The Thief, The Beggar, and the Dragonstone

Chapter 1

It was as if time stood still. That is what Hezekiah's Pa always said about the first time he looked into their mother's eyes.

"Get your Ma's medicine from Granny Bramble," Pa instructed Hez.

The Heartmor river flowed calmly past the bustling docks of Marlfield, as a crisp morning breeze blew through the air. Steamboats were already departing, carrying goods northward. The dock was alive with workers busily loading cargo onto the vessels. The scent of coal smoke permeated the area, adding to the energetic atmosphere.

Hez looked over at his mother. For the last few years, she had been ill. She had always had graying hair, but it was now so thin that it barely covered her scalp. She looked old, not like the woman she had been for the last seventeen years of his life. She had a drawn face, with dark circles under her eyes. There was nothing left of her except a scrawny skeleton.

Hez's younger brother Jack stepped out of the shadows from barrels that were stationed on the docks to help their mother sit on her travel trunk. Jack was lurking in the shadows, as usual. He liked to avoid people, especially crowds. Jack loved the shadows.

Ma was being taken to Brighthurst by Pa to see a doctor. Hez and his brothers had worked extra to pay for the trip up the river from Marlfield. Up passed the canals in Dale. Hopefully, the doctors could find out what was wrong with her.

Jack would muck stalls and do chores at the abbey in the evening, after working the wheat fields all day. Mr. Bluewell let John, his older brother, do odd jobs at the inn. Hez worked the river docks, loading and unloading river boats that came in the evening. All the extra money went to the boat fare and travel expenses their parents would need for their trip north.

During the day, Pa worked in the fields with his boys, and Mr. Calcraft would let him run back to the gypsy camp to check on Ma at lunchtime. Though Aunt Morgan, who was the Phuri dai of the Azulpozo Caravan, and the other gypsy women there took good care of her, he always had to check on her. Over the last few years, Pa had gotten screwy. Ma was everything to him. He always said, "When you swear your marriage oath, you honor it. Nothing is more important than your oath."

After taking the coin Pa gave him, Hez kissed his mother on her wrinkled head and said, "I love you, Ma."

She patted his arm, croaked out "Love you", which caused her to go into a coughing fit.

Hez hiked up the hill to the main road, his boots squished in the mud. It was long and steep. He dodged a wagon that lumbered down the dirt road, causing him to bump into a horse, which earned him a scolding from its rider, a man with a large-brimmed hat, with a purple feather in it. The man was a Knight Logan. His blue coat with an embroidered sword and sickle on the right breast made it obvious. Hez straightened his own wool coat and hurried on his way.

Maybe he would see Nivian. She was back in town. Jack had seen her when he was going after Ma's herbs. She was Granny Bramble's granddaughter. Every year after harvest, Nivian would spend the winter months studying herbs and healing techniques. It was difficult for poorer people to afford doctors. Therefore, they visited Granny.

The main road through town was Dotson street, one of the few streets paved with cobblestones. Shopkeepers and laborers were setting up for the day's work. The Harvest festival was taking place over the weekend, and many people were preparing for it. John, his older brother, was helping set up tables at the inn.

He turned down Brawdy street and headed toward the edge of town. As he ran past several brothels, women called out provocatively, starting the day early, it seemed. Town guards patrolled this street more frequently than others did. Perhaps because of all the drinking and roughhousing. Hez believed they liked the attention of the courtesans.