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Sparks
005: A splash of something to warm you

005: A splash of something to warm you

Jak woke to see the light of morning poking through the hole in the alcove roof. He could still feel the calming warmth of a spark keeping him warm. He sat up straight, yawning, then stood before bowing his head in prayer towards the shrine.

“Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! For keeping me warm. I have to go now, but I’ll be back later. I’m hungry. I’ll make sure I have enough wood for my fire, too.”

He felt the sparks’ warmth pulse once, then fade from him and took it as a signal of understanding.

Leaving the alcove, he headed out into the tunnel towards its entrance by the river. He carefully snuck out of the tunnel. Merchants and dock workers had already begun their morning work, crunching through the snow, talking and laughing as they worked. Jak didn’t want his hidey-hole found.

It took him a moment of clambering to get up into the yard, but there was no one near enough to pay him mind, so it went smoothly. Once above, he scurried through the city street, trying to lose himself in the hustle and bustle of the city’s frosty morning.

As he walked, he noticed a foreign merchant, whose coin purse dangled. The merchant walked down the streets, distracted by the sights and sounds. Jak thought about trying to snatch it, considering how many weeks or months of money it contained, but resisted the urge. He hated stealing, although necessity had forced him to do so before. The penalty if the guard caught him scared him as well. For a street urchin like him, it’d be sure to be death by hanging. He’d already seen more than one acquaintance meet that end.

It took him about half an hour to reach his destination, The Busted Bard was one of the cities rougher taverns, it catered to mercenaries, sailors and all too often those looking for a fight but in the early morning it was quiet, it’s shutters firmly locked to keep out the cold morning air.

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Jak went to the back door and knocked gently, his fingers feeling too cold for a firmer knock. After a few moments, the door swung open, revealing Mrs Bucket, the proprietor of The Broken Bard. She was a woman who, if described generously, would be termed as portly and ample bosomed. Her clothes were, however, cut for the much more slender woman she had been 20 years previously.

Her gaze drifted downwards as if expecting a taller visitor than jack. Once she saw him though, her face lit up with joy, her remaining teeth on show as she smiled.

“Jak! I was so worried!” She pulled him up into a bear hug that left him struggling to breathe.

“Ugh!” was all he could manage in reply.

“When I saw how cold it was, I was scared something might've happened to you.” she said, putting him down carefully.

“Look, you know I can’t take you in. My husband, the old scrote, would moan to high heaven. But, if it ever gets that cold again, don’t be afraid to come knocking. I’ll make sure you’ve got a place by the fire, even if I have to take my rolling pin and remind that old... You know what, just knock, I’ll deal with the problems.”

“Thanks Mrs Bucket.”

“I expect you’ll be wanting feeding. I think I have some porridge left.”

Mrs Bucket left and came back a minute later with a bowl of porridge.

“Here you go, Jak, eat up.”

Jak devoured the contents of the bowl hungrily before returning the empty bowl and spoon. “Thanks Mrs Bucket.”

She nodded in approval of his appetite. “Wait there one minute, Jak. I’ve got an errand for you.”

She came back a minute later. “Here it’s a cold day. You’ll be wanting a splash of something to warm you.”

She held out a shot glass with a pale liquid in. Jak was still vague on the names of all the spirits but was happy enough to toss back the shot, feeling it warm him.

Mrs bucket took back the glass and handed him a note and a copper.

“Here Jak, I’ve been selling through meat like no tomorrow. Can you take this to old Mr Woodfield? You can keep the copper as payment.”

Jak looked at the copper. For delivering a note, most people would only pay a half copper at most. Mrs bucket had always been generous to him like that.

Jak nodded, “Thanks Mrs Bucket.” He desperately wanted to tell her about the spark, but held his tongue.

Jak sped off towards the butchers to give him his note.

He spent the day meeting his contacts and running errands, mostly delivering messages. By the end of the day he had 6 copper, which was enough for him to buy a cheap meal at the market and enough firewood to last the night.

I’m not going to be caught out again and run out of firewood. I can’t expect to be saved by a spark every time I need help.

Snow began to slowly fall just as night closed in and he headed back towards his alcove.