"Well onto the competition, we aren't judges but there's always plenty of extras available for a small fee."

"Excellent. Off we go, then!" 

In the town square, the baking contest proceeds apace, with small slices arranged in front of several discerning judges while onlookers cheer between mouthfuls.

A bright-eyed girl of perhaps fourteen manages the overflow table. She eyes the out-of-towners warily. 

"Hello! Would you be responsible for any of these delights? They smell simply divine."

"My da made these," she says, pointing to a pair of cheese-and-honey loaves, already partially sliced for the contest.

"Well then I simply must try them." Lilian hands over a larger coin than is strictly required, even for a group of four. The girl accepts it, staring a bit before motioning for the group to help themselves.

Lilian's guards take turns between watching for trouble and snacking on the extra.

Alex will also partake. "Mmm. Your da is very talented."

"Thanks! I helped with the rest of the baking this festival. Next year he says he'll let me help with the contest, too."

Lilian chats with the girl and passerby, paying only the barest attention to the baking contest. The girl, Marin, gradually warms to Lilian and is soon talking animatedly about the relative merits of stone and clay ovens.

The contest is not quite finished when the noon bell tolls. Shortly thereafter, before the awards are properly handed out, there's a shout from the edge of the square. Conversations die and heads turn to look at the source, a sweaty runner in Eriksmont livery. 

"...citizens ordered to gather on the green! Audite! Audite! By Imperial command, all citizens and festival-goers are to gather on the green! No exceptions! Everyone to the green!"

The crier doesn't wait to be acknowledged; after only a few shouts he dashes off in the direction of the temple, leaving a confused murmur in his wake.

"That is not how things usually go. I guess we can't escape the politics after all."

"Oh, ferrets. Well, I suppose there's nothing else for it." 

Lilian and her guards join the steady stream of people milling in the general direction of the east gates. 

It's slow, noisy going. There's a press of people filtering out of the square, side streets, and nearby houses, but they don't seem to be going anywhere; they're mostly standing around and talking in a confused murmur that slowly evolves into a hubbub. 

It takes nearly fifteen minutes to get out of the gates. The situation at the green looks similarly disorganized; the Order of Cognizance magus and his entourage are still there, along with a halfhearted line of former dancers, a pile of fabric streamers, and an unattended and partially assembled archery range. Near the entourage, a scowling bear of a man stands with a half-dozen others, glaring at the guards. Alex recognizes the first man as the town's foremost blacksmith, Aldric; he sometimes makes medical tools to Jen's exacting specifications.

Also recognizeable is the mayor of Eriksmont, Daertes, engaged in a sweaty conference with half a dozen town officials and ombudsmen. 

Aldric isn't usually easy to rile. Alex is starting to get a bad feeling about this.

"I wonder what's going on. What's so important that they need everyone here?"

"Well, in more centrally Imperial towns it's common practice to gather everyone in one place for the annual Gift check. The annual scheduled Gift check, mind you, which everyone knows about because it happens every year on the same day. I can only assume that's what this is about. But if this fellow expects a border town to turn out in droves to stand patiently for some Imperial function they probably haven't seen in half a generation, on an hour's notice, on a festival day, he's even more shortsighted than I thought. It's embarrassing, that's what it is, simply embarrassing." 

"I hope that's all this is."

As time ticks by and the entire village continues to mostly fail to show up promptly, tensions visibly escalate. Twice, the magus (now dismounted) approaches the mayor's group; the second time, Aldric marches over to the mayor's side, gesticulating angrily.

At about a quarter to one, it looks like the magus has finally had enough; he says something and a pair of his guards seize Aldric and begin to drag him bodily towards the town gate. Aldric, mercifully, doesn't seem inclined to fight; they're armed, and he isn't. But the look on his face is thunderously angry. The other townsfolk eye the line of menacing soldiers and likewise stay put. Murmurs pass through the slowly gathering crowd; Alex catches only a few words, among them "delays?" and "Aldric" and "make an example".

"I wonder what he said. He's a good man he doesn't deserve to die for this." Alex is increasingly wondering if it would be better to flee but it seems like it might be too late for that.

Aldric is brought into town through the gates, and an uneasy silence reigns over the green. 

It's at this point that the magus appears to take notice of the woman in the fancy ballgown at the edge of the green. He gestures to the remainder of his entourage, then remounts and begins to approach.

"Well, it was bound to happen sooner or later." 

The magus looks decidedly older than Lilian, and his robes are fine but somewhat rumpled. He approaches at a steady trot, half a dozen guards jogging to keep up.

"Why, Aeschivus, you old dog, whatever brings you so far from the capital? Here to enjoy the sights of lovely Eriksmont? I must say, I never knew you to be a festive type."

"Business, Lilian," the magus says, stiffly. "I am fulfilling my duties to the Empire, as do all respectable magi, when called upon. I'm far more interested in what you think you're doing out here."