The Earl's Keeper

Seven - Countess

Six years earlier...

The oncoming of dusk brought to life the owls whose hooting echoed through the woods and the town. The merchants had packed away, and most shops had closed. Save for he taverns, of course. Those had become livelier, and louder.

The young Mia hurried down the well trodden paths of the town. Her feet taking her home, and her eyes flickering left and right with apprehension. Drunkards were a very real problem and a nuisance at the best of times. Now that she was caught out in the dark alone, it was best to hurry home. 

As if her thoughts had foreshadowed it, a figure lurched from the alleyway to her right. She jumped back with a start as a shadow topple over at her feet. Groaning and cursing.

In the dimming light, he appeared to be an elderly man. His clothes, though dirtied and crumpled, were of quality fabrics as opposites to her simple muslin and cotton. The richly ornate and decorated overcoat hinted at upperclass gentry or perhaps even noble. The scruffy beard and haggard greying hair with the overall disheveled look, told her that he had been sleeping rough for a few nights. She snorted at the irony.

Mia skirted around the fellow and was all for leaving when her shoulders sagged, and she sighed. If he wasn't used to such a life, surely he will suffer the wrath of those that do. He'll be mugged by bandits and drunken fools alike when they catch him out here, and soon. Her mind whispered. Leave it be. Her head directed her.

He reminded her of her own father. With his weather beaten face, dark eyes and greying hair. She sighed in defeat once more.

'Come on, you old fool.' Mia turned back and crouched down beside the man. 'Up you get.'

'Nnnnoooo.' He slurred, trying to bat her away. 'She's-she's g-gone.'

Other than that feeble attempt at attack, she deduced he was harmless. Mia put her basket of goods down to hoist the older man to his feet. When he tried again, to push her away, she slapped his hand and fixed him with a stern look. Even in his foxed state, the nobleman acknowledged the authority in the young chit and yielded. His mind sobering up slightly. She had been rather surprised at how ice cold he was to the touch, almost deathly. A sudden worry in her mind as to his state of health.

His body dwarfed hers and put considerable weight on her as she huffed and puffed with the effort of keeping him upright. Slinging his arm over her shoulders, she grabbed her basket and began directing the man towards her home. He kept a wary eye on her throughout the torturously slow journey to wherever she was taking him. His mind sobering throughout.

Her father wasn't home yet, when they finally reached their modest little house on the outskirts of the town.

She managed to settle the man down by the fire with a spare change of her father's clothes, a warm blanket and a bowl of thick chicken soup.

She had thought he would protest, but surprisingly obliged without a word.

Mia stirred a spoon of sugar into the tea and offered him the mug, and he took it gladly. Enjoying the heat that seeped into his palms and fingers. It had been many nights since he'd had any form of luxury akin to civilised living, rather than that of an abandoned dog. The kindness of her gesture didn't go without scrutiny.

'Why did you help me?' He asked, voice laced with suspicion, when she had finally sat down opposite him on an armchair. Nursing a tattered book and a cup of tea.