The Longest Lament

Chapter VII

Corwin eyed the man with all the appraising caution of a hunter stalking his prey.

His quick eyes noted dangling jewelry and an expensive cut of clothing. His well trained ears heard a distinct jangle which spoke well of his chances for loose change. Better still, the man wore a wedding band on his finger. Corwin found that married men, especially those with children, made ideal targets.    

He made his move as the man approached the alley where Corwin waited. Always best if there were no witnesses.

Keeping his steps unhurried and what he imagined to be businesslike, Corwin stepped from the mouth of the alley toward the street, directly into the wealthy man's path.

The man let out an exclamation of surprise as they collided, but only bounced back a step, unharmed.

Corwin, in a neat bit of acting, was not so lucky. He rebounded off the side of the man and feigned an unfortunate fall onto his back, sending the covered bundle he was carrying careening through the air. It landed with a splash in a rather convenient puddle.

Corwin was soon back on his feet, and back to the man's side. "Oh! I'm so sorry, sir. I was in such a rush I didn't notice you! Are you alright?" Corwin made sure his voice carried just the right touch of respectful concern.   

"Oh, I'm quite fine, my boy. But it doesn't look like your dinner can say the same," the man pointed toward the puddle, where Corwin’s basket lay upside down and quite thoroughly ruined. A few crumbs of bread could be seen floating, the rest seemed to have vanished into the murky water.    

Corwin's eyes widened, and a well-honed look of shock marred his childish features. "Oh no! Ma sent me to fetch supper, since she's still sick from the baby, and now I've gone and ruined it. She'll beat me bloody for sure!"

Corwin picked up the basket from where it lay in the muddy water and overturned it. When nothing but a clump of mud fell out, he collapsed to his knees in sobs, tears flowing down his face.

He watched the man through the cracks of dirty fingers, and from the look of sympathy on the man's face, he knew he had him.  

"Now now, lad, there's no need for any of that," he said, moving closer to give the boy an awkward pat on the back and helping him from the ground. "It was an honest mistake, and I won't see your back flayed and a new mother go hungry for the likes of that." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a handful of coins, offering it to Corwin. "Here, you just take yourself back to the market and replace what you lost."   

Corwin looked up with red rimmed eyes, stifling his tears, and eyed the coins with feigned reluctance. "But sir, I couldn't. Ma said it isn't right to take money from strangers, even nice ones."   

"Nonsense. It was me you ran into, after all, so I'm part to blame. It's the least I can do." He added another coin to the pile he held in his hand. "And maybe get yourself something extra, too. You remind me a bit of my own lad, and he's never missed a chance for a sweet."

The mention of sweets was more than enough to sway any child, and Corwin took the coins from the man's hand. The man smiled. "Off with you, then. Don't leave your mother waiting."

"Thank you, sir!" Corwin said, and dashed off in the direction of the market, counting the coins with practiced fingers, not even bothering to look down.