Chito realised the consequences of his utterance too late. He looked at his wife. Merimna’s smile had disappeared. It had been replaced by a very solemn look.

“Merimna, I-” he started.

“I had suspected for a long time,” said his wife, interrupting him calmly. “But somehow, I always gave you the benefit of the doubt.” The children continued tussling with one another to gain entry to the sack, ignorant of the drama that was unfolding above their heads.

“Merimna...I...I’m sorry...” said Chito. “I only went there a few times…”

Merimna almost flinched, as if this information was a blow rather than some sort of consolation to her. “Don’t try to justify yourself to me.” She looked for a moment as if she might cry, but she held the tears back. Zantheus and company receded into the background as she spoke, all save for Anthē, who, feeling all too prominent, wished the earth would swallow her up. “You’ve done me a great wrong, Chito. All I ever was to you was faithful and true. And this is what I get in return?”

The silence stretched out between them, only broken by the continuing sounds of children playing and competing for food.

Then, miraculously, Merimna spoke again. “Maybe I’ll forgive you, one day, in time. Maybe I already had. But you’d better not go back to that place ever again, or you’ll be out. Out. You hear me? Out on the streets.”

Chito could only hang his head in shame. The bag of food had been emptied. Around him his young charges sat or stood munching on nearly expired fruit and looking up at him, wondering at how the deliverer of such sweet delights could look so miserable. “I’m sorry, Merimna,” he said again.

“You listen to me,” said Merimna. “This man is called Zantheus and...well, you know this woman already...” Anthē felt sick. “They’re here to pick up the little dumb boy you brought back yesterday. His name’s Tromo. And don’t think I don’t realise where you found him. Now, they’ve got a long journey ahead of them, so here’s what you’re going to do. You’re going to go with them and open up your shop, and you’re going to give them three of your finest cloaks, one each, for travelling. Then you’re going to march straight back here and help me prepare dinner, and you can get to work on making this up to me.” Her tone changed all of a sudden as she addressed Tromo. “Come here, lad,” she beckoned. Tromo came up to her and she have him a hug. “Look after that one,” she said to Zantheus. “Love others, that’s all we need to do, and that’s what he does. He may not be able to yak on about it, but he does it –better than any child I’ve ever seen!”

“Lead the way, Chito,” said Zantheus, accepting the offer of the cloaks, and with a final wave from Tromo the four of them stepped into the cool evening air.

Zantheus was glad to be out of that stuffy, chaotic room. He was in a bad mood. Discipline was required, he was thinking. ‘Love others, that’s all we need to do’… What a load of nonsense. Those children needed discipline, not to be mollycoddled with ‘love’ and allowed to run free and do whatever they wanted. Those children...no, he did not want to think about them anymore. He put them out of his mind as they followed Chito in silence.

Chito retained his distance, walking a little way in front of them in silence, though Zantheus and Anthē did not mind this. They did not especially desire to speak with their guide, Anthē out of guilt and Zantheus out of disgust at him. He took them back on to the main road, where they weaved conspicuously in and out of the clusters of townsfolk. Then they turned off down another side street on which Chito’s shop was to be found. It was just like all the other shops on the street, run down and dusty, with a set of double doors to come in by and no windows to speak of.

Chito took his key and unlocked the doors to reveal a forest of coats, tunics, socks, pantaloons, robes, shirts, undergarments, vests, shawls, dresses and, of course, cloaks. He wandered off into the rows of clothes, looking for what to give to his guests. “Wow,” said Anthē. Tromo’s instinct was to run and play amongst the different rows of fabric, but he stayed where he was. Zantheus, on the other hand, was unimpressed. These were commoners’ clothes, garish and unmagnificent compared to the splendour of his armour.

Once he had found what he was looking for, Chito was forced to speak. “Zantheus, was it? Come here so I can get you measured up.”

“That is alright,” said Zantheus. “I have no need of a cloak myself.”

“Oh, don’t be daft, Zantheus!” Anthē rebuked him. “It’s a free cloak! You might as well take it. I’m sure there’ll be times on the way to Qereth when it’s freezing cold.”

Zantheus found himself irritated by the woman once again, feeling as though he would have to comply with her in order to allow them to make progress.

“It’s a special material,” encouraged Chito. “Light as anything, but incredibly insulating. You can wear it over your armour.”

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Reluctantly, Zantheus agreed to be measured up for a cloak. This really was very tiresome. Two days he had tarried in this town now. He was restless. He wanted to get going. Chito picked out something in Zantheus’s size.

“Here you go, this should fit you nicely.” And with that, Zantheus was cloaked. “Now, shall we get one for –Tromo did you say his name was?”

“Yes,” said Zantheus.

“Come over here, please, Tromo.”

