On Quiet Feet

Martel could think of several things that Julia needed. First on that list would be a home above ground. While Martel did not have one of those available, the solution seemed simple enough. Weasel and his gang should have room; considering everything Martel had done for them, including inadvertently getting them the house where they now lived, he expected they would accept his request to let Julia live with them.

It might still be a hard sell though given her current state. Not just her clothes, ragged even by the standards of homeless children; Martel wondered how she would survive winter without freezing to death. Also, a life in the sewers left a mark that any nose would notice. But that could also be dealt with. It just required money. And Martel had spent his very last coins when buying the ingredients for the pain remedy he had made for Eleanor. Fortunately, he had a solution for that as well.

"Max, can I borrow some money?"

The mageknight looked up from his game of cards in the common room of the boys' tower. He gave a grunt and untied his purse, throwing it on the table. "Take what you need."

"Thanks!" Martel helped himself to several pieces of silver. If only every problem could be helped so easily.

Across the table, Maximilian's opponent looked at the novice. Putting down her cards, Eleanor adopted a suspicious expression. "Urgent need of money, and you have been taking food from the dining hall. What are you up to now?"

Of all the people in the Lyceum, being interrogated by Eleanor felt particularly galling. What was she doing, watching him like some inquisitor trying to catch him in the act? If she did not wish to be his friend, she had no right nor reason to ask him about his intentions or whereabouts. "I'm opening a tavern." As Maximilian gave a snort, the novice strode away.

~

In his eagerness to carry out his plans, Martel had left the castle and walked for fifteen minutes into the market district before he remembered his last shopping trip. For some days, it had felt like things were simmering down. The inquisitors had become a rare sight around the Lyceum, and mentions of maleficars had grown scarce. The anger towards magic had dissipated, or so Martel had thought until his encounter with the angry crowd, riled up just because he bought some herbs to make a simple concoction.

Stopping in his tracks, Martel looked around. Nobody seemed to pay him any heed. People moved around him at their own pace, having their own errands. Men and women, a few children, buying food, clothing, different items for their household, and so on. Everything seemed normal, but that had also been the case last time. It was impossible to tell when suddenly these people might become irate and turn on him. All he could do was try to be inconspicuous.

Taking a deep breath, as his eyes darted in every direction, Martel continued until he reached the next square where he might find the things he needed. Most importantly, a simple woollen dress that provided some warmth along with socks of the same material and leather sandals. Shoes or boots would have been better, but too expensive; he should have taken more money from Maximilian, but Martel had never bought most of these items before, and he had underestimated how costly everything would be. He also got soap, a small piece of washing cloth, and a brush. With all his purchases done, he had exactly two coppers left; it had taken him some haggling to ensure that. Keeping a sharp eye on his surroundings, he hurried down the alley to find the herbalist, pay the money that he owed him, and hasten away with the old man's mumbled thanks in his ears.

~

Martel waited until past nightfall before he left the castle again, carrying his newly purchased items and more food pilfered from the dining hall. With stolen glances, just to make sure nobody followed him, he walked towards the square of Emperor Lucius. This time, he did not wait by the statue, but instead sat down by the alley where Julia had appeared the last time. Keeping to the shadows with his hood up, he probably looked like a vagrant, and he doubted anybody would take notice of him.

After a while, his magic told him that something warm had appeared down the alley. Even with this knowledge, he did not see or hear her approach until she made herself known. "Hullo again, Julia," he said.

She made a little wave with her small fingers.

"I have more food and some other things. Clothes, soap, cloth for washing. You can find some clean water somewhere, I hope." He opened up the bundle in his lap to show the items.

She reached out and grabbed a loaf of bread, quickly devouring it. No stranger to hunger, Martel knew exactly how she felt. "This is all for me?" she asked, sounding a little suspicious. He imagined she had not encountered a lot of kindness lately.

"Yes. The dress is not my size, so you'll have to use it," he jested with a vague smile. She did not reciprocate but simply continued to eat. "Listen, I know of a place where you can stay."

"No."

"You don't even know what I'm suggesting. It's a nice house with other children your age."

"I lived in a nice house with my parents. I'm never going back to that. Not anywhere that the inquisitors can come for me."

Martel wanted to ask more, both curious to understand who her parents might have been, but also to assess whether there was any actual danger for Julia. Even though he had no knowledge of her parentage, he could not imagine the Inquisition would be on the hunt for a young girl who could not possibly have violated any of their tenets. But such questions could wait; what mattered most was getting her out of her filthy hideout and somewhere safe, fitting for habitation. "I promise you, this place is in the copper lanes. The inquisitors won't ever think to look for you there, if they are even searching. And you'll live with several other children you can hide among."

Julia finished the food. "I'm not going." She looked at the items in his lap, as if considering whether to grab them and bolt.

"Will you at least consider it? I can't return tomorrow, as I have somewhere I need to be. But the night after that, I'll be back, and I can take you to a place with a proper bed that doesn't smell of sewer water. I'll bring more food as well."

"Alright. I'll think about it."

Hoping that her common sense would defeat her fears, Martel handed over the clothes and other items he had bought for her. Once she had everything in her small grasp, she disappeared down the alley without making any noise.