“Where’s my mother?” This thought haunted Ribold day and night as he traveled the roads alone to Todt Stadt. He slept under trees and in ditches and stayed back even farther when he saw the church banners coming up the way. However the past two days had become much harder. He was bombarded by a constant drizzle of cold rain. He saw under a tree eating jerky when a strange voice shouted out scaring him.
“Boy where are you headed?”
Ribold nearly jumped out of his skin. Turning around was a stern man leading a group of pilgrims, his face looking like it had been carved of stone.
Ribold trembled in fear, A man… I’ve never met one in person before… If he’s leading pilgrims they could be looking for me! I have to lie just as mother said...
The stern man shifted his weight impatiently, “I asked you a question boy!”
“My! My mother said not to talk to strangers!” Ribold’s high pitched voice yelped.
The other men chortled and snickered.
“Where’s your mother now?”
“De-” Ribold hesitated and hoped it truly was a lie, “Dead.”
“So why’re the hell are ye out here?” said an ugly man, his face so twisted he seemed to be the son of those brother-sister unions he’d heard of.
“I’m headed to find my father’s folk in-” Ribold hesitated, wracking his cold tired brain for the minute details his mother had drilled into his head. “In Luckenwalde.”
“That lil shithole?! You’d be better off if you were jumped and eaten by bandits!” the ugly one shrieked in a mocking tone.
“Silence Dagmar! No point scaring the kid shitless. It’s obvious that he thinks we’re gonna eat him.”
Dagmar licked his crooked lips and smiled, “Well shall we?”
The stern leader ignored him, “Call me Arvid boy. You can travel with us if you’d like. We got a boy around your age. But you should know that Luckenwalde was hit by a plague a fortnight ago. Hard to say if they’re still alive.”
“It was my mother’s dying wish. I have to find my family.”
Dagmar chimed in, “You know necromancers are down that way. If you’re not careful you could end up lost in the Forest of the Dead. Those necromancers will cut out your heart just to revive you, and if they succeed they’ll make yah eat it.”
“My Mum was always sickly you see, so she told me if anything happened to go find my father and beg for boarding,” Ribold lied. There were many bastards around, children of foolish children or children of war unions as his mother called them. War unions were short lived and sometimes the daddy hurt the mommy and left. These stories were so common they’d be easy enough to believe.
“Awh a baastard aren’t yeh? Ain’t like I’n never seen them before. Fuckhell most of us are basterds meselves.” the Dagmar replied as Arvid nodded gravely.
“Who are you people?” Ribold asked ,thinking to himself, if they were bandits I’d probably already be dead so they can’t be so bad.
“We were caught up in a local scrap further north,” Arvid explained, “Got tired of it and decided to move south. We can sell ourselves into the service of the Sultan. They say he likes pale slaves.”
Dagmar chuckled and rubbed his hands in the cold humid air “Three squares and warmth? Sign me up. Better than serfin, starving, or getting butchered here! You know Arvid, if we bring the Sultan a boy he could be worth a lot more than us.”
“Shut up Dagmar. We’re going down there because we’ve nowhere left to go. The boy may have family so let him travel with us until we pass by- what was it again? Luckenwalde?”
“Yeah,” Ribold sputtered and coughed, he was getting sicker in the constant rain. Ribold forced himself to calm down long enough to answer, “Luckenwalde it was.”
Dagmar grew more and more irritated, “Arvid! If we’re not gonna sell him we shouldn’t take him! He can’t earn his keep now or ever! The last thing we need is him making the rest of us sick!”
“I’m not going to just leave him for dead Dagmar.”
“Like all the others?”
“They were probably already dead. This one can move and speak. He still has a chance.”
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“Well I’m not giving him my rations Arvid! Not a goddamned crumb!”
Arvid turned and called from behind towards a short pilgrim behind them, “Alfso! Come up here and meet your new friend!” Arvid turned back and asked, “What’s your name sickboy?”
“Ribold sir.”
“Ribold huh? Sounds even filthier than you look.” Arvid turned toward the short pilgrim trodding forward, “Alfso. This boy is Ribold. He’s sick. Take care of him if you can. Otherwise we’ll have to leave him.”
The pilgrim lowered his hood to get a better look and Ribold was stunned, at first look Ribold thought he was a girl, with short blond locks and a dainty manner.
“N-Nice to meet you Ribold,” Alfso said nervously.
“Uh… Likewise,” Ribold said before he doubled over in a coughing fit.
Alfso turned to Dagmar, “It’s ok. I’ll share my portion with him,” Alfso said warmly.
“It’s settled then, Ribold comes with us.” Arvid declared and pressed on.
Behind him Dagmar snickered, “But eat our rations and we’ll just have to eat you.”
“Load him in the cart!”
