Esra Greyborn

The boy who answered the door wasn’t what I expected to see. He was only a few years older than the smallest child I had grabbed in the alley, the one who had gotten away. I would guess it made him about ten or eleven years old, but even for that age, he was thin. Sunken cheeks and the lay of his clothes over his body told me how down on their luck the family was even more than the degraded house they lived in.

Worse than the impoverished conditions, this child was blind.

It reassured me I had made the right choice tracking the little one here. He was sure quick on his feet, and I liked that impish ferocity he showed when he nearly bit my thumb off. My hand would still be bleeding if I hadn’t wrapped it before I trailed after him. All it had taken was a few silver coins to the right people, and here I was. 

“Hello,” I greeted the child, my head nodding respectfully to him more out of habit than anything. It wasn’t like he could see me do it. “Are your parents home? I need to speak with them for a moment about your younger brother.”

The boy’s hand tightened on the wood of the door, and his brows furrowed in concern, but overall his expression remained polite. “My father is resting and I do not wish to disturb him. Is there something I can help you with?” he asked.

 I sensed no lies from him, but I also couldn’t imagine telling anyone but their parents what I had decided. “I really must insist,” I said, knowing he was only trying to protect his little brother.

The boy closed his eyes and nodded his head before slowly pushing the door open all the way. “Very well. Please come inside. I can put some tea on.”

As he turned to allow me entry, I got the first good look at what was inside. The space was sparse, with very little in terms of furniture. There was a table with one chair, a wooden stool, and two woven baskets turned upside down in place of the rest of the chair set. Behind them, along the wall, were neat stacks of dried grasses of various sizes and half-made projects I assumed they sold to help with coin. Most of the household items looked to be handmade. They were roughly done, but usable. The only items that seemed remotely luxurious were the hand-stuffed cushions patched in several places. The family had placed the cushions around the hearth where my host currently slept.

 He had a worn, patched blanket pulled up to his shoulders, hiding most of his body from view. I could tell he was on the taller side, but little else. It was a wonder that the place wasn’t a mess if he slept through most of the day instead of putting food on the table.

The edges of my lips curved down, assuming that the man was a passed out drunk to be asleep this early, but I didn’t see any bottles of alcohol. It wasn’t as if this family could afford much of that anyway to keep up with a drunk's needs. Unless that was the reason they were nearly starving. But that, I told myself, is assuming too much. I had no evidence to support my suspicions. 

With a closer look, I saw a red-stained handkerchief clutched in his hand, resting on his chest. Shame rose in me after jumping to conclusions and labeling him a drunk. The poor man was suffering from the lung rot that had plagued the southwest in recent years and if it was this far along, there was little even a healer could do but ease a bit of the discomfort. He would have a few years at most and then his children would be alone. Looking around, I saw no sign of a wife. 

The blind boy went to his father and gently shook him awake. From where I stood, I could just barely make out the words. “Papa,” he said, “we have a guest. Wake up.” The old man woke with a start, only to cough a few times into the cloth he had kept in his hand before his son helped him sit up. “She wishes to speak to you about Rueln,” the boy explained before sitting down next to his father on the floor. 

There was a moment of surprise when the man focused on me, then he attempted an awkward bow in his seat. “My Lady, how can I help you?”

I smiled and shook my head. Despite my finery, I was far from a lady, but the thought amused me. I merely had more gold to spend on myself than most. “I am no lady of any noble house,” I reassured him. “There is no need for bowing or formalities. I’m as common-blooded as you are.” He looked unconvinced. “My name is Esra Greyborn. May I have a seat?”

He nodded, gesturing to a spare cushion for me to sit. “Yes. Yes, of course. I apologize for my rudeness. Please have a seat.” I nodded politely and moved to seat myself, folding my legs gracefully beneath me. Only when I was comfortable did he introduce himself. “I am Griph Layheart.”

“It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance,” I replied, then glanced towards his son. 

Taking my curiosity for more than what it was, Griph gestured to the boy. “This is Eidke, my eldest son. I apologize I have nothing to serve you, but my daughter is still at work and my youngest is—” He paused and looked around with a frown. “Where is Rueln?”

“Outside,” Eidke explained. “If there isn’t any wood, he’s probably cutting some.”

“Ah,” Griph murmured, his brows knitting with concern for a moment before he focused on me once more. “You said you wished to speak about Rueln? Has my boy troubled you?”

Thinking about the bite under my bandaged hand, I almost smiled. “No. In fact, I came here to ask if I could take the boy on as an apprentice.” Both Eidke and his father gave me stunned expressions. Thinking their silence might be hesitant, I hurriedly continued, “It would be fair pay for him. I give you my word that he will have a roof, clothes, food, an education, and anything else he may need. Of course, as my apprentice, I will train him until he is sixteen.”

“That's quite the offer,” Griph started, only for all of our attention to be stolen when logs fell onto the hard wooden porch with a loud crash. The back screen flew open to reveal a familiar, dirty little boy glaring at me. 

“Get out!” Rueln yelled, his hands clenched into fists at his side. “I don’t want to be your apprentice! I don’t want to leave! You can’t make me!” For a moment, I thought I saw the glimmer of tears in his eyes before he dashed through the house and out the front door. He was gone as quickly as he appeared, leaving me in awkward silence with his family. 

This was a wonderful start.