The Baker's Daughter (Working Title) | #Wattys2018

Humble Beginnings

In the days of King Jude the Fourth, a peasant man by the name of James Cobbler scraped what little money he had together, and bought a sack of the finest grain he could afford with a measly handful of coppers. With it, he baked a batch of loaves, which he took to the muddy streets of Pigsbottom laid out on a tray still hot from the oven to sell.

At the end of the day, the man returned empty-handed, for he had stumbled across a child on his path, starving and skeletal, and, feeling a sympathy he had never known before, he handed the boy the few coins he had earned from selling his wares so that he may get a hot meal, and returned home with nought but his empty tray in hand and an empty purse in his pocket.

He resolved to try again, for his bread had sold, and half a sack of grain remained; just enough for him to make a second batch, which he would sell on the morrow.

His wife, a young woman with a babe at her breast, watched him by the fire with trepidation. She dreaded to think what would become of them if he returned with an empty purse the next day. Her husband was getting old, and an illness two winters ago had rendered his joints stiff, leaving him unable to take upon himself any manual labour that might have brought in a few more coins into their household, but she remained silent, watching as her husband kneaded away at his dough with a look of determination and happiness in his eyes that she hadn't seen since the birth of their child. She would have hope, she decided, as she glanced down at the babe cradled in cloth in her arms.

The next day, James took his loaves onto the streets of Pigsbottom once more, and returned later that evening with a purseful of coppers: enough to buy another sack of grain with still some coins left over.

It wasn't long before James Cobbler's bread had become renowned in the lower streets of the kingdom, and soon enough, he had enough coin set aside to buy better grain.

His business of selling loaves flourished until his wares were in high demand and he found himself selling out much too quickly. He was returning home early one spring morning, his tray empty, when he came across the small boy he had helped so long ago.

The boy looked much healthier now, and he smiled up at James with a dirty face.

"What's your name, boy?" James asked, not unkindly, as the boy approached.

"Tom, sir." The boy replied, blinking up at the old man with clear green eyes.

"Well, Tom, what would you say to giving this old man a hand with his business?" He asked, staring down at the lad through the greying beard that adorned his face.

Tom was given the task of bearing a tray.

"Take no less than four coppers for a loaf, and return when they're all gone." Old James instructed is new apprentice. The boy nodded his head and took off onto the streets with James limping slowly behind him.

Story has it that the apprentice went about shouting 'Get your Cobb's cobs 'ere!', and thus, humble old James Cobbler became known as Cobb's the cob man to all who lived down in Pigsbottom.

Word traveled fast, and Cobb's business grew until even those in Midshill had heard the name of Cobb''s the cob man.

Soon enough, Cobbs had a whole army of small lads in his employment, and he and his wife were able to move out of their old shack of a home into something much more suitable on the outskirts of Midshill. His lads drove a hard bargain and never lost his trust, and young Tom had become so dear to the old man that when he began to grow old and his joints grew too stiff, he taught him the trick of his trade.

Years passed, and old James had indeed grown old, his son had grown into a young and strapping boy, and Tom had become a son to him, and he treated him as such.

That year, the harshest winter James had ever seen ravaged the land, decimating crops and leaving the land impoverished. His plentiful stores old grain remained plentiful, for without crops the land had no coin, and without coin, his bread went unsold. In his old age, James still remained as sympathetic as when he had first met Tom, and so he instructed that enough bread would be baked to be handed out to those in need, and his reputation grew.

Up on top of the High Maiden's Hill, word reached the King of Old James Cobbler's selfless endeavours, and intrigue drove him to request that the old man appear before him. James, whose knees were too swollen to make it up the hill anymore chose to send his son, James, who had shown promise in the art of breadmaking, and Tom, his closest companion, as his son's guide.

Upon being presented to him, the King eyed the two with mirth.

"I see no old man before me. Tell me, what demanded his attention so that he couldn't reply to his King's request himself?" He sat on his throne with ease and grace.

"We beg your pardon, Your Highness. My Father can no longer make the journey up High Maiden's Hill for his age and lack of mobility. He sends me with his sincerest apologies and regrets." For a peasants lad, the boy spoke with such eloquence and grace.

"And who might you be, boy?" His King demanded.

"I am James Cobbler the Second, Son of James Cobbler the First, Your Highness."

"And you?" The King turned to Tom, a man who had grown handsome with age and rugged from his years of kneading dough.

"I am Tom, Your Highness, 'pprentice of James Cobbler the First."

"Son and apprentice, eh?" The King mumbled in thought. He surveyed the two lads for but a moment before addressing the two again.

"I suppose you are completely oblivious to the matters that brought you here today?" The King propped a bearded chin on his hand.

"Yes, Your Highness." Replied the son, bowing his head in respect.

The King chuckled to himself. "I've called you to make an offer."

The two returned home after their meeting, running as fast as their legs could carry them down High Maiden's Hill until they reached the home of James Cobbler the first, and brought him the news of their formed agreement.

For years, Cobb's bakery would supply the King's banquets with breads and pastries alike, until one fateful year, when the bells peeled out across the snow devoured city with words of the Kings passing.

The son of the King, Prince Jorge, was a man of extravagant taste and favoured the foods imported from Kingdoms afar to those of Cobb's humble creations. The agreement was severed, and Cobb's bakery suffered a blow.

With the coronation of King Jorge, a savvy man, imports became much preferred over the food grown locally to those wealthy enough, and sales plummeted. With fortune enough to keep his business, James Cobbs, feeling death creeping up behind him, decided to leave his home in the city, and travel out to the countryside to live out the rest of his days in a small village mill, and bringing his family with him, the bakery returned to it's humble beginnings.

Years later, a savage winter took Old James Cobbler to his grave, and his son remained to keep the business running. His mother died shortly after out of grief. 

It was here, in the small village of Applemill, that he met his future wife, a simple country girl names Betti, and months after that, a baby girl was born between them.

It is here, in the small countryside village mill, that our story truly begins.