rumbling belly that led us right to this closet you’re hiding in.”
Azerick pondered his options a moment then sheathed his knife. The man sounded honest enough and the odds were not exactly in his favor regardless. If they turned on him, he only hoped he could count on their underestimating enough that he could break free of them.
The nervous boy slowly walked towards the small group with his hand still on the handle of his knife as a precaution. However, they parted ranks and made way for him to leave the tiny room unmolested. He followed the big man into the large room he had originally entered a few hours earlier.
There were a couple of men, two women, and three children already sitting in the room as he and the three men entered it; about a dozen people in all. The large, bearded man bade him to sit down near the wall and took up a seat next to him. He then offered him the piece of bread and a cup of beans as he had promised a moment ago. Azerick mumbled a brief thanks to the man and quickly devoured the proffered meal. As he finished off his breakfast, using the bread to swipe the inside of the tin cup clean, the man spoke again.
“I guess I’ll start the introductions now that there’s a little something other than air and empty space in your belly. My name’s Jon Locke,” he said, and then pointed around the room introducing everyone else in turn. “That’s my wife, Margaret, my oldest boy, Patrick and my younger boy, William. That’s Maggy over there with her little girl, Beth and her man, Steven. Ryan is out foraging.” He continued introducing the others around the room then he looked pointed pointedly at Azerick when he had made the last of the introductions.
Margaret was a comely woman with auburn hair. Patrick looked to be maybe two years older than Azerick and William about two years younger. Maggy was a tiny woman with dark brown hair and a severe look. Her daughter, Beth, had light brown hair and was perhaps four or five years old. Maggy’s husband had dirty blond hair and was whipcord lean.
“I’m Azerick, and I thank you for your hospitality.”
“I think ya got it right when ya called him a lost prince, Jon. Just listen to the pretty way he talks!” one of the men crowed, eliciting a round of soft laughs form the group.
Several people in the shabby room got a good chuckle out of Steven’s remark but Jon quickly spoke up for him.
“Don’t you mind him none, like I said, it don’t matter where you came from it’s where you’re at that matters. You can tell us your story if you’ve a mind too whenever you’re ready. You still look rather tired out. Why don’t you go back and get some sleep? A couple of us will stay here and keep watch over you while the rest of us go take care of some business,” Jon suggested.
Azerick was still exhausted from all the activities of the last twenty-four hours as well as the stress and pain of his newest heartbreaking loss. So he excused himself, thanked them all again for their kindness, and went back to sleep in his closet.
It was late afternoon by the time Azerick once again awoke to the sounds of people talking and milling about the abandoned tannery. He left the tiny room that served as his sleeping chamber and joined the others in the main room where he had met them much earlier in the day. Jon hailed him and called him over. Several others gave him a short greeting as he entered the room.
“Just about everyone is back from their forays,” Jon informed him as he took a seat on the floor. “We always meet back here or wherever we’re camped at the time. We divide everything up equally amongst us from whatever we’re able to scrounge up, whether it’s food, clothes, coin, or whatever else of use or value we come up with.” Jon looked at him seriously and continued.
“I’ve talked it over with the group while you slept, and if you want, and if you can abide by our rules, then I’d invite you to stick with us for as long as you
Azerick pondered his options a moment then sheathed his knife. The man sounded honest enough and the odds were not exactly in his favor regardless. If they turned on him, he only hoped he could count on their underestimating enough that he could break free of them.
The nervous boy slowly walked towards the small group with his hand still on the handle of his knife as a precaution. However, they parted ranks and made way for him to leave the tiny room unmolested. He followed the big man into the large room he had originally entered a few hours earlier.
There were a couple of men, two women, and three children already sitting in the room as he and the three men entered it; about a dozen people in all. The large, bearded man bade him to sit down near the wall and took up a seat next to him. He then offered him the piece of bread and a cup of beans as he had promised a moment ago. Azerick mumbled a brief thanks to the man and quickly devoured the proffered meal. As he finished off his breakfast, using the bread to swipe the inside of the tin cup clean, the man spoke again.
“I guess I’ll start the introductions now that there’s a little something other than air and empty space in your belly. My name’s Jon Locke,” he said, and then pointed around the room introducing everyone else in turn. “That’s my wife, Margaret, my oldest boy, Patrick and my younger boy, William. That’s Maggy over there with her little girl, Beth and her man, Steven. Ryan is out foraging.” He continued introducing the others around the room then he looked pointed pointedly at Azerick when he had made the last of the introductions.
Margaret was a comely woman with auburn hair. Patrick looked to be maybe two years older than Azerick and William about two years younger. Maggy was a tiny woman with dark brown hair and a severe look. Her daughter, Beth, had light brown hair and was perhaps four or five years old. Maggy’s husband had dirty blond hair and was whipcord lean.
“I’m Azerick, and I thank you for your hospitality.”
“I think ya got it right when ya called him a lost prince, Jon. Just listen to the pretty way he talks!” one of the men crowed, eliciting a round of soft laughs form the group.
Several people in the shabby room got a good chuckle out of Steven’s remark but Jon quickly spoke up for him.
“Don’t you mind him none, like I said, it don’t matter where you came from it’s where you’re at that matters. You can tell us your story if you’ve a mind too whenever you’re ready. You still look rather tired out. Why don’t you go back and get some sleep? A couple of us will stay here and keep watch over you while the rest of us go take care of some business,” Jon suggested.
Azerick was still exhausted from all the activities of the last twenty-four hours as well as the stress and pain of his newest heartbreaking loss. So he excused himself, thanked them all again for their kindness, and went back to sleep in his closet.
It was late afternoon by the time Azerick once again awoke to the sounds of people talking and milling about the abandoned tannery. He left the tiny room that served as his sleeping chamber and joined the others in the main room where he had met them much earlier in the day. Jon hailed him and called him over. Several others gave him a short greeting as he entered the room.
“Just about everyone is back from their forays,” Jon informed him as he took a seat on the floor. “We always meet back here or wherever we’re camped at the time. We divide everything up equally amongst us from whatever we’re able to scrounge up, whether it’s food, clothes, coin, or whatever else of use or value we come up with.” Jon looked at him seriously and continued.
“I’ve talked it over with the group while you slept, and if you want, and if you can abide by our rules, then I’d invite you to stick with us for as long as you
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