A Quiet City Street
Dec 18, 2007 2:44:20 GMT -5
Post by Tamás on Dec 18, 2007 2:44:20 GMT -5
*The black buildings towered above Tamás as he rode his horse along the narrow street, frowning at the deathly silence and grim outlook of the place. The softly falling snow already blanketed the roofs and deadened the sound of horseshoes on the cobbles. His breath clouded on the air as he surveyed the desolation of the slums. Distantly, he heard the thin sobs of a child at an upper window, but a rough adult hand pulled the shutter in with a bang, and shut up the house into silence.
A woman stood with her children at the corner. Her oldest girl was wrapped in the woman's shawl, and held her little brother by the hand, holding him close as the woman tried to soothe a wailing infant in her arms.
Tamás had grown up around countless children through cruel winters, and knew the sound: the baby was hungry. He looked into his travelling bag and found only the heel of a loaf of brown bread and no money. He dismounted and slowly approached the woman and her children. He handed the bread to the girl, who glanced uncertainly at her mother, who nodded.*
"Go on, take it," *he said, practicing the foreign words so different from the mellifluous sound of his mother tongue. His tone was warm, nonetheless, and the girl accepted the bread.*
"Thank you, sir," *said the woman wearily.* "It's been three days of bitter cabbage and last night there was no more...my husband is due back from sea sometime this month, but there's been no news of his ship..."
*Tears were in her eyes, and Tamás felt she needed someone to unburden herself upon as much as she and her children needed food.*
"I will pray for his safe and hasty return," *he said.* "And in the meantime..."
*He glanced about at the houses.*
"Are there many of you here who are hungry?"
"So many...it has been a hard year. They closed the factory nearby..." *said the woman, taking a bit of bread from her daughter and letting the baby mouth it hungrily.
Tamás nodded.*
"Call them. Send your children to get their friends--have one strong adult from each household come here."
*The woman frowned curiously, but went with her children and soon they returned, along with more peaked-looking women and cold children. A few old men and young boys as well, but those who could work and were not drunkards were walking the streets in search of a day's work.
Tamás removed the saddle and bridle from his horse and went to an elderly man who sat in a doorway. His blind, white eyes stared at nothing, but he clearly listened to all that was being said.*
"You know leather, dedko?" *he asked.*
"Well made, this..." *murmured the old man, his hands feeling the workings of the saddle.*
"It will fetch you a good price--yes?"
"It would, but--"
*Tamás had already returned to the horse and taken off the saddle blanket. Turning to the woman holding the infant, he wrapped it around her shoulders.*
"I regret that it cannot be more."
*He turned to the small crowd.*
"And your children are hungry? In my land this would never be allowed to pass while other men grew fat and threw rich scraps to their dogs!"
*He spoke with an air of command.*
"I am not a rich man...and God-willing I shall never own any wealth so long as there is one who needs it more than I."
*He removed his coat and rolled up the sleeves of his simple shirt of homespun material. Turning to his horse, he muttered a brief prayer of thanks and gazed into the moist brown eyes, stroking the horse under its mane.*
"You have been faithful to me, kamarát. As an animal whose sense is uncomplicated and like that of a child you must well know and trust the loving God who made you and to whom you will return."
*Circling his arm about the horse's neck, he held on tightly and quickly drew his dagger from his belt, neatly slicing the artery in the animal's neck and dragging it down onto the street even as it thrashed wildly for several moments before subsiding until the animals eyes went dull.*
"D'akujem vám smrt', pre bytie rýchly."
*He began to gut the animal, even as some of the women looked away. Still, as he began to distribute the horsemeat to be cooked, no one complained. Only the woman wrapped in the saddle blanket spoke, waiting last to take her piece.*
"Why do you do this?"
"Because it seems no one else will," *he said grimly, not looking up from his work.*
"Your accent--you must have journeyed far. How will you ever get back?"
*Tamás smiled as he made the final cuts to the meat and laid out the bones and organs neatly for those who needed them to take--nothing would go to waste. Even the hide could be used, and the horseshoes could be sold as scrap metal. He stepped back, wiping his bloody hands and dagger on the fresh snow, his breath curling steam into the air as he scrubbed the icy powder between his palms and up to his elbows to wash them.*
"I did not cut off my feet, did I?"
