounty for civilization's benefits. But today is no normal market day. Today the town will consecrate its new cathedral with much pomp and ceremony, and the occasion has prompted a carnival atmosphere.
Already crowds are gathering in front of the temporary platform in the market square, although for the moment they are more interested in the jugglers, pie vendors and the large tankards of ale being dolled out in a rickety beer tent. Nearby, a middle-aged man dressed in flamboyant clothes hands out rag-paper handbills with a theatrical flourish. Small groups of youths stand around boasting and joking, while catching glances at the giggling girls who, in time honoured fashion, affect not to notice them back.
It is about an hour before noon, when the formalities will commence, but the folk of Sandpoint, eager for fun, are not in the mood to wait.