The tailor moved down the rack of cloaks as Tromo shuffled over to him. In no time he was sporting his own miniature version of Zantheus’s dark grey cloak. He wrapped it around himself proudly.

Chito’s expression was cautious. “Um, Anthē? Your turn.”

Anthē marched over and put her arm out to be measured. Chito wrapped the tape measure around her awkwardly, unable to look her in the eye. Just as he was finishing, Anthē broke the silence.

“Why’d you do it, Chito?”

Despite himself, Zantheus listened out for the answer.

Chito ruffled through the cloaks until he found one that was the right size to fit Anthē. He sighed. “I don’t know. I’m weak, Anthē. I’m a weak man.”

“Merimna didn’t deserve it.”

“Of course she didn’t. Do you think I don’t know that? Of course she didn’t deserve it. And I don’t deserve her. One day, she’ll be able to forgive me though, just like she said. She’s an amazing woman.”

Anthē took her cloak. “An amazing woman who you take for granted,” she said. “You don’t deserve her forgiveness.”

The four of them waited for a moment.

At last, Chito said, “I know.”

He walked them back to the front of the shop and they stepped out into the now darkening streets, three of them clad in long, sweeping, grey cloaks. “I should be getting back to my wife,” said Chito.

“Thank you for the cloaks,” said Zantheus.

“Goodbye.” Chito turned and left them. If they had been listening more carefully, Anthē and Zantheus would have noticed the slightest hint of resentment in his voice. As it was, only Tromo spotted it. But he wouldn’t tell.

“Well, let’s get moving too,” said Anthē impatiently. She was glad to be rid of the tailor and wanted to be rid of this town too, as soon as possible.

Back at the inn, Luma had a message to deliver to Anthē. He handed her a piece of paper. “Oh, I see you’ve acquired some extra luggage,” he joked. “Hello there, little fellow.” Tromo waved hello.

“He doesn’t speak,” said Anthē.

“Oh, that’s a shame,” said Luma. “Dinner’s being served by the way, Anthē. You can go through.”

“Thanks,” said Anthē. “And thanks for the message.”

Zantheus wanted to know what was in the message for Anthē, but he did not want to give this away by asking about it. In the dining room only two of the other tables had people seated at them. At one sat the same group of three men from lunch. At another sat the man in black from earlier, his dog sat faithfully at his side as before. It growled at Tromo. During the meal he looked over at them several times, but he did not approach them today. Leukos was nowhere to be seen. Without saying it, both Anthe and Zantheus decided not to mention his name or to go and see if he wanted any dinner.

Dinner turned out to be sausage and mashed potatoes. They ate in hungry silence, catching snippets of the businessmen’s hushed conversation. Zantheus ate at the same time as managing to look phemonenally bored. Anthē ate almost as if he was being punished, her head bowed, her eyes down on his food, methodically dissecting the meal. The little boy they had just picked up took a very long time to eat, alternating between examining chunks of his food for no apparent reason and staring at the black dog. Anthē caught his eye and smiled at him. He smiled back. What an odd group of people she was going to be travelling with: A grumpy knight, a mysterious recluse and now this mute orphan boy. How had she wound up with such a strange assortment of companions, she wondered? Though she supposed she was a strange enough companion herself...

When it was time to retire for the evening and they went to check on him, Leukos once again left them no options as to their sleeping arrangements, though this time he did condescend to wish them a “Goodnight,” from behind his locked door. Once in their room, Anthē said “Tromo can sleep next to me.”

Zantheus was not yet too tired to express his disapproval at this idea. “I do not think that is wise. It is not proper for a young boy to sleep in the same bed as a...” He almost said the word ‘harlot’, but in the end he decided against it. Although no words came out of the boy, he knew for certain that words went in. “…woman,” he finished lamely.

Anthē was outraged. “But it’s perfectly innocent! He’s just a little boy, he should sleep in a bed!”

“So he should, but not with you in it too,” said Zantheus. “It is improper.”

“If you’re so worried about him, why were you so ready to abandon him at the orphanage?”

Not wanting to be involved in this argument, Tromo, who was quite worn out from a very emotional day, had climbed into the bed and hid under the covers. He gave a toot on his ocarina. It sounded like a wounded bird.

Zantheus gave in. “Fine, have it your way,” he said. But Anthē was not going to let him get away with that.

“No, have it your way!” she said. “I’ll sleep on the floorboards, like you!” She lay down where she was, making her statement, on one side of the bed.

Zantheus drew the curtains, crossed to the other side of the bed and lay down there. They had put themselves in a ridiculous situation. It was only about eight o’clock. Neither of them was ready yet to go to sleep, so they lay in the semi-darkness fuming at one another invisibly. It took them a long time to drop off. In any event, Tromo beat both of them to it.