Closed [flashback]There but for the grace of Lhex (Gregory)

[Ealisaid]

70 Spring, 507 Ealisaid grunted softly as she tried to heft up the bucket of slop water that had been used to wash down the flags of the kitchen room of the tavern. The water was a disgusting, greasy grey – testament to the fact that her efforts at removing at least some of the layers of decades of grime encrusted on the floor had met with a modicum of success. The great pieces of stone were, however, far from clean – at least not by her standards. They certainly didn’t sparkle – they weren’t white, or hardly grey even. Their color reminded her of some nasty mold she’d found on a loaf of bread the day before. That had been easy enough to slice off, and the remainder of the loaf served up with the day’s fare. The flagstones were a different matter altogether. Her back, shoulders and biceps strained to lift the bucket. Her fourteen year old frame was slight and though her arms were already corded with lithe, long muscles from the daily grind of her jobs, still, the weight of the water was almost more than she could handle. Not in terms of a dead lift, with a rope handle that cut into her palm and fingers, and trying to keep it from slopping back all over the stones she had just scrubbed – not to mention her skirt, and apron. Her feet were bare, so at least her one pair of ragged, scuffed, second hand shoes were not at risk for a dousing. With both hands, she pulled mightily, cursing the cook for pouring the vessel so full – almost to the brim – and Ealisaid was certain the old witch had done so on purpose. Just as she had been the one to instigate the master suddenly taking a good, hard look at the floor that hadn’t seen a mop or brush since it was laid, and suddenly almost frothing at the mouth to know what that new scrap of a girl thought she was about, lazing around and expecting to be paid for doing naught? Ealisaid had seen the evil smirk on that ugly, wrinkled old face, as the cook nodded in agreement as the master ordered the girl to get to it, now! And she had leapt into action, for fear of losing this, her first paid position. Oh, she had been working since she had been old enough to walk, talk and hold a dust broom in her small hand, or fetch a scoop of flower or run a comb through her mother’s hair. At first, it had been at the slum that passed as a pleasure house, where her mother made enough to cover their room and board by working on her back, or her knees, whatever the customer desired. Ealisaid had avoided that same fate – narrowly – by being shoved into training as a dancer. But she had still been expected to work her fingers to the bone for the man who ran the place. When her mother had passed on, two years previously, Ealisaid had left, knowing full well that at her age, the coins she earned dancing were soon going to be supplemented by the other age old profession, if the owner had any say in things. Instead, she found a tavern that gave her a job, of sorts – as a dishwasher, in return for a place under the kitchen table to sleep at night and sharing the scraps off the patrons plates with the dogs. She was also “allowed” to dance, the owner at that establishment being a haggard looking woman who had once been quite pretty in her youth. Of course – wasn’t every woman’s story the same? She even taught Ealisaid a few more things. But when her husband tried to teach the young girl some other, very different kinds of moves, she left. Wandering about for a while, she eeked by earning a few coppers simply dancing on the streets, even though she had no music to accompany her whirling feet and arms. It did garner her the attention of a young man however – the kind who liked other men, though, so at least she was safe, or safer, in the regard. He had brought her to the place where she currently worked, and once again, the owner had hired her primarily for kitchen duties, but also because she was fairly pretty and danced well enough that he thought she’d earn him a few more coins each night. It was this that had raised the old cook’s hackles, and it was for this reason she tried her best to make Ealisaid’s life a misery. Every conceivable task and chore, no matter how menial or degrading, had been assigned the girl – even ones that were completely novel to the establishment, like washing the floor for example. To give her her due, the cook was quite good at her own trade, and highly valued by the owner, who knew the patrons came round more for the meat pies than for his watered down ale. So the woman was able to have her way, and she was sneaky about it too, so the stupid fool never even realized that he was being so adroitly manipulated. In any case, the bottom line was that Ealisaid earned every last copper of her meager wages with the sweat of her brow and the ache in her young muscles. But she was wise enough to know she must be patient, to endure, until some better prospect came along. She did not want to be living on the streets again. It had been far too scary. Slowly, the bucket lifted, an inch or two only, but that was enough, Carefully, Ealisaid took a step, and then another, willing the water not to slosh over the side, as she made her way painstakingly slowly towards the back door. Beyond that was only an ally – a place for the refuse of the various businesses about, as well as a way to get from one street to another, if one stepped carefully. In the bucket was only water – filthy though it was. Far worse was strewn about that ally, so her plan was to lug the bucket as far as the back step, and tip it over. The water might even render the foulness of the narrow byway one iota less nauseating. Having almost reached the door, she congratulated herself for having been smart enough to have opened it before trying to lift the bucket in the first place. Her eyes were glued on her destination, and in just a few more steps, she would be there. Reminding herself again about the bushel of apples that had been delivered earlier, and which had been left right inside the open door, she cautioned herself to take care not to spill any of the putrid contents thereupon.

