Off The Beaten Path

Dreams are Nightmares

It was their last meal.

Or the last meal for most of them, anyway.

The tables were shoved together and stacked neatly so they spread out wide across the largest bar Wall Rose had to offer. Each table was laden with delicacies Bernell had only dreamed of; Fruits, vegetables, rice, bread, and noodles. There was water, fresh as could be, and ale. There were slabs of meat; ribs, roasts, steaks, jerky, ham, bacon, whole legs of pork and desserts. The boys bounced in their seats at the sight, the smells of the food as the plates were passed around by barmaids was intoxicating. Her hands tightened around the children's arms. It wouldn't do for them to make a fuss. She wanted to remain invisible, she still hoped that there could be something... anything. Hope.

"Sit." She ground through clenched teeth, stilling them beside her.

Her eyes wandered along the walls to the soldiers lounging bored, to the back of the room, up to the front. Most of the men, a crowd of far too old or much too young, took the tables closer to the front. Bernell watched warily as they pulled barmaids down into their laps, drank with abandon. She wanted to be disgusted, she wanted to be angry. Women and children far too young to witness such acts sat in the back, mostly minding themselves. Some of the older gentlemen had resigned themselves to what was happening and had taken to distracting fussy babies. A barmaid cleared her throat, setting a plate in front of Gabriel. His excited purrs pulled her back to the meal that they were about to receive. Three plates, laden with food, were sprawled before them. Bernell could feel her mouth watering, her fingers itching to bite into the sweet ham slices.

Instead she pushed her own plate aside and began carving the meat for her sons as her mind raced. She knew that this would be a rare treat for them; not being farmers and having lived in the city meat was scarce. Her eyes dropped to the plate, watching for a moment as Gabriel ate. She turned her attention to Ezra's food, making quick work of the tender slab of roast. The joy on Ezra's face at that first taste made her own stomach turn sour at the thought of eating. It was a suicide mission. This was their grand plan to ease the burden of survivors. Take on the young, the ones who are young enough to mold and shape and train to become militia, take on trades, become apprentices. Leave everyone else to die. The babies, the mothers, the young children that would just be a burden on the education system.

Burdens. Her eyes went to the windows, the doors. Her mind spun as she attempted to think of a way out, smiling blandly as a barmaid put another piece of meat on their plates. Her eyes were soft and sorrowful, she'd looked like she'd been crying. Her soft green eyes settled on Gabriel, who offered a hearty thank you and her eyes began filling with tears again.

"Sorry." She whispered, rushing away.

Bernell could feel her face screwing up into a frown as she picked up the knife again, scolding Gabriel when he speared the meat whole with his fork.

"Manners." She admonished, smiling at his pout.

"But it's so good!" He cried, tapping his fork tines on the wooden table. "I really like it. We've never had this much meat before."

She paused in her cutting, looking around again. Hopeless. A soft touch, a calloused hand, landed on hers making her jump. A kindly old man smiled back down at her.

"Eat." He offered quietly pulling the knife away, "Eat and I'll cut their meals for them."

Her hands shook as she looked at the blade, at her children. The older gentleman must have been able to read the direction her thoughts went, his other hand came to rest on her head. It calmed her almost immediately; an action her grandmother had once used on her when she was a child to 'calm those runaway thoughts' she had said with a smile in her tone. She looked up at the old man again, curious.