Chương 24: Chapter 016 An Arman Wrap A Day Keeps The Healer At Bay (Part 2)

Jack bolted down the stairs to the kitchen, unsheathing his dagger. In the kitchen, he found his mom in full combat mode. One arm cradling little Richard with the poise of a guardian knight, the other wielding a broom like a spear on a domestic battlefield. The orphan girl cowered beneath the table, still clutching her now-empty bowl and wooden spoon, while Jack's mom jabbed the broom at her with righteous fury.

"How did you get in here, you little thief?" she bellowed, the broom quivering in her hand. Little Richard gurgled amidst the chaos, as though providing commentary on the absurdity of it all. The girl took her chance to escape by darting out from beneath the table and scrambling behind Jack. The spoon was still in her mouth, and her wide, puppy-dog eyes were full of terror and confusion. Jack couldn't help but laugh at the situation.

"Mom, it's alright. She's with me. She's not a thief." He glanced down at the girl huddled behind him. Well, actually, she is. Just not a very good one. His mom spun around, ready to wallop him with the broom as if he were the second intruder in her sacred kitchen. But when she saw the dagger in his hand and recognised her own son, she froze with a frown that bordered on a scowl; the broom was still held aloft, ready to strike.

Her eyes shifted from the blade to Jack, to the hiding girl, then back again to the weapon.

"Why do you have a knife? You shouldn't have a dangerous knife!" Jack winced, realising too late that he'd forgotten to hide it. Shit! I'm so bad at this. He scrambled for a plausible lie.

"I've taken up archery as a hobby. To keep fit," he added.

"The merchant gave me a really good deal if I bought them as a pair." He gestured with the dagger towards the blood-splattered white oak bow leaning beside the chair, something his mom had yet to notice.

"She said I'd need some protection while I practise." His eyes widened when he looked at the bloodstain. Oh, damn. It wasn't the worst excuse. Plenty of non-combat classes carried weapons, especially with goblins and bandits causing trouble on the outskirts of the city. His mom's eyes widened in horror as she took in both weapons. Forgetting all about the orphan girl in the room, she exclaimed, "You're not bringing dangerous weapons into this house!"

She slammed the broom against the wall and wrapped little Richard in a protective hug.

"Your poor Aunt Betty's little boy lost a finger when your good-for-nothing uncle left his knife unattended. He could've bled out if it wasn't for the dog barking. Fenton saved the little boy's life!" Oh, crap, she has a story about the danger of weapons. Jack didn't know what to say. He sheathed the dagger.

"Erm, can we talk about the weapons later?" he asked, nodding towards the little girl, who was now seated on the floor, trying to lick the bowl clean. She couldn't quite reach the bottom with her tongue, so she'd resorted to scraping the last of the stew gravy with the wooden spoon. His mom drew a long, steadying breath.

"Who is she, and why is she in my kitchen eating meat pie filling?" Jack hadn't prepared for this conversation. He hadn't even thought up a suitable lie yet. I'm terrible at this. He couldn't tell her the truth, that they'd met when the orphan tried to snatch his coin purse, or that he'd pulled a dagger on the girl before deciding to buy her a few of Arman's wraps. Why has life got so complicated? He decided to stick as close to the truth as he could.

"She's an orphan. I gave her one of Arman's wraps and thought Polly might have some old clothes she could wear." He breathed a quiet sigh of relief. The half-truth sounded reasonable and made him look decent in the process.

"Where does Polly keep her old clothes?" His mom's expression softened with pity as she took in the orphan girl's shabby appearance.

"Oh, you poor dear," she murmured, then turned to Jack with a look of disappointed bewilderment.

"Why haven't you at least cleaned the poor child's face?" Jack shrugged. In his defence, he was far better with a scribe's pen than a bar of soap. He had a tendency to overlook mundane necessities when he was caught up in work. His mom inspected the girl's grubby hands next.

"You didn't even help her wash her hands before eating! Jack! That's how you get the runs, you know. So many people die that way; where to even start." She placed the baby in the cradle.

"What's the girl's name?" Jack frowned.

"I don't know." He hadn't thought to ask. He wasn't planning on making her his new best friend. Standing with her hands on her hips, his mom let out a sigh.

"You didn't even ask her name. Men are so useless." Then she crouched down, her voice softening as she addressed the little girl.

"What's your name, dear?"

"Zia." She licked the wooden spoon.

