What Price a Kingdom

Copyright © Dr Dmis

Published by Oscar Publications

Paperback ISBN-13: 978-1-7397852-0-8

Hardback ISBN-13: 978-1-7397852-2-2

eBook ISBN-13: 978-1-7397852-1-5

Printed in the United Kingdom

All rights reserved in all media. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in retrieval system, copied in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise transmitted without written permission from the author and/or publisher. You must not circulate this book in any format. Any person who does any unauthorised act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages

This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. Names, characters, businesses, organisations, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The views expressed by the characters in this book are not the views of the author.

Cover design and layout by www.spiffingcovers.com

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 1

The Welcome Gift

Andrew is brushing glaze on the last of the loaves to go in the oven. Two hundred and twenty-two. He mutters to himself as he opens the oven door and loads the last tins onto the end shelve. Five down on yesterday for the same amount of ingredients, he says under his breath as he shuts the door and turns over the last of the twelve twenty-minute sand timers lined up above the door of the oven. He leans back against the kneading and proving table while folding his arms, trying to work out in his head how he can be five loaves short when his weights were right on the scales he uses to size out each loaf. ‘Water, yeast and salt quantities were the same as always, so how could it have happened?’ he wonders to himself.

He checks his balance scales with various combinations of weights on each side before concluding that it must have been the sack of flour he used that was a little light. For it is the only thing he uses that is not weighed out by himself, as the mix he uses requires one whole sack that is fifty pounds in weight. A ping from a small bell rings out and resonates through the bakery as the first sand timer rotates after emptying and strikes the edge of a small brass bell. Indicating that the first loaves are ready to come out of the oven. Andrew swiftly moves to the left-side oven door, pulling it open and sliding in a huge paddle to collect the first batch of loaves. He rotates and spins them out onto the table before he returns for the rest of the tins on that oven shelf. As these hit the table he rests the paddle between the two ovens and closes the door. Then he returns to line up his tins in preparation for the next stage. Andrew turns each one over, tapping the base with a hooked wooden club that has a smooth, well-worn and amber colored surface from years of use against the hot tins. Once the bread drops out, the tins are stacked ten high, and the loaves placed on a cooling rack in a matter of seconds.

As the first batch of bread is placed on the wire cooling racks, an elderly lady comes through from the next room to start collecting the loaves. Her hands are not as hardened to the heat as Andrew’s and she takes three at a time in a cloth and starts to fill the shelves in the shop window. ‘Ping’, another timer touches a bell and the process is repeated again and again until after half a hour, all the bread is out of the ovens and moved to the to the front of the shop.

Bread finished, Andrew clears away the tins ready for tomorrow and looks around at what he has left to make some sweet pastries. Due to the state of the country there is little in the way of luxuries and the choices are limited. He places what he has available on the table and looks it over. Some eggs, butter, a little cream, apples, dried fruit, honey and a little jam. Deciding the best way to stretch out the ingredients is an important part of his day as the more he can make, the more people he can feed. Today, he chooses to make a sponge with a jam and cream filling, apple and honey pastries and to finish off with some fruit cakes. Decision made, he starts to make the pastry first, then peels and boils the apples for the filling. Over the next hour he creates his works of edible art for his customers, utilizing every scrap of pastry and filling he has available.

In front of the bakery, widowed Penelope Johnson, Penny to her friends and all the customers she is well known to, opens the door to the shop and turns the sign to Open while it lasts. They do not have much to sell, just four styles of bread and the few treats in the form of sweet pastries and cake, but it is good quality and very fairly priced in comparison with the state-owned shops in the area. It does not take long for the first customers from the ever-growing que to enter for one of the warm loaves of bread, as many have been waiting outside for some time. Almost everyone who buys from the shop is a regular and known by name. In an effort to spread the bread out as far as possible, they only sell one loaf per person and up to two pastries when available.

Hello, Penny, says Sandra. Usual, please.

Penny puts the scored bloomer on top of the counter and Sandra picks up her bread, pays and leaves the shop in a hurry to get home and feed her family. It’s typical of the times; everybody is just about surviving, there are no easy lives for the common people round here. A few more customers enter the shop, but they do not buy anything yet, just stand there making conversation. It does not take long to work out why though, as when Andrew starts to bring out his pastries to the front of the shop, people immediately line up to buy what they are allowed; a treat for their children, wife or loved one. Whatever the reason, within an hour and a half of opening, the shop is sold out of produce and closes until the following day.