Ribold was carried by a massive hairy man who smelled of death and oil and tossed in like a sack of potatoes. Alfso climbed in after him and they felt the wagon move forward.
“Ow!” Ribold said as he started to cough again.
“Don’t mind Maklolm, I heard he’s been through a lot.” Alfso said sadly.
“I’ll remember that next time he tosses me.” Ribold said with a scraggly voice as his throat got more sore.
“So Ribold huh? Where’re you from?”
“Where?”
“You know… What town?”
Ribold’s mind raced for a lie, “Uh… White Lily.”
Alfso opened a map “Hmm. Don’t see a White Lily here. Are you sure?”
“Me and my mother lived alone… In a field of white lilies.”
“Oh? That sounds great!”
Ribold was terrified that his alibi wouldn’t stand too much scrutiny so he rasped playing up his own very real symptoms, “I’m sorry Alfso but can you let me rest?”
“Oh? Oh sure...” he said dejectedly. Minutes passed and Ribold started drifting to sleep, “You’re the first kid I’ve met since I lost everyone.” Ribold shifted but ignored him exhausted. Alfso continued, “Don’t speak. Just listen. I don’t get to talk to kids my own age and you don’t have to talk back. Feel free to ignore me and just fall asleep. But I...”
***
Ribold awoke to the sound of crackling fire. He pushed off an empty grain sack that Alfso had laid upon him as a blanket and slowly crawled out of the wagon. The travelers sat around a fire and Alfso was stirring a large pot. Ribold stumbled over towards the fire and sat down opposite of the pilgrims.
“How’re you feeling?” Arvid asked.
Ribold cleared his throat and spit in the fire, “Cold but better than before.”
“Sit by the fire awhile and try this kid’s soup. It works like a charm.”
From the forest the hairy man shouted “Hey! I’ve got some rabbits!” He emerged carrying wooden traps with multiple rabbits inside. “What do you say Alfso? Want to add some rabbit to that stew?”
“Sure!” Alfso beamed.
Taking one rabbit out of the cage by the scruff of its neck the hairy man said “You want to do this one yourself?”
Alfso shifted his weight nervously and stammered, “No... that’s ok. I’m not good at hurting bunnies.” For the first time Ribold had seen him Alfso looked upset.
“Why not, you’re a hunter aren’t ye? You’re the one who built the traps and cook em. Why not killit yerself? That’s what a man would do.”
“I… I don’t like hurting things!”
“You eat meat doncha? Isn’t it irresponsible of you to not dirty those pretty little hands of yours,” the hairy man jeered.
Alfso bit his lip in hesitation for a moment before firing back, “I make the food, you find and prepare the food. Otherwise go eat shit for all I care!”
A chorus of guffaws echoed around the fire and the hairy man stood humiliated. He stabbed the squirming animal and with one quick tug peeled its skin off. He tossed Alfso the meat and he caught it without hesitation. The boy quickly began to clean the meat and add vegetables he’d foraged or stole along with seasonings he’d previously scavenged from the forest and ground up in a mortar and pestle.
Ribold sat by the fire listening to these coarse men discuss their dreams of janitorial work in a sultan’s harem and watching Alfso work away into the night, serving portion after portion of rabbit stew. When it came to Ribold’s turn Alfso handed him a bowl. Inside the yellow broth was bits of asparagus, brussel sprouts, and yams. Ribold quickly fished out a rabbit leg and bit into slow boiled tender meat. It fell off the bone like a curtain unfastened to a rod. It wasn’t his mother’s lamb and greens but after a few days of eating nearly nothing but jerky and turnips it certainly competed with lamb and greens.
“So? How is it?” Alfso asked nervously.
“It’s good. It’s good.” Ribold replied with a leg bone poking out of his mouth.
“Are you sure? You don’t sound that enthused. You can be honest and I’ll find you something else. What are some things you like and I’ll keep an eye out at our next encampment.”
“Well… This is the best meal I’ve had all week.” Ribold said pulling out the bone and inspecting it for any trace of meat he could still salvage.
“I know you haven’t eaten much all week so I can’t take that as a compliment.”
“You’re a good cook Alfso and the meal is great. As for my favorite? My mother would make lamb and greens.”
“Lamb and greens?”
“Never heard of it.”
“We have fresh lamb steaks over baby leaves.”
“We should try it! But we don’t have any lamb. But as soon as we can get some I’ll try it! Do you remember any spices she might’ve used?”
“Turmeric, garlic, pepper, thyme, basil, she mixed and matched them a lot.”
“I bet cumin and rosemary would be great too. Let’s eat a lot of lamb together Ribold!”
“Sounds good to me,” Ribold lied. In the distance the trees were already dying and soon Ribold would have to leave them all behind. Ribold earnestly wanted to eat lots of Alfso’s dishes but family came first, his mother always taught him that.