A light rain fell as Shel slogged through the muddy streets of the Builders District back toward home. It was late in the afternoon and Shel passed many wagons moving goods from the Central District for night storage. A few vendors yelled their goods as servants returned to their homes, most still dressed in their liveries in mostly blacks and whites, all stained from the walk through the mud. Shel made good time as he walked briskly toward his home, avoiding the wagons and the pedestrians who fought for limited space along the muddy streets.

By the time Shel arrived home, he was exhausted. It had been a long day. Running into Tommy and her littlelings started him off on the wrong foot, and it only got worse with the excitement at the Central Square. While it was a day more exciting than most, it did not explain the deep-muscle exhastion he felt, as if a large weight now rested on his neck and shoulders, pulling him down closer to the ground. After changing clothing at the door and wiping off most of the large chunks of mud on his legs, Shel sat down on his sleeping pallet to warm his hands over the glowing stove. He thought about visiting the Pretty Beak tavern to make sure that Neal made it home safe after the Empress’s man surrounded the children at the sweet bun stands, but the thought of standing up and walking even the short journey to the Pretty Beak tavern was too daunting. Knowing Neal, he expected he made it back safely. Even the governor’s guards were wary about how they dealt with children, especially with so many children wandering about town.

Samuel stood on the other side of the stove stirring a black pot, which rested on one of the stove’s two-iron heating lips. Samuel was a small man and he had a knack for all but vanishing in the room. There were times when Shel was sure he was alone in the house, only to find, a few hours later, Samuel sitting quietly in a corner reading or mending clothing or quietly sitting and staring at whatever it was he stared during his quiet times. Samuel was a relaxed man, and Shel loved him for it. While Audrel always seemed to need to move or do something or drink something, Samuel did not share his daughter’s restlessness.

Shel held out his hands and rotated them in front of the stove to warm them. The cold winter air was beginning to blow in, which meant the end of the rainy season, but also meant that the bitter colds of winters was soon to visit, with snow not too far behind, which would replace the muddy streets with frozen snow-covered streets. Shel looked across the stove at Samuel, who stood stirring the pot and humming tunelessly to himself. On the left side of Samuel’s face near his eye, a large wine mark seemed to explode from his eyes, as if his creator had splashed his eye with red wine and tattooed its pattern into his skin. His eyes were dark and spotted with lighter brown flakes, which sparkled when the fire light struck them. Samuel dressed in simple brown clothing, never anything too fancy, but always conservative and respectful. A smile hovered on his lips and he always looked like he was thinking of a joke, which he was on the verge of sharing.

“What are you cooking in the pot?” Shel asked Samuel. Shel knew Samuel would not have started a conversation if Shel had remained quiet. While Samuel was a great talker, he never felt a need to fill silence with words. He was content to stew in his own thoughts until someone else decided to share what they were thinking or wanted to know something Samuel might help with.

“It’s a lamb stew seasoned with the last of the summer potatoes and yams, and stewed in water and day-old wine from the tavern. I added a bit of butter, but don’t tell your mother. She doesn’t like me wasting good butter in stews, she says she can’t taste it unless the butter is whole, and why eat butter if you can’t taste it. That woman never did understand what it meant to cook food.”

Shel smiled with Samuel. His mother was a complicated eater. She liked her foods separate. If she had her way, each ingredient would be separated on her plate—the chunk of lamb, the potatoes, the slab of butter—and she would eat from the piles, a little from each. Shel had watched her do this when she cooked meals, which was rare. She would eat a little of each, explaining her process to Shel and Samuel, and then, especially at the end, she would explain the order, saving, for example, the last bite of lamb for after she finished her potatoes but before she ate the butter, so whichever her favorite ingredient was would end up in her mouth the longest. It was a complicated process, and Shel loved to hear about it.

When Shel did not respond, Samuel looked down and seemingly disappeared in the small hut. “How do you do that? You disappear into your work and I almost forget you’re there. It’s like you have a special power or something. I know you’re standing there and stirring that pot, but for the life of me, you don’t seem to be there.”

“There’s nothing magical about me, Shel. I spent almost my entire life in the service at the Church.”

“You worked for the Church?” Shel had never thought of what Samuel had done before spending his days taking care of the house and Shel. Clearly, Samuel must have worked before, it was only that Shel had never thought about that possibility, as if Samuel could not have lived until after Shel and Audrel were around to be taken care of.

“Oh, I worked for the Church for many years. I was a house servant in their hall in Varis. The hall is gone now, but when I started almost twenties years ago, the hall was the largest building in Varis. Varis was much smaller then. Like I told you many times before, Varis was the real winner of the wars. When the Empress brought the nations together with her sword, nations that had never traded came together under her rule and new trade routes opened up, creating crossroads such as Varis that were sleepy small towns. At the time before the Empress’s wars, it was the Church that drove all the business and local affairs. It was only when Varis became a destination on the trade route that the Empress had the Church’s hall burnt down and its influence in the town weakened.”

“But you always talk so badly about the Church. I thought you hated them, didn’t believe in what they preached, told me they were a bunch of charlatans. How can you have worked for them and not believed in what they preached?”