For Andrew, his day in the bakery comes to an end once the last of the pastries have been taken into the front of the shop to be sold. He will be up early and back in again tomorrow to light the ovens and start baking, as he is five or six days a week depending on the availability of flour and other ingredients required. As for Penny, her day is only half done, she will take the money earned from that morning and try to source the items needed to cook with and have them delivered ready for Andrew to start baking again at 4.30 the following morning. A difficult task in these desperate times, but with years of experience and many contacts and old friends across the town, Penny always seems to come through somehow, allowing Andrew to produce the food so greatly needed by the local people.

As he walks home, Andrew passes a group of children sitting around a small fire, some pushing more sticks into the flames to gain a little more heat, while others just huddle together for extra warmth. They are dirty, look half-starved and one of the girls only has one shoe on her feet. As always, Andrew takes pity on them. He stops, takes the loaf of bread from inside his jacket and starts to break off chunks, handing it out to the little one’s piece at a time. The smile of appreciation from them all lifts his spirit a little, but he is sad that this is a sight he sees so often on his walk to and from the bakery. He keeps a third of the loaf back for himself and after wrapping it back up, he places it back under his coat for the journey home.

With a wave and many a thank-you from the children, he continues on his way. How can the country have gone so badly downhill? he wonders to himself. Young children homeless on the streets with no families to look after them. People in such poverty they are barely able to support themselves or their families. It was only ten years ago that the small country of Kelsey was the envy of all Europe. A long, narrow sliver of land between Hanover and Denmark and boasting a population of just under a million people. It is not the largest country around, but the volume and quality of all the products and trade goods coming out of this land through its three ports and land borders had been highly prized with other countries and kingdoms.

Once famed for its great variety of cheeses, fine cattle and smoked, spiced, and salted fish as well as fine quality jewelry and metal for use in the production of armour and weapons. It made Kelsey a desirable country to trade and have commerce with as it could supply much needed resources to neighboring countries. This abundance of trade goods also made Kelsey wealthy and important nation to have political ties with, ensuring prosperity to its people. The country’s legendary white and gray Ambulette horses were prized across the known world for their stamina and strength in battle; the best of them worth a princely sum that only nobility could afford, or indeed, even allowed to own outside of their native country. Strong in the shoulders, with a powerful gallop and unflinching under fire, these gentle giants of the equine world have been at the head of many a battle involving heavy horse and lance across many European battles.

Now, however, the country is on its knees, torn apart by a corrupt government that holds its own people in a vice-like grip to line its pockets with all it can. Taxes cripple the poor with the middle classes not faring much better. As for the royal family, well, since the assassination of the king and queen near fifteen years ago, the child who was to inherit the throne when she came of age was now under state control. Even when she finally reached the age of eighteen and was due to take back control of the country and rule the kingdom by her own hand. It was not to be, for the government had been plotting and scheming for years. Putting in place new laws and legislations to contain her, restricting her powers and ability to rule. They kept control of the country for themselves under the guise of it being for the good of the state, citing that she was unprepared and ill-equipped to handle such a momentous undertaking. Moving back the age she was to take back control, year upon year as they plotted to seek her demise and remove her from office permanently.

The last five years had seen the worst of the decline in the country, families torn apart by those wanting to rebel and others wanting to make the best of what they have left. Barely anything the country now produces sees any return to its subjects as the now ruling government takes almost all the proceeds in taxes and other extortionate charges. In the past year alone, the government had sent in the National Guard to enforce law and order, pitting families against each other as politicians added more and more restrictions and taxes to ensure the people could not break free from the stranglehold they had over them.

Andrew, like so many, barely makes enough to get by. For many more with families, life has become an up-hill battle just to survive and get through each day. Alcohol is prohibited in most cities unless sold by the state for an extortionate price and gatherings of over fifty people are now illegal unless state-run. Trading on the black market is now the only way some people can survive; swapping or selling things they own for items they desperately needed to make it through these harsh times.

To the people of this country, life had become nothing more than a giant prison, the entire border contained within miles and miles of fencing and patrolled by armed soldiers. Nobody was allowed into the country unless sanctioned by the government, or it was a pre-planned state visit overseen by the ministry in person. All wishing to leave Kelsey must also have documentation supplied by the government and approved by ministry officials. Jobs that allowed access to the outside world had been restricted; for example, all merchant sailors’ families were put under house arrest until their return, to ensure they did not abscond or complain to neighboring countries about living conditions and the true state of the country.

