laneys.info Beware of Yankees, drunks, and loose women.

After supper, Alexander returned to a lonely dorm. He quietly strolled to his bunk and unlaced his boots, then pulled them off and prepared for a bath. As he headed to the entrance, he took a left and walked through the long wash closet to the large tub that awaited him. After hanging the towel on the peg to his right within the spartan bathing room, he reached into the round tub and touched the grey stone within.

"Aza'mayim," he said, then stood back and watched the tub fill with steaming water which he soon climbed in and sunk beneath. As he lathered up, the door exploded open and he spun to see Nicholas and Dominic rush in, faces alive with excitement.

"What are you doing," he yelled as he sat within the clouded water.

"You're not going to believe this," Nicholas began. "We met your mother in the Dark Stallion, near the western gate."

His heart stopped as he stared at them dumbly while they both patted him on the shoulders. "What?"

"Yes," Dominic smiled. "She's got your blue eyes and brown hair, when we mentioned where we were from, she asked about you. She said that she hoped that you're alright and she apologized that she didn't get to church very much."

"You need to make sure you don't get into trouble tomorrow, she's waiting to meet you," Nicholas revealed as Alexander only half heard what they said.

He smiled as he rose and headed towards the door, soap still clinging to his body as Dominic quickly grabbed his towel and wrapped him in it. "What's her name?" he asked, tears streaming and heart racing.

"Charlotte," Nicholas said. "She's been working at the tavern most of her life, seventeen years I think."

"I told you guys to relax," Martin stated as he walked in from the stairwell. "If Sergeant Donegil finds out, he won't let Alexander leave the compound until he's in his seventies. You guys know the rules."

"Father Gaiven always said that it was important to know where we come from," Nicholas defended as they all walked to Alexander's bed while he dried off.

* * *

After a night of sleep deprivation, Alexander marched to the tavern with his heart in his throat as they all were given tasks from Sir Donegil.

"Alexander, you, Martin and Amayis need to help cleaning up in the main room," he motioned to the gutted building that had apparently taken a direct hit from a trebuchet. At least one. He quickly grabbed a length of rope and headed to the front door and searched the rubble and broken furniture for his mother, knowing that she had to be here somewhere. The previous day's work had cleared the kitchen and pantry along with the upper floor and the piles of wood and stone lay in the side and rear of the establishment. They tied ropes onto the larger pieces of debris along the outside of the pile, then handed the ropes to two men that linked the load to their horses and pulled.

As the day wore on, he kept his eyes open until finally catching sight of a raven haired woman in the nearest doorway at the head of the stairs. As she turned, he noticed the blue eyes and healthy body as she descended and soon caught his eye, then smiled as she quickened her steps. Emotion welled as he moved to her and she swept him into her arms.

"I can't believe this," she said happily. "They listen after all, don't they," she backed, taking his face into her hands as he cried. "You are a handsome devil. Definitely one of mine," she laughed, then hugged him again.

He couldn't believe this feeling, he knew that he had finally come home after all and he didn't want to let her go. Finally, she moved to the side as the horses yanked another load into the street, pulling him with her. "So, how have you been?"

"Fine," he nodded. "You?"

"Staying busy, as always," she smiled, blue eyes glistening. "I'm sure glad that your friends were sent here, otherwise I may never have been able to see you."

"Why don't you come to church with us? I could see you every sabbath."

Her eyes sank, "That place might fall down around our ears if I walked in, son. I don't think the priest wants that."

He chuckled, "You know it wouldn't".

Charlotte smiled. "I know," she said, then glanced beyond him, towards the front of the building. He followed her eyes to see Sir Donegil glance at him and his body chilled.

"I have to get back to work," he glanced back to his mother. "Perhaps afterwards, during dinner we can talk?"

She nodded, "Of course".

Alexander quickly moved back to the ropes as the templar glared at him, but didn't say anything. He didn't have to.

After they finished for the day, the group assembled in the main room as his mother and other women cooked and served them. He worked his way into the kitchen out of sight of the rest as Charlotte brought him a steaming bowl of stew and a tankard of water, then sat across from him.

"Who is my father," he asked between bites.

Her eyes sank to his bowl as fingers fidgeted. "I'm not totally sure but, I have had an affair with the chamberlain about the same time you were born. You actually have his build," she smiled.

Alexander nodded, wondering if the noble had visited with the duke during the dinner at the cathedral. "What does he look like?"

"Tall, handsome. Your nose and brow," she described as a thin finger coursed along his features, then retreated. "His name's Sir Michael, you may have seen him with the duchess and her daughters at mass before. He used to go."

"I'm just glad that you're alright," he said, trying to finish dinner before he was left at the tavern.

"Me too. You going to help tomorrow?"

"Probably," he hoped so anyway. "If not, come to church on sabbath, otherwise I won't get to see you until I'm nineteen and become a knight's templar."

Chuckling, her eyes rose. "It's so hard to get used to that, my son is going to be a templar. The girls won't believe me when I tell them." Her soft, mature features softened as he finished the water. "I know my parents would be proud that you'll carry on our name this way," she sighed, then rose and took his bowl and cup, then moved to the wash basin. As she turned and wiped her hands on her apron, she motioned out into the main room.

Alexander rose to see the sergeant strolling among the others, then turn to see him in the kitchen. "Mister Alexander, muster outside and wait for the rest to join you."

"Yes, sir," he eyed her for a moment and smiled, then headed out into the street as the evening sun cast golden hues onto the upper buildings that rose with the contour of the hillside that the city rested on, up to the cathedral and the palace not far away.

"Young man," Donegil called from behind him. As he turned, his joy quickly returned to professionalism. "I'm not happy with the company that you're keeping. You know what she does for a living?"

His brow furrowed.

"Stay away from the likes of her from now on, understood?"

"She's my mother," he stated without thought and almost defensively.

His eyes went wide, taken aback. "What? Who told you that?"

"She did, sir."

Quietly, the sergeant turned to eye the wench as she cleaned up after the other boys, joined by two others as the pages filtered out into the street with them. Nothing more was said as he marched them back to the dormitory, reaching it by sundown. He held onto everything about her as they dismissed into the stables, raising his eyes to the thick clouds that lazily glided overhead.

"Thank you."