Carefully but quickly, Arthur began crawling backward.
He did not yet understand exactly what this meant.
But he knew that if anyone ever learned what he had seen, losing a hand would seem a blessing beyond measure.
He needed to run.
He needed to forget.
Immediately.
“Sorry…” Arthur mumbled as he bumped into a passerby.
He had only just escaped the Red Keep after a night of wandering through hidden passages and enduring strange visions.
His head ached from lack of sleep.
The night’s shocks, endless wandering, and the strange symbols that had eventually begun appearing above people’s heads had nearly broken him.
At last he had found an exit hidden in a niche behind a statue and emerged into one of the castle’s inner courtyards.
Luck had favored him.
Blending into a crowd of servants heading into the city at dawn, the boy had almost made it back to his miserable shelter in Flea Bottom.
Only a few steps remained.
As always, life had other plans.
“Watch where you’re going next time, lad.”
The voice was good-natured but firm.
Arthur looked up.
His eyes immediately caught the strange symbols floating above the man he had collided with.
The words seemed to burn in the air.
Name: Humphrey Waters
Position: Lieutenant of the City Watch
Level: ###
The man’s face seemed familiar.
In an instant, Arthur understood.
This was the very guardsman who had chased him.
The man had already recognized him.
“You…” the guardsman began, his face twisting with surprise and disbelief.
Arthur did not wait.
He darted away like a cornered rat.
A powerful hand instantly seized his wrist.
“Let go!” Arthur shouted, struggling desperately.
The difference in strength was overwhelming.
He was tall for his age and quick on his feet, but life in an orphanage did not build the weight or muscle needed to overcome a grown man.
The guardsman studied him carefully.
For a moment, something like confusion flickered in his eyes.
“Sorry, lad,” he said again, gripping Arthur’s thin wrist so tightly that his fingers began to go numb.
“Theft’s a crime.
You’ll have to answer for it.”
Humphrey narrowed his eyes.
“But how did you survive?” he asked slowly, almost speaking to himself.
“That channel emptied straight into the sea.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Arthur shouted, tugging frantically against the iron grip.
His heart pounded like a blacksmith’s hammer.
He knows.
For some reason Arthur became convinced the man knew about his presence in the Red Keep.
“I didn’t do anything!
Nothing!”
“You were lucky,” the guardsman grunted, his beard twitching slightly.
“Or perhaps unlucky.”
He leaned closer, lowering his voice.
“Now tell me.
Where’s the purse?”
“What purse?” Arthur’s eyes widened in despair.
“I only took a loaf!” he cried.
Thoughts raced through his head.
How could he convince the man he was telling the truth?
“I don’t have any purse!”
“The baker says otherwise.” Humphrey raised an eyebrow.
His gaze sharpened, as though he meant to crack the boy open through sheer scrutiny.
“Listen.
I’m in a good mood today.
One offer.
Return what you stole, and I’ll let you go.
Yesterday, by all rights, you were born anew.
If the Seven gave you another chance, so will I.”
“But I don’t have any purse…” Arthur’s voice broke into a hoarse whisper.
His knees gave way.
Only the guardsman’s grip kept him upright.
Tears streamed down his filthy cheeks.
“I only took a loaf.”
“Ah…
so the purse sank, did it?” Humphrey said, shaking his head, as though he had convinced himself of the answer.
Regret lingered in his voice.
It sounded as though he wanted to believe the boy, yet duty compelled him otherwise.
“That’s unfortunate.”
Arthur clenched his teeth to keep from sobbing aloud.
He could not understand why this was happening.
He truly had taken only a loaf.
The first theft of his life.
Why was this happening to him?
What had he done to the baker to deserve such a lie?
The injustice stirred an unexpected surge of anger.
“Yes, I took the loaf!” Arthur declared, straightening despite himself.
The firmness in his own voice surprised him.
“I took it because I hadn’t eaten in two days.
And I’ll accept punishment for that.
But I never stole any purse.
I am not a thief.”
He met the guardsman’s gaze directly.
Humphrey was taken aback by the fierce conviction in the boy’s words.
Arthur was nothing like the petty thieves the lieutenant of the City Watch had dealt with throughout his years of service.
That certainty planted a seed of doubt.
“But you did steal the loaf,” Humphrey said after a long silence.
“Very well.
His word against yours.
If you’re telling the truth, you’ll get off with a whipping.
Until then, you’ll have to spend some time in a cell.”
“I am telling the truth!”
“I’ve heard that already,” Humphrey replied with a grimace.
The entire situation displeased him.
He had long since grown accustomed to injustice, compromises of conscience, and all the other unpleasant realities that accompanied service among the Gold Cloaks.
Or at least he had learned when to look the other way.
Otherwise, he would never have risen so far.
Yet the bastard who had climbed from the gutters still clung to certain convictions he could not fully explain, even to himself.
That was why he silently promised to investigate the matter properly and speak with the baker again.
There was something about this boy that made him want to believe him.
“And what’s your name, ‘not a thief’?”
He led the filthy barefoot boy along by the arm, loosening his grip slightly without releasing it altogether.
Humphrey had already seen how fast the youngster could run.
“Arthur,” the boy sniffed, wiping at the streaks on his face with his free hand.
“Arthur Snow.”
“Interesting,” Humphrey grunted.
His own surname was Waters.
Another bastard.
“And where are you from, Arthur Snow?
Quite a long way from the North, isn’t it?
Any family?”
“I’m an orphan.
From the Sept of the Seven in Flea Bottom.”
Arthur lowered his gaze.
Then he glanced around, looking away from the glowing words hovering above passersby before turning back to the guardsman.
“Where are we going?”
“Strange that you don’t know.” Arthur’s ignorance of places familiar to most young pickpockets only deepened Humphrey’s doubts about the baker’s story.
“The Red Keep.”
“No…” Arthur whispered.
“Anywhere but there.”
“Sorry, lad,” the man said again, tightening his grip.
“I’m not throwing you in a pit with drunkards and brawlers.
They’ll feed you there, at least.
Weren’t you hungry?”
“Yes, but…”
Arthur faltered.
He could hardly explain that he had only just escaped from the place after breaking who knew how many laws.
Not to mention what he had witnessed.
“But I didn’t steal any purse!
Why am I being taken there?”
“I’ll find out,” Humphrey answered.
He genuinely intended to get to the bottom of the matter.
“If you’re telling the truth, you’ll spend a day there while I speak with the baker.
Nothing will happen to you.
Other than a whipping, perhaps.
If you’re lying, then that’s another matter.”
“I am telling the truth,” Arthur muttered darkly.
Then, after a pause, he asked:
“They really feed people there?”
His stomach answered with a loud growl.
“They do,” Humphrey replied.
“King Robert ordered it…”
A/N:
While everyone else is waiting for updates, com / Captain_Lag (remove the spaces)