As for diplomatic guests and nobility on state visits from adjacent countries, they were always well entertained in the capital; the place where all Kelsey’s government ministers and their families are housed, along with the privileged few who still had money to maintain their position. Visitors that are entertained by the state see this country as a place of absolute beauty with grand buildings, spacious parks and wonderful shops, restaurants and public buildings like opera houses and theaters.

They are even taken out to the country on organized visits to see cattle farming and horse training in a model village close to the capital. If only they had the chance to go just a little further, just another mile or so, for they would then see the truth and the true state of the people of this country under the control of The Three Heads.

The Three Heads was the name given to the three top politicians and government lawgivers, for they now run Kelsey and are considered by themselves to be above all others who reside in their domain. They have put each other in key positions to control the entire country and all within it, including the monarchy. The capital has now been split into three sections, with each of them running their third of the city from a palace, converted national library and a state Museum. Buildings that have been taken over by them as they grew in power and influence. All three establishments are fully equipped with all manner of amenities, sparing no expense to ensure absolute luxury.

William Bonner and Herbert Mallory are of about equal power of the three of them; cold, ruthless and, above all, dedicated to getting all they can for themselves and their bank balances. They both fear Alexander Stone as he has his own army in the National Guard and complete control on all mercenaries and bodyguards, with powers above all others in law enforcement. He has the final say on everything and all the jails and holding cells of the entire country are almost entirely filled with people he has had incarcerated for the good of his empire. There is nothing these three men would not do to maintain absolute power and complete control of Kelsey. Those that attempt to oppose them are branded traitors and revolutionaries and imprisoned without any formal hearing or court appearance.

Andrew finally reaches his little thatched cottage with its ornate wheat sheaf patterns in the thatch. Inside, he places the remainder of his bread on the table and throws his coat over the back of a chair, then goes out into his garden. Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath through his nose, he smiles as he smells the scents of the flowers. He tries to picture in his mind which one he smells first, but it’s a tough call. Opening his eyes, he looks round at the beautiful array of blooms, for every area of his garden is full of flowers of different colors, shapes and sizes. Every wall and trellis is alive with plants and fruit bushes, all eager to worship the sun and put themselves on display.

He collects two wooden buckets from the side of a small potting shed and walks to the end of the garden and down four small steps to a narrow brook, where he fills the buckets with water from the fast-running stream. Then, makes his way round the garden, giving every plant a much-needed drink on this chilly late spring day, checking each one for pests or infection while deadheading any old and withered flowerheads, until he is satisfied his work is done.

His next stop is at his two beehives, positioned on each side of a compost heap, Andrew watches them for a while to ensure their behavior is normal. The one on the left is a larger hive and will soon need another shelf added to the stack to accommodate the growing population, but not just yet! For now, he is content that with both hives growing and functioning this well at the start of the season, the year should be a bumper one for honey come the autumn. With the garden in good order, he takes his favorite seat against the back wall of the cottage and runs his fingers through the mint that grows beside and under the seat. Sniffing the strong, sweet fragrance left on his hand he sits back to relax for a while, listening to his army of pollinators hard at work.

For an hour he sits, away from everyone and everything, just the sound of bees buzzing around him and the waft of different scents from his flowers, depending on the strength and direction of the breeze as it moves through the garden. For this brief moment in time, he is free from all the worries of the world and his eyes soon begin to close.

He is woken from his daydream by his stomach rumbling and demanding sustenance. Stretching out while yawning, he gets up and heads back into the kitchen, collecting a part-used stick of butter and a pot of honey from his pantry. At the table he spreads the butter and honey on the last of the loaf, comforted by the fact that it was his bees that made the honey with nectar harvested from his flowers the previous season.

Later that day Andrew is sitting in front of his fire in an old armchair passed down to him from his sister some years back. It is worn and lumpy, but still comfortable and reminds him of her. Soon, though, he will have to get up and get ready to go out, for today is the last Friday of the month and, as with every last Friday, there is a state-sanctioned event in the town hall; a competition all are eager to enter, for the prize is a large hamper of food that would supplement many a family. Andrew has always wanted to win, as the hamper is always full of different preserves and dried fruits unavailable to him to purchase due to their price, and he could make such fine cakes and pastries with them. Also, the various types of cured meat and fish would also provide a welcome change from his usual diet of bread and honey.