[Gregory]

The drunk guy just kept talking and talking as he leaned on him. Slurring to him about where he lived. On one hand the drunk leaning on him made it all to easy for gregory to get his hands on the drunk's purse and untie it from his belt. The fact he was completely drunk meant he didn't even notice when he was fiddling with the strings. After a few chimes of trying and ignoring the half coherent directions of the drunk he managed to get the purse off him, just in time as they arrived at the place he was sleeping. He dropped him off. Ignoring the drunk ramblings and just got away from the guy as fast as he could. Before he noticed the fact that his purse was gone and his drunk mind came to the conclusion as to what happened. When he was a few streets away he opened up the purse to see what the spoils were. Scowling as he saw a few silvers and a copper miza in the purse. “Petch, I should have known that the drunk already wasted his money.” He still stuffed the miza's in his own purse. Might not buy him a meal now, but little bits eventually added up to being usefull. His growling stomach got him back to the task at hand, finding some food. He did remember there being a few taverns around here. Maybe he could dig through their trash or see if they had left a window open or something. He wandered into the back alley connecting a few business together and his jaw dropped to the ground when he saw that somebody left the backdoor of the tavern open. What moron did that in this city? He just hoped he was the first to get here and that the entire thing wasn't already ransaked by another thief. He hurried up towards the door and peeked inside. Nobody was there. He saw a bushel of apples sitting against the wall and he grinned. Jackpot. He walked inside and grabbed an apple off the bushel. Throwing the rest of the bushel over his shoulder for later. He looked around a bit for more things. Carefully peeking around doors and into other rooms. It didn't take long for him to stumble across an unattended kitchen. He took his chance and quickly stuffed whatever looked edible into his pockets and his mouth. A few sausages, loaves of bread a meat pie that smelled delicious. With his pockets, arms and his mouth filled with food he snuck back towards the back door. Hoping that nobody had closed it yet. Turns out it still was open. But the exit was blocked by a tall girl holding a heavy bucket. He swallowed the mouthful of sausage. He could have made a run for it. But he had seen some patrons sitting in the main room. No way he could run through there with his arms full with food and not get caught. Barging past the girl was something he didn't want to do either. He might lose some of his food. So he took the option of last resort. Bullshyking his way through the mess. “Thanks for leaving the door open.” He boasted with a large grin on his face. “Mind getting out of me way now? Don't want to get that mud water on me food.”

[Ealisaid]

… But in fact, the bushel of apples was not there! Ealisaid actually paused in her slow movements forward, frowning. It was just possible that the old cook had come along and put them in their proper place with the other food supplies. Possible, but not likely, for the old hag never did anything that she could force Ealisaid to do. The girl stood there a few moments, looking about, but not seeing the basket anywhere. The drag of the heavy bucket on her arms and hands was too much to keep her loitering about for long, though, and she had just taken another small scooting step forward, when she heard that voice. The unexpected sound startled her, and she twisted about – with quite the expected, though unwelcome, result. Water sloshed from the bucket, on the floor and on the bottom of her dress, and a bit on her bare feet. But her disgust at having any of that filth on her clothes and skin was shoved aside for the moment, overshadowed by first her alarm, and then her anger, at the sight of the boy behind her – and all that food he was carrying! Their food! Or at least, her master’s food – and he’d just waltzed right in and helped himself to whatever he could find, it looked like, given the amount of provender he had grasped in his arms, shoved into bulging pockets, and – from the looks of it – half chewed in his mouth! And it was very clear now where that basket of apples had got to! ”Wh-what do you think you’re doing?” she sputtered, so astonished by his boldness that she could hardly get a coherent word out. ”Put that food down! That’s not yours!” She was surprised, but not completely outraged, nor was she fearful. The boy looked to be a few years younger than herself, and though she wasn’t much of a one for fighting, she figured she could probably wrestle him to the floor if needed – not that she intended to do that. Her master’s food wasn’t that precious to her. Besides, there was something about his brashness that appealed to her sense of humor, and possibly struck a chord with her as well. Not too long ago, she’d have done just what he was doing, if she’d had the chance. Hunger and desperation make a kid take chances, in order to avoid exceptionally unpleasant alternatives. She knew that full well. She carefully set the bucket of nasty water down next to her, but did not move – still standing there, blocking his way. Hands on hips, she chided again, ”Did you need to take all of that! One apple wasn’t enough?” Her hands moved to cross over her chest as she fixed her face into stern lines. ”Put all that stuff down, and I’ll let you go without calling for the master.” Shaking her head, temporizing, she added, ”And I’ll let you take what’s in your pockets with you. Wouldn’t want that back now anyway.”

[Gregory]

The events that followed after he spoke up could have come straight out of a comedy. At least he found it funny enough to have a place in that kind of story. She dropped the bucket of water she was carrying and the muddy water splashed all over the floor and her dress. Soaking the hems and her bare feet. Gregory let out a loud laugh at her misfortune. Though that laugh quickly stopped when she told him to put the food back where h found it. He scowled at her. Grabbing an apple from the bushel he was holding, having to shift around the food he was holding a bit so he wouldn't drop anything and took a bite out of it. Giving the taller girl a look-over. She was skinny and didn't really look like a fighter. He had brawled with larger and stronger people then her. So he guessed he could throw her out of the way is she tried to stop him by force or something. But he would have to drop a bit of the food to knock her out of the way. She then continued to chide him. Yelling at him that the food wasn't his and even making a comment about him snatching a lot of food instead of just an apple. “You don't find an idiot to take advantage off every day. Better milk it for all you can.” He shot back, gesturing towards the open door. He just rolled his eyes when she tried to intimidate him. But he did think twice about the offer of her. On one had he would have to give some of his food up. But on the other hand. If he did give back the majority he could keep a small part and get off without any problem. He might even manage to filch some more if he played his cards right. If she was bluffing and planning to pull one over him, at least then he had his hands free to beat his way out of the mess. “Fine fine. I'll give some of it back. Doubt you want me to drop it in the water. Care showing me where I have to put it back.” Dropping it in the muddy water might have been fun to see the look on her face. But he just hated to waste food. He waited for her response.