"Your name's Zia?" his mom confirmed with a gentle smile. The girl nodded.

"Well, Zia, how about we get you cleaned up, and I'll find some of Polly's old clothes for you? Polly is Jack's younger sister." She cast her son a glance of mild exasperation.

"I'm guessing the thoughtless idiot didn't tell you that?" Zia nodded again, and Jack couldn't help but think, How am I the bad guy here? I was doing something nice! Why do I feel guilty? He recalled an old popular saying among commoners: 'Leave no good deed unpunished, no bad one unrewarded.' His mom took the girl by the hand and led her towards the bathroom. Before leaving, she called over her shoulder, "Take those deadly weapons to your room. We'll deal with those later."

She glanced at the baby, now sleeping in the cradle.

"Keep an eye on your little brother while I get Zia clean and dressed." Jack nodded and watched as his mother guided the orphan down the hallway. That could've gone worse, I suppose. He dropped off his pack and weapons in his room upstairs, then returned to the kitchen to wait. After a few minutes of idling, he fetched some scribe supplies from his desk and sat at the kitchen table. Unfurling a blank scroll, he began working on a new [Fireball] spell scroll.

"Might as well earn some coin while I wait." Little Richard gurgled in agreement. You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

As Jack finished a second [Fireball] scroll, his mom returned to the kitchen with the now-clean Zia. He didn't recognise her without the layer of dirt. The little orphan girl had striking silver hair, long enough to brush the woollen dress his younger sister once wore. Gone were her brown-stained shoes; they'd been replaced by a pair of sandals. Zia offered a shy smile as she entered the kitchen. Jack grinned.

"You look human… I thought maybe there was a goblin under all that dirt." He laughed at his own joke. To his dismay, Zia began to cry, and his mother gave him a look of disappointment.

"I'm sorry, it was meant as a joke…" he backtracked.

"You don't look anything like an ugly goblin. You're pretty like a… human girl?" It did not help. The girl cried even louder as his mom picked her up and hugged her.

"There, there, dear," patting her on the back while the child sobbed into her shoulder.

"He's an idiot with no brains." Then she shot Jack a look that suggested he should have known better. Jack was clueless. What did I do wrong? Guilt gnawed at him. What did I do?

"Everything's going to be all right, dear. Those nasty creatures can't hurt you here. We're safe." His mom continued to pat the sobbing child.

"We're safe in Lundun. Powerful royal knights are protecting us. You've seen the big flying ships and the towers. Nothing bad can get into the city, sweetie. You're safe now. I promise." Zia dug herself deeper into the hug like she'd never been held before. Was she attacked by goblins? Jack was confused. She must have been attacked at some point. How was I meant to know that?

"Are you hungry, dear?" his mom asked.

"Would you like something hot to eat?" Jack considered answering, 'Yes, please,' but stayed silent. Zia calmed down and nodded. Jack struggled to stifle a chuckle. Of course, food would help calm her down. His mom sat Zia down while giving Jack a scathing look that, to him, sounded like: 'Keep your big fat mouth shut about goblins, you uncaring idiot.' Then she began to prepare something to eat. She zipped around the kitchen, grabbing ingredients.

Before long, both Jack and Zia were straining their necks to see what was being made. Jack licked his lips.

"Is that bacon you're frying?" He knew it was and wanted to ask for some. Instead, he gave what he believed were subtle hints.

"Smells delicious, Mom… like everything you cook." He wasn't exaggerating; everything she made was delicious.

"Really smells tasty. Mmm…" His mother laughed.

"Don't worry, I'm making enough for all of us." Jack returned her laugh.

"Be right back," he said as he gathered his scribe supplies. He rushed back after storing them in his room. A short while later, Jack, Zia, and his mom sat at the table, plates piled high with steaming food. Bacon, eggs, fried bread, and tomatoes.

"Thanks, Mom," Jack said as he cut into his bacon and dipped it in runny egg yolk. Zia watched him eat, then looked to Jack's mother for permission to eat. She patted the girl on the head.

"It's okay, you can eat. It's all yours." Then she turned to her own meal. Zia offered a shy smile.

"Th-thank you, Mo…" she trailed off, her smile fading. Jack moaned at the taste.

"Hmm, so good." He licked his lips. I can't believe I used to take this for granted. He swallowed the mouthful of food.

"This is a slice of heaven on a plate, Mom." He took another forkful of bacon, eggs, and tomatoes. With cheeks stuffed full, like an overzealous hamster, the little girl nodded in agreement.