He gets changed into his best clothes and combs his hair, then makes his way into the center of the small town. It is a good twenty-minute walk away, but the cost of a carriage is not in his budget. For once, though, he is in no rush, for all get one chance to enter this particular event as it lasts several hours. On arrival he books himself in and waits to be put into a group of eight. Once the group is called, you head to a table, are given twenty tokens and begin to play cards. The winner is the person with all the tokens from the rest of the people around the table, or the most tokens if the game lasts over half an hour.

Whist, four-card stud poker and speculation are amongst the many games that could be played, but only at the start of the night would anybody know which game would be on the agenda for that month. Andrew and seven other people are taken into the main hall, and, as he takes his place at the table the adjudicator announces that the game this month is knockout whist. It is a tense and nervous moment as Andrew and his group are seated at a table and begin to look around at each other. There is no time to get acquainted as the cards are swiftly dealt and the event commences. Many do not understand the game, they are here purely because food is the prize on offer. Within ten minutes Andrew is through to the next round and over the next hour or so he is on fire with his best run at the game ever, moving from table to table as he wins with a great run of cards that does not seem possible: queens, kings, it seems whatever he needs to build a hand just drops for him.

Within four hours he is on the final table, facing seven others for the prize hamper that is on display next to them. He has never got this far before; his hands are sweaty, and it takes all his willpower to stop them shaking and maintain his expressionless gaze. Looking at the others around the table he can sense he is out of his league by the way they roll chips around their fingers and stack them ready to play. At this stage of the competition, the chips for each finalist are doubled and an audience of those that have already lost builds as they all wish to see who wins the event. The competitors all look at each other with shifty eyes; that is all but one, for at the end of the table sits a woman in her late twenties or early thirties. She’s perfectly poised and has her hair up, revealing a pale, elegant neck. Her clothes are neat and tidy, but the dark green color and embroidered frills of her cloths are a little frumpy by today’s modern standards. The brooch and few items of jewelry she wears look old fashioned and dated, more like family heirlooms than fashionable accessories.

Andrew watches her as the cards are dealt. She shows no expression or emotion as the others around her banter with each other in an attempt to distract or glean advantage; she just picks up her cards, looks at them and places them face down to wait her turn. There is something about her that is captivating and intriguing to him. Andrew is sure that has never met this woman before, yet she seems somehow familiar to him, in a way he cannot explain.

He gets back to the game at hand. In the first couple of hands dealt, he and the lady opposite have a win apiece and gain a few chips each from the others round the table. The next round they both fold and it becomes a three-way tussle between the more aggressive players in the group; in the final stages one man goes all in and pushes his chips into the center of the table, quickly followed by the other two sliding all they have into the pot. There is a tense silence with all the crowd watching from afar as the men look at each other before the first man places jack, queen, king in mixed suits down on the table. He has a smile on his face as he does so, but it is short-lived as the next person places down a ten, jack and queen of spades. The balding man smiles, showing his blackened teeth and a deep hearty chuckle as he reaches forward with his hands to claim the pot thinking he has won. As his hands touch the chips, the final bearded man throws down three aces on top of the pile, pulling a huge gasp from the intensely watching crowd.

The second man is incensed at his loss as he clearly thought he had the winning hand. He swears and curses the gentleman who beat him as he storms away from the table, escorted by some of the government organizers to ensure no trouble ensues. In truth, all of them had good hands, but with three aces only one of them earns the right to stay at the table and he now has a huge advantage over the others still in the game with the number of chips he has amassed. Over the next couple of rounds, he tries to force out Andrew and the lady with some strong bidding, but they have both played what they have been dealt well and win a game each, reducing the man’s stack by half and eliminating the other two competitors in the process.

With half the allotted time left and all three of them about even on chips, the contest becomes a bit cagey and caution enters the game for the first time. Andrew is next to take a couple of small wins before the other two competitors get into a high-bidding game. Andrew drops out with a poor hand and watches as the game between the lady and the other man heats up. Still showing no emotion and keeping her composure perfectly, she applies pressure by ramping up the bid slowly on the first two rounds and then pushing with a hundred-chip final bet, forcing the man to make a decision that could win or lose the game for him. If he calls her he will have just eighty chips left should he lose, if he folds he will have lost most of his chips to the pot, so he makes the bold decision to go all in and try and bluff his way out of the situation. The woman stares at him intently before pushing all her chips forward, forcing him to play his hand first. He looks solemnly at her as he turns over a run of four, five, six, and smiles at woman, thinking he has the winning hand. As the crowd applaud and mutter amongst themselves, she pauses for a moment before slowly turning over three tens while looking directly back at him.

