Page 170 of A Baron of Bonds
I decided to let this memory take place, carefully watching for any sign of what I was supposed to do here. At least my knee no longer throbbed.
If I was supposed to just observe, why was I able to speak and move?
He wiped his feet on the step up into the house and opened the door, the scent of bacon frying hitting his nose and he sniffed again.
“Did your father find anything this morning?” Rev’s mother was at a small fire, flipping thin slices of fatty bacon over a black pan.
He moved to the small table in the room, standing behind a chair, holding his arms out in front of him. Bits of blue tendrils left his fingers, weak and broken, but he managed to use magic to pull the chair toward him, shakily with short, jerky movements.
He climbed into the seat and answered, “No. Father’s talking with the warden about the order.”
She stiffened, her back still turned, nursing the bacon and watching carefully as it cooked.
I had heard the words of his reply, but I did not know the meaning of them.
Revich eyed the stack of three metal plates across the table, lowered his head and opened his hands, pulling the top plate with his magic, lifting it high in the air and jerking it toward him.
He let go too soon and it clattered to the tabletop.
His mother turned and stood, hand over her heart. “Rev, don’t dawdle. Your father will be back any minute.”
She brought the pan to the table, setting a soiled rag underneath, forking two slices of bacon and setting them on Revich’s plate. She then added a single piece to the other two.
She turned to the loaf of bread near the oven and Revich tore at one of his pieces, splitting it in half and giving the other to his mother.
I knew his little face held a wide grin, because I was also grinning. Even as a child, Rev loved with gifts.
Bringing three slices of bread to the table, his mother sat, eyeing the gifted piece of bacon and winking at her son, gobbling it up at the same time he did.
“I’m coming with you today to help fill the order as fast as we can. So, eat up.” She sighed, looking out the dingy window. “It’s going to be a long day, Little Love.”
Rev scarfed down his food, filling his empty belly.
I decided to speak, trying to gain some knowledge of whythismemory as I lived it with him. “How will you help fill the order?”
She cocked her head to the side. “I’ve mined before. You know that.”
I nodded, thinking of what else I could ask to understand what was happening this day. “For rhyzolm? We’re filling an order to…to the people of the isle?”
She bent forward and felt my head. “Are you feeling alright, Revich? Maybe you should stay home and rest. Though I’ll have a difficult time convincing your father unless you start vomiting now.”
Right on cue, the door burst open and a man strode in, pulling off his boots and tossing them by the door.
The weight in the room shifted suddenly. I could feel the tension in Rev’s body and see it in his mother’s.
I took the opportunity to look Rev’s father over. He wore his hair short, cut almost to the very skin of his scalp, the color difficult to really discern, but somewhere lighter than black. His eyes were blue, but held an icy a coldness to them, none of the warmth of Rev’s.
He was about Revich’s height and build, strong arms and broad shouldered, likely from his work mining rhyzolm.
Revich had told me he didn’t remember much about his parents. I knew they had both died when he was very young, and he became a ward of the village, families taking turns with each of the many orphans.
He had told me once it had kept him fed, but did not keep him loved, and I wondered now if he remembered hehadbeen loved. Very much loved by his mother.
Revich eyed his father in silence, and I with him as he sat, picking up his single piece of bacon and frowning. “Just the one?” he gruffed, glancing at Revich’s plate.
His mother spoke quickly, “If we can help fill part of the order today, you’ll have more tomorrow. I’m coming with you.”
He huffed in reply, chewing the fatty meat before diving into his meager bread.