"Hmm, so good," she mumbled through her food, echoing Jack. His mom chuckled. While eating, Jack planned the rest of his day. I'll walk the girl back into the city and find somewhere to practi s e with my new bow, he mused, smiling at the thought of practising without a scarred arm. After that, I'll create some more spell scrolls. Having purchased a dagger and a bow, he had no immediate need for coin.

Still, he enjoyed using his scribe skills and would need armour and a lot of gold to prepare to assassinate Greaves in four or so years from now. A few minutes later, after finishing his meal and patting his stomach, Jack said, "Thanks, Mom. That was delicious." Zia nodded in agreement as she continued her meal, her mouth stuffed full of fried bread soaked in tomato juice. Waiting for the orphan girl to finish, Jack announced, "I plan to go practise with my new bow after I return Zia to the city."

His mother stopped eating and set her cutlery on the plate. She looked at him with disappointed eyes.

"You plan to do what?" she snarled. Jack flinched.

"I understand you don't like weapons in the house, but I have to get fit…" He was interrupted by his mother before he could continue. She stood, anger flashing through her eyes.

"Who cares about the damn stupid weapons? You plan to return poor little Zia back into the city. Alone?!" She crossed her arms, waiting for an answer. With wide puppy-dog eyes, Zia looked first at Jack and then up at his mother. Jack, not sure what was going on, nodded.

"Erm… yeah?" His mother paced.

"You are not putting poor, sweet, innocent, little Zia back on those dangerous streets filled with thugs and who knows what else." Then she stopped pacing and regarded Jack as if she didn't recognise the boy she'd raised for sixteen years.

"What sort of books have you been reading to believe that is acceptable behaviour from an upstanding member of our great Kingdom? I thought we'd raised you better than this!"

'Poor, sweet, innocent little Zia' glanced between Jack and his mother, the little girl's mouth still mechanically chewing. Jack blinked at his mom's tirade. Have we been living in different K ingdoms? The streets of this 'great K ingdom' are filled with orphans no one cares about. He took a deep breath, struggling to form an acceptable answer.

'Erm… yeah' appeared to be the wrong one. With no better reply, he asked, "Where else should I take her?" His mother's shoulders slumped in exasperation.

"Zia is going nowhere. She's staying with us, of course." She patted the little girl on the head.

"Ignore that fool. Men don't have feelings any deeper than their appetites." She sat back down and resumed her meal. The decision was made; Zia was moving in. Zia looked at Jack, and then his mom, tears forming in her eyes. She went back to eating with a small smile and a lot of hope in her heart. Jack sat in silence, regretting the moment he ever met 'poor, sweet, innocent little Zia', the orphan girl, who tried to steal his coin purse. Oh, shit, if she ever tells Mom I held a dagger to her throat, I'm dead…

again. He looked at the little girl who looked like an innocent fairy. Is she likely to blab? A short while later, as Jack contemplated his imminent demise at his mother's hands, his mom cleared the plates with Zia's help. After a few minutes of watching the pair clean up, in a nervous voice, he asked, "Is it all right if I go out and play with my bow?" He felt embarrassed. He'd reverted to acting like a child. By the Gods, I'm a forty-one-year-old man. What is going on? How did she do that?

His mother left Zia to finish cleaning the plates.

"And where do you plan to play with your dangerous bow?" His first thought was the family courtyard, but he soon shot that idea down. He could already imagine his mother arguing that it was too dangerous, that she didn't want to deal with stray arrows impaling the neighbours. He stifled a chuckle at the funny image.

"I was thinking of finding a safe spot close to the city to practise; somewhere I wouldn't hurt anyone." His mother grunted.

"You're an adult now, Jack; you have to make your own choices." She tapped her chin.

"We'll be discussing this later with your father." Turning back to the dishes, she said, "You're doing a good job there, Zia." Patting the girl on the head, she added, "It's nice to have a useful child around the house." She glanced back at Jack. Little Richard started to cry.

"He needs a feed," his mother said, glancing at the time.

"I'm so behind on everything now." She gave Jack another disappointed look. Jack felt guilty.

"Do you need any help from me?" His mom chuckled.

"Do you think you can feed the baby?" Jack shook his head; he lacked the necessary class skills. She laughed as she picked up the baby, and Jack took that as a cue that he could leave to 'play' with his bow.