The man realizes he has been outplayed and smiles while shaking his head. He stands up and leaves the table, only looking back and nodding to her from afar as he departs the room.

Now, only Andrew stands in her way. The next two hands are small wins for him, but with time now fast running out he needs to get in a good hand to have any chance of winning the Hamper. The clock continues to tick down as he looks at his newly dealt cards. It’s not very good with just a pair of sevens and an ace, but with only two minutes left to play, he has no time to fold and wait for a better hand; as she has more chips than him, so will win if the timer runs out. Andrew takes a deep breath and closes his eyes as he pushes all his chips into the middle; he does not have enough to take all her chips, but, if she matches his bet. More than half the chips will be in play so the winner of this round will take the win.

The lady stares at him, pauses for a moment, then slides all her chips into the middle, making it truly an all-or-nothing hand. There are gasps, murmurs and comments from the people standing around watching the game as they are aware that if she had just folded, she would have won the game without having to play the hand.

The clock on the table chimes, signaling the end of the competition and the room falls silent. With all the chips in play, the game must now be finished to find a winner to the competition. The spectators start to move forward towards the table, eager to watch the final hands be turned over. As Andrew has been seen by the woman, so he must lay down his cards first. With trembling hands, he slowly turns his two sevens and an ace over and lays them down on the table while looking at the lady’s face. A very slight smirk reveals her only emotion of the night as she leans forward towards her cards. Andrew knows instantly that she has beaten him and his heart sinks after coming so close. She puts her hand over the cards, pauses as she looks him in the eyes, then slides them toward the middle of the table without turning them over, conceding the hand to Andrew.

The crowd roars and cheers Andrew as they rush forward to shake his hand while Andrew stares at the woman in disbelief. She again shows no emotion as she picks up her belongings and overcoat and turns to walk away through the many people rushing past her to congratulate Andrew. He knows for certain she had him beat and is desperate to look at her hand, but the rules will not allow him to touch a conceded hand if the player chooses not to turn them over. He just has to watch as the dealer stacks all the cards together and shuffles them, destroying any chance of finding out what hand she had.

Andrew is escorted through the crowd, some cheer and praise him, while others are resentful and disappointed at not winning themselves. He moves towards the waiting officials to collect his prize. A family-size hamper filled with prime goods, ranging from food and drink to medicine and small gifts. It is a great prize indeed and he is unaware of the envy many of them show towards him as his mind is elsewhere, wondering why the lady did not claim the prize she surely won. He looks for her in the crowd, but she has long since disappeared into the masses and will not be seen unless she chooses to show herself. Andrew takes the applause from the people still around at the presentation and shakes the hands of the officials. One of them gives a small speech about the generosity of the state as the prize is wheeled in and shown to everyone, leaving many jealous at Andrews good fortune.

From that moment on, everything happens so fast that it becomes a bit of a blur to Andrew. Within minutes the officials leave the room and the people who were surrounding him led away to the exits and dispersed by the organizers. A man moves forward, closes the lid on the wicker hamper and ties up the straps, then stands up and turns to Andrew.

Well done young man, please allow me to help you get this to the door as time is close to curfew and I must clear the building.

Andrew and the man lift the hamper off the table and between them they move to the nearest exit of the building, lowering the hamper to the ground on the other side of the door.

The man then shakes Andrew by the hand, gives him a small nod and steps back through the doorway, closing the door behind him. Andrew hears the clunk as the top and bottom bolts are locked, then fading footsteps as he walks away from the door. He looks around from the side street he is now standing on and sees nobody. Then, with an icy shudder down his spine, it dawns on him. He is in a city full of starving inhabitants, miles from home in an area where a curfew comes into effect in less than half an hour, carrying a basket full of food along the road. Adrenalin now kicks in, together with fear for his safety, he grabs the handles of his prize and begins to stagger towards the main road. His only hope is to flag down a horse-drawn cab, but with so many people leaving the building earlier there are precious few around and the ones he sees already have people in them hurrying to get home.

