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Chapter 15: Martha

“Good morning Martha, how is it today?”

Martha looked up from the book she was quietly reading to return the greeting, “Morning Sandra. I’m honestly fine. It barely hurts.”

Sandra giggled, “Better safe than sorry, Kain wouldn’t be too happy if he woke up to you limping around.”

She sat in the wooden chair next to Marta’s bed. The chair was placed by Martha’s feet, allowing Sandra to quickly examine it with ease. She unraveled the cloth around her ankle and felt around, taking note of Martha’s reaction to certain probing. It seemed she was being honest. The swelling was down and there wasn’t much noticeable discomfort. That being said, Martha was a tough one. She could very easily be feigning. Sandra applied some ointment and rewrapped it.

“See?”

“Well. Everything seems to have healed, but I’ll tell Mark to look at it again before we go visit Kain.” Sandra moved the chair back.

“You guys worry about me too much, Kain’s been asleep for a whole week now.”

Martha, while appreciating the care, did not enjoy being pampered so much. She had not been allowed to do work of any kind for the past seven days. Sandra and Mark wouldn’t allow it, even if it didn’t require movement. She hated it. She spent every day laying in bed, left with nothing to do but think. None of those thoughts were good. She feared for her son, in more ways than one. Even though Mark and the healer Maleek brought over both confirmed he was alive, she was still incredibly worried. Comas were so uncommon for humans they didn’t even have a word for them. Martha couldn’t understand why her baby wouldn’t open his eyes.

On the upside, their house had not been one of the casualties of the bandit’s attempted raid. While the house was small and didn’t contain anything particularly valuable, the money they had collected was hidden in the several holes dug into the ground, she had worked hard to buy that house. She was incredibly grateful that it survived the fires. Beyond the fact that finding a new house would be incredibly difficult, that house had so much history for their little family. When she moved to Bruyn, she didn’t have a coin to her name. She slept in a tent for three years, occasionally sleeping in taverns when she could afford to, before she was able to buy that house. It was much smaller back then. There were no bedrooms, there was only a small kitchen and a decent size living room. Decent sized meaning that it could fit a single mattress and a couch snugly. Martha cried herself to sleep the day she was officially handed the deed.

She had worked many jobs over those three years, some barely provided enough for her to eat well. Before the town started getting a real grip on the food market in the area, there was a serious lack of farmers. It was far more profitable to work in the mines or as a soldier for one of the barons. The baron of Bruyn himself owned another town to the south west with a rather profitable mine. He actively took able bodied men away from Bruyn to further his profits there. As such, apart from the families that owned the farms, most of the workers on them were women. Martha toiled there for two years. In her free time she worked several odd jobs. Bartending, washing clothes, babysitting, anything she could do that would make a few more coins. In doing those side jobs she stumbled upon a talent she never knew she had, tailoring.

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There was only two tailors in town at the time. The ratio of work to workers was way too much for them. Martha, seeing that they paid quite a bit more than her main farming job, used a few chunks of her spare time to learn how to be a tailor. After learning the basics and earning the trust of the owner of the shop, they hired her full time. Being no stranger to heavy work loads, she dove right into the work. As the only tailors in town, they did everything from the thin overalls the farmers used to the silk gowns the burgeoning upper class used. It offered Martha a wealth of experience. Experience she absorbed. After a few years of success, the shop had expanded. With more staff, the owner of the shop started delegating the work more. With a rival tailor opening up, quality control grew in importance. Martha had been given the green light to work solely on the products they sold to the wealthy. She had proven her skill and dedication to the craft.

Over time, with her occupation settled and money less tight, she commissioned for her little home to be expanded. Now, many years down the line, she no longer worked at the shop. She was a private tailor, working by commission. While it paid decently, Kain’s school fees largely counteracted it. There was still a bit of profit and if she wanted to she could live a slightly more luxurious lifestyle, but that money was being saved for when Kain moved up to the fensir level. The fees for that level were astronomical. That being said, it shouldn’t be hard for a professional to find a decent job that paid well. Schools took full advantage of that.

All things considered, Kain should have qualified for a full scholarship. In fact, he overqualified for one. Sadly his meteoric rise worked against him again. As soon as his mother gave the impression that she could pay, the school made sure to not spend a bit on Kain’s education. Anything that could be used as ammunition against their institution had to be avoided. Martha ultimately didn’t mind. She wasn’t going to use the money for much anyway. The more money one had to spend, the more problems. She was far more comfortable saving it all for Kain’s future.

Sandra stood up and put her hands on her hips, “You’re the one that worries too much. He’ll be fine, even the healer said so.”

Martha looked down at the book in her hands, “Still…”

“Still nothing. You know they’re still looking for him? They’re almost fanatical.”

A large contingent of the townsfolk had started seeing Kain as more than just a very powerful malsir. They were starting to take his nickname, ‘God’s Disciple’, quite literally. They scoured the streets in search of him, looking for any clues they could find. They managed to uncover the fact that Martha was his mother. Fortunately, with Martha resting with Sandra and Mark, they didn’t manage to track her down. Mrs. Fidel, the woman that Kain protected alongside his mother, was instead tracked down and bombarded with questions. She didn’t know anything and was still reeling from the shock of almost losing her children so she didn’t handle it too well. Her husband was forced to call some guards to help shoo the fanatics away. They even questioned Sandra at a point, but she was so far removed from the situation in their eyes that they quickly bought her story of ignorance.

“It might even be better for his to sleep for a little while longer”

Martha lightly slapped Sandra’s thigh, “Stop it!”

“I’m just saying, you don’t want to get involved with a crowd like that. I can’t imagine what they’d do if the actually saw Kain.” She took a step towards the door, “I need to run to the market quickly. Riley’s still upstairs, if you need anything give her a shout. I’ll be back in a bit with breakfast.”

“Okay. Thank you Sandra.” Martha looked up at Sandra, a genuine, if a bit sad, smile on her face.

“Now you stop that.” Sandra smiled back, “Just focus on resting. Think of this as a little vacation after all these years.”

They both giggled.