They put me in a stall. A STALL. As if I were a horse. The paddock was tiny and I had to deal with curbing the urge to eat my companions. Let’s not do that again.
I almost smile, yet the weight in my heart won’t allow it. But warmth blossoms for this wonderful friend of mine. I know she’s trying to cheer me.
I look deep in my heart, and try to bury the part of me that feels such pain. I attempt to hide it from Ran even as I wave at the people gawking from the streets.
Don’t. Her single whispered word is filled with pain. Don’t you dare hide from me. I love them, too.
It’s not until then that I realize how much she’s hurting, too. Not all the pain in my heart is my own.
She trots down the street with extra emotional vigor. I hear a yell, and a boy, no older than my brother, steps out in front of us.
He looks up with wide, fearful eyes and a yell that’s lost in the deep snorting growl of Ran. She rears up and thrusts her torso sideways so as not to land on the boy, coming close to throwing me. I grab her mane and hold on to the shy, but only just.
“Gotcha!” A big, burly woman with bloodshot eyes grabs the boy in a viselike grip. The boy cries out and tries to get away, but the woman backhands him. My heart pleads against this injustice.
I slide from Ran and sneak my knife out. It pricks the woman’s fatty side and she freezes.
“What has the boy done?” I ask in an almost jovial voice that hides a deep-masked anger.
She cranes her neck around to get a glimpse of me. Her eyes widen. “My Lord. He’s my employee. I paid a handsome penny to his parents to use the whelp, but he tries my patience by running away.”
“Release him. How much did you pay for the boy?”
She does as I asked. The boy looks back at me with eyes devoid of emotion. It tears at my heartstrings to see such a look in one so young. But, a small spark invades his gaze when he looks to Ran.
She is quite the sight. Beauty and lithe grace with a flowing white mane reaching her knees.
“I paid thirty shillings, My Lord,” the woman says, wringing her hands and glaring at the boy.
I think quickly. “I need a hand for helping with my steed. I will give forty shillings for the boy. With the stipulation you shall never come near him again.”
“But... But. He’s not for sale!”
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“Mmm. But he is. Or do you wish me to bring my good friend Sir Hans and see what he thinks of how you’re treating the boy?”
I’m not sure if it’ll work, but the woman takes a step back. “You’re him.”
“Hmm?” I ask distractedly as I pull the boy over. I look him up and down in concern, certain there are other wounds beneath his calm exterior.
“You’re Sir Ri,” the woman all but whispers.
I look up at her. “Oh, yes. I see my reputation precedes me.”
She takes another step back. “Have the boy for free, Sir, just don’t send the Timber Wolf after me.”
Interesting concept. Wonder how they linked Sir Ri to the Timber Wolf of the city. Ran chuffs loudly behind me.
The big woman takes off before I get the chance to say a word. She sure can move faster than I figured. “Well. That was interesting.”
I look down at the boy. I smile at his wide-eyed glance up at Ran. “Would you like to ride her?”
“Troth? You ain’t just gonna take me back to me parents?”
I shake my head. “I will take you wherever you wish to go. If you wish to come with me and help, you are welcome to. Just know that I live a very dangerous life, and you might end up being hurt.” I can’t allow him in my life unless he knows the truth. At least some of it.
“Anythin’ is better than Mistress Hawson. Please let me come with ya. I’ll do anythin’ ya ask.” His eyes beg me.
“Alright. I have a run to make, so I’m going to drop you by somewhere I know you’ll be safe for a bit. Is that ok?”
His shoulders droop as he nods.
“No, I’m not leaving you. I’ll come back, ok? It’s just... this trip will be too dangerous.”
He looks up with flashing eyes. “I can take care o’ meself!”
I hold up my hands. “Do you know how to wield a blade or shoot a bow?”
He looks like he wants to say something, but then shakes his head, shoulders drooping again.
I squeeze his shoulder. "If someday my life is less crazy, I would allow you to be a squire."
He looks up and the spark of life I saw earlier turns into a raging flame of excitement. “For troth? Ye ain’t just pullin’ me long?”
"For now, I don't have time for training you, but if you're willing, I know someone who will take you in and give you a home. But, just realize you'll need to earn your keep and be honorable. I won't have you sullying my name." I give him a stern glare, and he immediately bows.
"Course not, sir knight! I'll be everything ye need and show ye havin' me is easier than not. I'll make everythin' easier," he says, bowing again and looking like a chicken pecking grains.
I nod, a smile overtaking my face. "I'll see if I can have someone teach you the art of knighthood and the bow and arrow. And of course, the sword.” I wink at him. “But my horse can be an ornery cuss. You’ll have to excuse her manners.”
Ran snorts and pushes me into a water trough lining one of the stores.
“Hey,” I shout and sputter, spitting out rancid water.
She snickers as the boy laughs. “See? What’d I tell you? Ornery.”
I can’t help but smile myself, though. I get up, thankful for the doublet that hides the bindings on my chest.
“Alright, let’s get you to Miss Jenny’s home.”
A goat bleats, coming beside the trough and tripping over its hooves. "Oh, that be Janice. She's well-behaved." The boy puffs his chest out in pride, gathering the tiny goat in his arms.
The absolutely adorable black and white goat who can't weigh more than ten pounds has long, basset hound like ears and chews on a bright pink slipper the boy snatches from her mouth. He puts it behind his back and smiles as the baby goat bleats a challenge to the boy stealing her snack.
I sigh. How'd I end up buying a boy and a kid?
I'll have to pawn them off on Jenny. Maybe with this little guy around, she can turn her mothering to overfeeding him instead of me. He's underweight and needs fattening up, unlike me. I could now stand to lose a few pounds.
I nod, a happy smile on my face. I know Momma would be proud. And Jack would laugh his head off. Jill... I hope she's holding up ok.