Alexander and Alestria by Shan Sa Read Free Book Online

figurines, puppets, automated animals worked by a system of leather straps, pretty ribbons, pouches filled with ravishing stones for board games, gold counters for flipping into the gaping mouths of carved frogs, abacuses with sleekly sliding beads, floating glass fish, imitation birds made with real feathers… in the middle of all this the man struggled to keep order, brandishing toys and waving his hands as he sputtered out his prices. His shouts amused and intimidated the girls, who backed away and stopped their laughing. They could not choose: taking did not come easily to us, we who had nothing.
    I ventured over toward the spice trader to make my annual purchases. In a series of earthenware bowls blue, yellow, saffron, orange, purple, violet, and every shade of green mingled with a multitude of different whites. The price of spices had dropped that year: I sensed great changes. I followed my queen into the labyrinth of stalls displaying cloth. Fabrics fluttered over my face and stroked my hand. Rough, soft, fine, thick, transparent, opaque, sparkling, bleached, white, black, green, blue, orange, and red, all undulating in the wind and dancing in the sunlight. Dazzled, I looked away and kept my eyes on my feet: girls of Siberia could only afford the cheapest fabrics.
    On the far side of a large tent we came across the pottery market with heaps of brightly colored vases, bowls, and plates decorated with geometric designs. The people of the steppes stood on their carpets, discussing prices and gesticulating with their hands. They used colored pebbles to keep their accounts and only exchanged goods on the last day of the market.
    After pottery came the slave market, where near-naked men were exhibited with just a scrap of cloth over their hips. They lay in chains, playing dead. When anyone went near them they snapped open their eyes and watched with loathing, ready to pounce and bite.
    The plant market was covered with a roof of fine cloth and provided cool shade and sumptuous perfumes. Exotic flowers with unpronounceable names stopped my queen in her tracks. She moved away and came back again. When she found a plant she liked, she stopped and looked at it so intently it might grow inside her head.
    The sun was sinking and we headed back to our settlement still empty-handed but pleased with our walk. We did not allow ourselves anything luxurious, caring only for what was strictly necessary.
    Many tents had been set up at the entrance to the market. Newly formed couples could spend the night in one at a price of three black pebbles. Crowds drifted to and fro, buying warm milk, alcohol, and grilled meats. Dogs barked, and goat kids tied to stakes bleated. From that tumult of different accents the language of the steppes reserved for negotiations emerged most clearly.
    Men and women fell silent and parted to let the Amazon queen pass. Although small, she was radiant as the sun rising to announce a day of happy hard work. Her thick eyebrows, black eyes, and full lips all expressed her indomitable character. Following behind her, we confronted curious onlookers with our heads held high, clothed in our pride as if it were the most sumptuous of cloaks.
    Despite her youth, our queen was respected and feared. Rather than tarnishing her beauty, slander conferred on her all the charm of legend. It was said that we were abductors of men, that we married them only to kill them the following day. It was said that the queen of the Amazons had magic in her belly to make a man invincible, and that was why so many warriors risked their lives to couple with her. Women in the crowds watched us warily, while the more daring men winked and smiled at us. Dusk was spreading; eyes sparkled, glances flitted like so many stars in the darkness, addressing us in a language that needed no words. Any Amazon drawn to one of these signals could leave us and throw herself onto whoever sent out the sign like an eagle swooping on its prey. She could take the