Derek moved through the marketplace as quietly as he could. He'd learned from bitter experience not to draw undue attention to himself. When he reached the booth where the town baker displayed his breads, he scanned the shelves quickly for a loaf that was just the right size to make a meal for himself and his mother. Today he was in luck. The baker's shop was not busy, so no one was likely to notice him, and there were several suitable loaves to choose from. Derek picked up a nearby loaf, quickly paid the baker, and made his way back toward the south gate of the city.

A few minutes later Derek approached the gate. Just as he had done every day for years, he ducked into a small alcove in the wall of the city for a moment, so he could observe the gate traffic. He waited until the guards appeared to be particularly busy inspecting the contents of a large cart. Then he started through the gate, desperately trying not to attract any attention. Unfortunately, he hadn't noticed the guard standing on the other side of the cart.

"You there. Where do you think you're going in such a hurry this morning?"

Derek stopped and turned toward the guard, being careful to look down, hoping he would not be recognized.

This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author's work.

"I was just buying this bread for my mother. I'm going home now."

Derek had answered the question as meekly as he could.

"Wait a minute. I know you. You're that traitor's kid, aren't you?"

Derek flinched at the guards reference to his "traitorous" father. This was exactly the sort of thing he'd been hoping to avoid. Whenever the guards noticed him, they always called him names and said terrible things about his father. At least this guard hadn't called him "Traitor's Blood" or "Son of the Heretic" the way some did. Derek decided he'd had enough anyway.

Against his better judgment, he screwed up his courage and said, "You keep saying that. But no one will tell me what my father did that was so bad. I'm really tired of being called names all the time and not knowing why. So tell me. What did my father do?"

Derek shifted his weight slightly, in case he needed to run away very quickly, but he wasn't prepared for the guard's response.

The guard's face grew fearful as he barked "That's enough. You'd best keep your mouth shut or you might end up disappearing the same way your father did."

The guard drew his sword and waved it menacingly.

"Now move along."

Derek, feeling vaguely unnerved by the unexpected behavior of the guard, did as he was told, and moved on without another word.