Pushing on towards his home, he gets the feeling he is being watched from every dark corner and entrance he passes. Looking around in the poorly lit street, he spots a face in the doorway here and someone smoking over there. It is very unnerving for him as he begins to feel more and more vulnerable with every step. His heart pounds faster and faster as he begins to hear footsteps and muffled whispers. Three men appear from an alleyway running between two houses, stepping out into his path with menace in their eyes, one tapping his leg with a long wooden club. Andrew begins to feel that it will not be long now before he is attacked and wonders how much it will hurt as he looks around for any chance of escape. He will not give up his prize without exploring every option first, but the situation does look desperate as he stops and places the hamper on the ground, ready to make a last stand.

Suddenly a carriage draws up beside him and stops, he hears a pistol or rifle click as it is cocked above him and he closes his eyes expecting the worst, but several seconds go by and nothing happens. He opens his eyes and watches as the three men in front of him start slowly walking backwards and into the shadows down the side of a building before disappearing from sight. He looks up and sees the driver of the cab pointing a rifle in the direction of the receding men.

I suggest you put that basket on the back of the coach while I keep watch, my boy, says the elderly man. Once on, you had better get inside so we can be off before they come back in greater numbers.

Andrew does not need to be asked twice. He staggers round to the back of the coach and pulls out the luggage hatch, placing the hamper into the opening. He then moves back around the side of the coach, opens the door and climbs inside as the driver calls out to him again. Where to, my boy? as he flicks the reins and pulls away.

Andrew leans out of the window and replies, 47 Brook Road, just off the main road, past the bishop’s monument. As he sits back down, he looks up and notices a cloaked person sitting opposite him. He watches as the person slowly pulls back the hood to reveal her face. To his astonishment, sitting opposite him is the woman he was playing cards with at the final table. He cannot help but stare at her, unable to get the words he is thinking to come out of his mouth.

I think you had better close your mouth as the expression does not seem to suit you, she says with a very slight smile on her face.

Andrew closes his mouth and thinks for a moment. I presume it is you I have to thank for saving me back there? A moment longer and I fear that my life would have been in danger.

It would seem that the streets are not as they once were, that is true, but I do not feel that you were in danger, just the food you were carrying. For a man who fought so hard to claim his prize it would not do for you to lose it while taking it home to your family, she says.

Andrew smiles at her. You are mistaken, my lady, you had me beaten. I know that for a fact, yet you folded your hand and gave me the win and I know not why!

She gives him a curious look. What makes you think that I gave you the win, perhaps you had a better hand than me and I just wanted to hide my bluff.

No, I am not buying that, I saw it in your face as I turned my cards and if you still want your prize you can have it. I would not feel bad about the rightful winner taking what they had won.

What would your family think of you giving away such food when all around are so hungry?

Andrew shakes his head. I have no family at home. I entered the competition as I can use the food to make more things in my bakery. Times are hard for all around here and I struggle to get ingredients. I like to give food to the children I walk past on my way home, for they have no parents to look after them and, in some cases, not even shoes on their feet. The woman seems to be taken back by his words and looks to the side as if to hide her disappointment, then looks back at him.

Is it really that bad that children are left to fend for themselves?

Andrew nods. Times are not good at the moment, but I can only hope they will get better.

The driver pulls up outside Andrew’s house. We be here, young sir, best you collect your hamper and get inside, for we do not have long to get back to the house before the curfew is in place.

Andrew steps down from the carriage, but, before he leaves, looks back at the lady. Are you sure you do not want the basket, for it is rightfully yours?

She looks at him. Take it and do with it as you will, but I ask you give something to the children for it saddens me that they are the ones left on the streets of this once-fine town.

Andrew closes the carriage door and takes down the hamper from the back of the coach. No sooner has the basket hit the ground than the carriage takes off at a brisk pace down the road. Andrew lunges forward to close up the hatch and watches as the carriage rounds the memorial and heads back toward town. He follows it with his eyes until it’s out of sight before picking up the wicker basket and struggling into his house with it. It is only as he closes the door that he realizes that he still does not know the name of the lady who came to his aid when he most needed it.

Dragging the hamper into the kitchen, he starts to unpack its contents onto the table and then around his kitchen. It fills his pantry with more things than it has ever seen before: pickled vegetables, preserves, cured meats, cheeses, bottles of wine, biscuits and sugared candies, to name but a few. He plans what he can take to work the next day to make some tasty treats to sell, then takes a small knife and carves himself a few slices of ham to eat before heading off to bed, for in a few hours he must be at the bakery again.

