The Errant Flock by Jana Petken

of possessions, but they were good, respectable people. The duke, for all his noble blood, was worse than a bloodsucking varlet living off the poor, and now he had killed the poor for their baby!
    “Papa, I’m sorry,” David said again.
    Talking to no one in particular, Juan said, “We Sanzes have always survived by abiding by the law, not making enemies, and keeping our own council. Before me, the Sanz men were indebted to no one, and even when they were Jews, they enjoyed good friendships with Christian neighbours. My father and grandfather were wonderful leather makers. They produced saddles, bridles, leather belts, and dagger sheaths for noblemen from Sagrat to Valencia. I could have carried on the family business had I not had dreams of farming the land. So I’m at fault too, you see ... I have brought you to this.”
    Juan closed his eyes, unable to look at his family. He’d failed miserably. His possessions and tools handed down by his great-grandfather had been sold these past three years. Any money he’d put aside had been spent on rent and supplementing income lost because of bad harvests and wrong decisions. And now his eldest son was a criminal, an assassin, and a marked man.
    Glancing at Isa, Juan thought, Her world has just crumbled. He knew that look on her face. He’d seen it once before, when her parents and sisters left Spain for Portugal. He’d given his solemn oath to her father on that day. “I will care for Isa. She’ll never go hungry or want for anything,” he’d said with the blustering pride of a young pup. Look what he’d done to her … to all of them.
    Finally, Juan stared at David, who was brave enough to return his gaze. “Don’t ask your mother, brother, or me for forgiveness. You’ll have to ask God for that favour.”
    “I won’t ask. I prayed it wouldn’t be necessary to tell you what I did …”
    “Well, you did tell us, and now we are party to a terrible secret.”
    “I had to get the child out of Sagrat, Papa.”
    Isa said meekly, “He did save the little girl, at great risk to himself.”
    “Does that wash away the sin of murder?” Juan asked her.
    “No, of course not, but David would be dead now had he disobeyed the duke.”
    “You can’t know that. Anyway, better David be dead than alive with the stain of murder on his hands!” Juan sneered.
    “Juan Sanz, don’t you dare wish your son dead!” Isa spat at him.
    “I didn’t mean it, my love … My apologies, David.” Ashamed of his words, Juan squeezed Isa’s hand, and then looked tearfully at David. “So what are we supposed to do with the child? We have no home to hide her in. No food to feed her with. We have nothing! We’ll have to seek shelter and beg for alms in Sagrat. Do you expect us to take her with us?”
                  David hung his head. “No, of course I don’t. It was never my intention to leave her with you for any length of time. I was going to ask you to look after her until I returned in a day or two. She can’t go back to Sagrat, but I have to be back at the castle and in my barracks before my watch begins.”
    “What about us? What should we do – sit here until we freeze or starve to death?” Juan snapped.
    “I’ll keep you safe. I’m a militiaman. The duke will provide you with a house. He has to.”
    “That tick on a donkey’s back won’t do anything for us!” Juan shouted, scorning the idea. “The man has no morals. His heart is a sewer, and he has piss for blood! Why did he order you to kill? Did he see badness in you?”
    “I don’t know,” said David.
    “Juan, how can you say that about your own son? He hasn’t a bad bone in his body!” Isa berated him.
    Juan said. “Isa, I can barely bring myself to look at him. The sight of him makes me feel sick to my stomach.”
    “Papa, please …”
    Juan ignored David. “It galls me to say it, but the real villain is the duke. He ordered the killings and then threatened our family, and that