“I will bet three shillings,” was the first words William heard when he awoke, staggered upright and gasped for air. Flashbacks bombarded his head of Garret, the shadows and Death. He snapped his attention to himself, patting his arms, chest, and legs and back, pressing for pain and inspecting his wounds. Though covered with bandages, the wounds felt healed and itching, not the usual after pain and soreness he’d expected.

“Looks like the nugget-head’s awake,” said a man with a golden hoop through his left ear and a curly short brown mane for hair. He was the same man who played the viola in the town performance earlier.

“Raise you then,” said the other man with a bandana sitting opposite the table. The man who played the lute tossed money next to a pile of cards and smiled testily at his opponent.

In a plain dress, the girl who danced with the tambourine entered the room carrying a basin of water in her arms. Her black curly long hair swayed to the sides, creating shadowed silhouettes against the light from the fireplace. “Do not tease him Paolo. He has yet to recover his wounds.” She sat on a chair right next to William, who lay on a bench, and placed the basin on the floor.

“Who are you? Where am I?” asked William, looking around a plain room with only tables and benches and large chests near the door outside.

“I am Isabelle,” said the girl with a mixed accent, hinting a bit of Spanish-esque and something else. “That tall one with the bandana on his head is Mikael, my brother. And that loud obnoxious one is Paolo, my cousin.”

“She meant loud, obnoxious and devilishly handsome,” corrected Paolo, dropping his card on the table and collecting all the coins that had stacked up in the middle.

“Are you cheating?” asked Mikael to Paolo. “You know I hate cheaters.”

“I do not cheat my dear cousin. I am simply the best on card games in the whole of Egypt.” He waved his hand joyfully as if celebrating his title as the best card player.

Mikael slammed his fist down the table. “Again. And this time, I deal.” His hands collected the cards and started shuffling them.

“Your death cousin,” he smiled mischievously.

Isabelle sighed. “Do not mind them. When they play cards, they tend to be overly dramatic about it.” She immersed a damp cloth inside the basin of water and reached for William’s arm but he snapped it back.

Fear roused in his eyes, gripping his arms tightly and looking at Isabelle accusingly.

“Do not worry. I am here to clean you. I will do nothing to hurt you,” she said softly, stretching her hand towards him.

William looked at the hand then back at her dark brown eyes. He sensed something different about her, the same way he sensed something different about his father compared to other people. With a nod of her head, he placed his arm at Isabelle’s palm and tried to ease the tension in his body.

“That wasn’t so bad was it?” She patted his arm with the cloth, cleansing the parts where it wasn’t covered.

He shook his head.

As she continued above his arm and the next, she said, “You are in the town’s inn. We found you lying in an alley on our way here. Do you have a name?”

“William,” he croaked.

“Do you have a house? A mother or a father?”

He nodded. “A father.”

“If you have a father and a house, then that means you are not a beggar. If you are not a beggar, then what were you doing in a dark alley, pounded and looking like a dead dog?”

In the alley? I was attacked by shadows and Death saved me. Was that all just a dream? “I was robbed and I fought back,” he lied.

“A nugget-head, in a doll’s body challenging a thief,” joked Paolo. “We never get one of those these days.”

“Paolo, stop,” said Isabelle.

“Is that yours?” Mikael pointed a chin towards a sack at the corner of the room.

“Yes sir,” answered William quickly. “I purchased it at the market.”

“Weird taste you have there. Wonder what you’ll do with mandrake roots and dragonfly wings,” he stated. “Are you sure you were robbed?”

“Yes sir.”

“Hmmm,” he sounded. “No one was around when we saw you. Nobody would have noticed you if it not for my sister’s keen eyes.”

Isabelle placed the cloth on the basin and stood up. “That is that. I will be cooking now, you may continue washing yourself if you want.” She stretched her arms and walked towards the other door.

“Cooking?” asked William.

“For supper,” she answered. “I make the best lamb stew.”

His eyes bawled.

“Is something wrong nugget-head?” asked Paolo. “You don’t like lamb stew very much? I can say I feel the same way when Isabelle’s making it.”

“No stew for you then,” grumbled Isabelle.

“Oh come on dear cousin. Don’t be so sensitive.”

William dragged himself from the bench and dressed with his tunic and shoes. “I’m sorry, but I have to go. It is very late and my father will be angry. Thank you for your help. I am most grateful. I will find a way to repay you. Thank you.” He crossed the room and rushed out the door.

“See what your cooking’s effect on men are,” joked Paolo.

Isabelle sent dagger eyes on him.

“Gin,” screamed Mikael. “Finally!” His hands grabbed the stacked pennies and hugged them into his side.