“At the time, the Church never questioned belief. It was the center of town, and while it wasn’t assumed that everyone in town had bought what they had to sell, enough people had, and the Church went about its business and the town went about its business. When I moved with your grandmother to Varis, it only made sense to go work for the Church. It was a different time at the Church. They didn’t require obedience or belief for service, they only required you showed up each day and wore their livery. They provided housing and food for both me and your grandmother, and good pay. I gladly did what they asked and made a good living in their ranks. It wasn’t until later that I learned the cost of that service.”

“What was the cost?”

Samuel looked toward the door as if expecting to see Audrel walk through it. It was still early, however, and she would be working the tables at the Pretty Beak tavern until many hours after dark. Shel waited for Samuel to continue, but he did not say anything. He stirred the pot without looking down, his eyes distant, and the wine stain on the side of his eye appearing to dance in the flames of the stove.

“You were talking about the cost, grandfather. What was the cost? What happened to the Church? Why aren’t they still around?”

Samuel shook his head as if to clear it of whatever demons inhabited it. “It was nothing, Shel. Nothing you need to worry about. Just stay clear of them and all will be well. The one good thing I can say about them, though, is that if it wasn’t for them, I wouldn’t know how to make all of these stews.” Samuel smiled, and Shel knew that with the smile, any chance of getting more information about the Church was gone. When Samuel did not want to talk about something, he did not talk about it, and once he changed a subject, it was usually a good indication that he did not want to talk about it.

They sat in silence for the next hour. Shel stared at the flames in the stove, and Samuel fed the stove with wood from a pile stacked at the foot of the beds, away from the wet walls. Samuel scooped the stew out onto two plates, and they ate in silence. The lamb was tender and the potatoes drunk deeply the flavor of the wine and vegetables. Shel finished two platefuls before lying down on the pallet. Even with the food in his belly and the warmth of the stove, Shel still felt something weighing him down.

The door slammed open and Audrel stood in the rain, her large face glowing red in the stove’s fire. Her eyes searched the room, passing over Samuel, who sat sewing some of Shel’s ripped breaches, and settled on Shel.

“Did you go to the Central Square today?” Audrel yelled, her hands moving to her hips and her head leaning toward Shel. Shel opened his eyes and found it difficult to sit up to respond to Audrel. He finally managed to sit up. The rain sheeted off Audrel’s head, dripping over her eyes and down and over her wide nose.

“Mother, come in. It’s raining out there. Wait, shouldn’t you still be working at the Pretty Beak? Why are you home so early?” Shel talked smoother than he had expected. He knew his attempt to change the subject would not work with Audrel, but he did it to buy time, to figure his next move.

“We’re not talking about me, Shel. We’re talking about you and what you were doing in the Central Square. Were you looking for the Empress’s soldier after I specifically told you not to?”

“Neal and I were buying sweet buns. We never even went to the square.” Shel tiptoed around the truth and found great pleasure in finding its edges. Deception, Audrel had taught him, was different from untruth. Shel almost felt bad for using the disciplines Audrel had taught him against her.

“How many times have I explained to you how dangerous the Empress is? You can’t seem to remember this. Her soldiers are no better than she is, and yet you risk everything to go see them.”

“Didn’t you hear me?” Shel said. “I never said anything about the Empress.”

Audrel was at Shel’s side before he saw her enter the house. One moment she was standing in the doorway, rain sheeting off of her, and the next she had a knee across Shel’s arms, pinning him to his sleeping pallet, and slapped him across his face. She hit him hard, and his neck twisted with the force. The sting was immediate and he cried out. Audrel lifted her hand for another stroke. Shel smelled the alcohol on her breath and splashed across her apron. Her words had sounded fine and he had not realized how drunk she was when she stood in the rain.

“I ran into your friend Neal in the Pretty Beak. He had a black eye from one of the Empress’s soldiers. He said you had been with him, Shel. He said you had run off but that you had been there, and you had been there to visit the Empress’s soldier.” Audrel swung her arm again and slapped Shel against his other cheek. Shel squirmed under Audrel’s knee, but could not free himself. Her leg was strong and his arms were trapped. The additional weight he still seemed to carry did not help matters.

“That’s enough,” Samuel said. Shel saw him approach Audrel from behind.

“This is between me and the boy, father. If you don’t want to watch, then leave. But do not interfere. Shel needs to understand how important this is.”

“You’re hurting him,” Samuel said.

“I have not even begun to hurt him yet,” Audrel said.

Word Count: 2,166

Words remaining: 32,276

Feeling: Yeah, I started off with a summation. I needed to reorient myself and get some words out. I’m exhausted again. I’m very busy at work, and when I get home, the last thing I want to do is spend another couple of hours in front of the computer. Of course, I do and will. I’m looking forward to the weekend. The last half came faster, but I felt a bit like I was spinning my wheels. I’m still not convinced this scene is important, but it is allowing me to flesh out Samuel and Audrel a bit more, which should help me develop this part of the story and set some things up. Either way, I got my words.