The Seventh Year

The Seventh Year
Kel carefully examined the worn shirts in the market. With the cotton tax so high, many had taken the opportunity to pass off their cast-offs to the desperate, of which, he supposed, he was now one.
Kel sensed something but did not allow himself to tense. With his right hand he continued riffling through th shirts. Smoothly, he drew back his left hand and caught the thin fingers of the pickpocket. He heard a muffled gasp and tightened his grip
He turned and surveyed the young man he held. The pickpocket had dirty, dark hair and unusual green eyes. His face was very calm as he waited for his fate. He said nothing.
Kel raised a brow “Aren’t you going to ask me?”
“Ask you what?” He had a surprisingly cultured voice.
“Not to turn you over to the Guard, I presume.”
He saw the pickpocket’s face whiten. “Since I did not succeed in taking your coin, I’d rather hoped that you would be lenient.” There was more on his face than fear, and Kel relaxed his grip a bit.
His first impulse was, of course, to follow the law and turn the thief in. But Kel could read near-starvation in the narrow width of his shoulders and wrists. With the fall of the nobility, many of the children of the noble houses had been thrown into the street. The boy looked about seventeen, the right age. That voice had not come from the alleys of Ezti.
He released his grip. “I grant you lenience from your crime in exchange for a favor.”
The boy rubbed his wrist. “What favor?” he asked warily.
Kel smiled reassuringly. “Just to satisfy my curiosity . . . what is your name and House?”
He stiffened “It is forbidden to speak of that.”
“Stealing is forbidden as well.” He waited, but the boy was loath to answer. “I’m Kaukel D’Almeida,” Kel said, naming one of his minor connections.
“Zacarias D’Almeida Bran,” the boy blurted out. “You’re D’Almeida? Who are you?”
Kel was stunned. “I am Laurendi’s son, off his wife before Melitxu.”
“I am Annala’s son, Melitxu’s half-sister.” He smiled shyly.
“Related not by blood, but by name.” Kel ran a hand through his hair. “I was away. When the nobility fell, I mean. Everyone except you?”
Zacarias looked down. “Yes.”
“I’m sorry.” Kel swallowed past the lump in his throat. He looked over the boy again, seeing anew his pallor and emaciation. “I would love to stay and talk with you, but my ship leaves this evening and I have to get everything ready. Is there anyway . . .you need assistance? ”
The smile died from Zacarias face. He drew himself up stubbornly. “I’m ‘prenticed to fishmaster’s guild.”
Kkel caught his breath. The harsh conditions of that group were well known.
“What are the terms?”
“Meals from our catch. Lodging.” Zacarias shrugged.
“You mean, if there is no catch you get no food. Is that what happened today?”
Zacarias smiled bitterly. “Our boat took a hole. The boss takes the money to repair it out of our wages. It’s been a month, now.”
Kel opened his mouth but was interrupted by a loud voice in his ear. “Kaukel We’ve no time to dawdle ”
“If possible, I would say you were acting even ruder than usual. Gamon, this is Zacarias, my newly discovered cousin. Zacarias, Gamon, my keeper and occasional friend”
“Pleased, I’m sure,” said Gamon, shaking his hand briefly. “Kel?” His expression was tense. “We really must go now.”
“Coming,” Kel turned back to Zacarias. “I am glad to meet you” He leaned forward and gave him the kiss of family on his thin cheek. “May peace come to you.” He turned and left before Zac could think of a thing to say.
Bewildered at the strange encounter, Zac stood, just staring, for a time. Finally, he took a step, and frowned at the unexpected weight against his leg. He reached inside his pocket and pulled out a heavy money-purse. The very one that he had tried to steal.


Aightight!! My very first posting!! Please read and review, constructive criticism is very helpful. Even just to say "i read your story." Update coming v. soon! (promise) Will contain slash in later chapters, but I'll be sure to post a warning if needed.
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