*Taking his jacket and now-empty bag, he grinned at the woman, tugged on the little girl's ear with a brotherly gesture and walked off down the street, disappearing round the corner to look for an inn that would take in and feed a man with nothing.*
A woman stood with her children at the corner. Her oldest girl was wrapped in the woman's shawl, and held her little brother by the hand, holding him close as the woman tried to soothe a wailing infant in her arms.
Tamás had grown up around countless children through cruel winters, and knew the sound: the baby was hungry. He looked into his travelling bag and found only the heel of a loaf of brown bread and no money. He dismounted and slowly approached the woman and her children. He handed the bread to the girl, who glanced uncertainly at her mother, who nodded.*
"Go on, take it," *he said, practicing the foreign words so different from the mellifluous sound of his mother tongue. His tone was warm, nonetheless, and the girl accepted the bread.*
"Thank you, sir," *said the woman wearily.* "It's been three days of bitter cabbage and last night there was no more...my husband is due back from sea sometime this month, but there's been no news of his ship..."
*Tears were in her eyes, and Tamás felt she needed someone to unburden herself upon as much as she and her children needed food.*
"I will pray for his safe and hasty return," *he said.* "And in the meantime..."
*He glanced about at the houses.*
"Are there many of you here who are hungry?"
"So many...it has been a hard year. They closed the factory nearby..." *said the woman, taking a bit of bread from her daughter and letting the baby mouth it hungrily.
Tamás nodded.*
"Call them. Send your children to get their friends--have one strong adult from each household come here."
*The woman frowned curiously, but went with her children and soon they returned, along with more peaked-looking women and cold children. A few old men and young boys as well, but those who could work and were not drunkards were walking the streets in search of a day's work.
Tamás removed the saddle and bridle from his horse and went to an elderly man who sat in a doorway. His blind, white eyes stared at nothing, but he clearly listened to all that was being said.*
"You know leather, dedko?" *he asked.*
"Well made, this..." *murmured the old man, his hands feeling the workings of the saddle.*
"It will fetch you a good price--yes?"
"It would, but--"
*Tamás had already returned to the horse and taken off the saddle blanket. Turning to the woman holding the infant, he wrapped it around her shoulders.*
"I regret that it cannot be more."
*He turned to the small crowd.*
"And your children are hungry? In my land this would never be allowed to pass while other men grew fat and threw rich scraps to their dogs!"
*He spoke with an air of command.*
"I am not a rich man...and God-willing I shall never own any wealth so long as there is one who needs it more than I."
*He removed his coat and rolled up the sleeves of his simple shirt of homespun material. Turning to his horse, he muttered a brief prayer of thanks and gazed into the moist brown eyes, stroking the horse under its mane.*
"You have been faithful to me, kamarát. As an animal whose sense is uncomplicated and like that of a child you must well know and trust the loving God who made you and to whom you will return."
*Circling his arm about the horse's neck, he held on tightly and quickly drew his dagger from his belt, neatly slicing the artery in the animal's neck and dragging it down onto the street even as it thrashed wildly for several moments before subsiding until the animals eyes went dull.*
"D'akujem vám smrt', pre bytie rýchly."
*He began to gut the animal, even as some of the women looked away. Still, as he began to distribute the horsemeat to be cooked, no one complained. Only the woman wrapped in the saddle blanket spoke, waiting last to take her piece.*
"Why do you do this?"
"Because it seems no one else will," *he said grimly, not looking up from his work.*
"Your accent--you must have journeyed far. How will you ever get back?"
*Tamás smiled as he made the final cuts to the meat and laid out the bones and organs neatly for those who needed them to take--nothing would go to waste. Even the hide could be used, and the horseshoes could be sold as scrap metal. He stepped back, wiping his bloody hands and dagger on the fresh snow, his breath curling steam into the air as he scrubbed the icy powder between his palms and up to his elbows to wash them.*
"I did not cut off my feet, did I?"
*Taking his jacket and now-empty bag, he grinned at the woman, tugged on the little girl's ear with a brotherly gesture and walked off down the street, disappearing round the corner to look for an inn that would take in and feed a man with nothing.*