By ten o’clock the following day Andrew has been busy in the shop for several hours and has produced a few more pastry items than usual with the help of some ingredients from the hamper. They are selling out fast, but he has held back several cheese and ham pastries for himself. With his work done for another day, he places his apron on the side and collects the bag with the treats for the children. As he passes Penny at the front of the shop she stops him and gives him a hug and a kiss on the cheek.

I do not know how we would survive without you, my dear, as you always seem to make enough to keep everybody fed around here. But know this, one day somebody will reward you for all your kindness, you mark my words, my boy. Andrew went to walk away but she pulled him back. And please keep some of them pastries for yourself to eat, you are no use to anyone if you do not stay healthy and you are surely needed, more than you realize.

Andrew smiled and kissed her on the head. I will, but someone has to help the children; they are our future.

As he walks along the path, his mind is still on the woman from the card game. Her calmness and presence made him feel good and he wonders who she was and what her name is. He would dearly like to see her again, but with no way of finding her, it will just have to remain a pleasant memory of a moment in time.

Soon, he arrives at the fire pit where the children can usually be found, but today nobody is present and the area constructed of rocks and tree stumps has been kicked around and everything is strewn across the floor. He looks inside the two derelict buildings nearby in the hope they are sheltering inside but finds no trace of the children. Andrew begins to worry for the safety of the little ones he has come to know, but is also aware that if they were in danger they would scatter to places only they know to hide and be safe in. So he starts to rebuild the rocks around the old fire pit, then collects wood and other burnable items and builds a fire. Once the fire is built, he lights it with a strike-a-light and gently blows on the embers to get a flame burning. He rolls back the large log and places the stools and other stumps that have been scattered about around the fire area and sits down to warm his hands.

It takes around ten minutes before he hears footsteps and the sound of people walking on loose rubble, but does not look round, just stares at the fire, poking it with a long stick. A few minutes later, a small boy takes the seat beside him, then another, closely followed by two more. Finally, the five girls, ranging in age from about ten to fifteen or so, arrive as a group and stand around the fire to warm themselves. The older one is bruised, her clothes ripped, and she has a small cut on her bottom lip. Andrew waits for them all to sit down before handing one of them the bag containing the pastries. She takes one and passes it on to the next child and so on until the bag returns with one pastry left. Andrew takes it from the bag and starts to eat, and, as he does, the others start to eat as well.

What happened?

For a while there is silence before one of the boys speaks. Last night some men stinking of grog come looking for the girls. They nearly got Anna, but she wedged herself in a drain against the bars. We threw rocks at them as they pulled at her until they gave up and moved back to the fire. It was very scary. The boy takes a bite from his food, chews and swallows it before continuing. They got very angry and smashed the place up. They get very nasty when they do not get what they want.

Andrew looks at Anna, who is nibbling on her food and watching him intently. As he stands up, she turns to run. He puts the palms of his hands out in an attempt to reassure her, but he can see fear in her eyes. He steps away from the children and starts to walk away; he does not want the children to see the tears running down his face.

Thank you, mister! Anna yells at him, but it only makes Andrew feel worse and the tears begin to flow more readily. He stops and wipes his eyes, looks back at the children, then heads off toward his house, angry that his country has become such a terrible place to live and that he can do nothing about it.

When he arrives home, he storms straight out into the garden, tears still flowing as he drops to his knees and shudders, trembling with rage and sadness at the same time. He falls forward onto his hands. How can it get this bad? Those children deserve better than this. He mutters to himself.

I called to you, but you did not answer, comes a voice from the kitchen.

Andrew freezes, then wipes the tears from his eyes as best he can before getting back to his feet and turning around. To his amazement, the lady from the card game is stood in the doorway, and behind her the driver of the carriage holding two full sacks in his hands. She sees the state Andrew is in and looks at the driver, who puts down the sacks and disappears.

I did not mean to intrude, but you passed me with such haste that you did not hear me calling out to you.

Andrew wipes his eyes again and looks at her with a smile. Please come through and take a seat. He gestures her to a wooden bench in the garden. The lady steps forward and is instantly taken back by the display of flowers and bushes that make up the garden. She can smell the lavender and honeysuckle in the air and the range of colors and plants in such a small place is quite captivating.

I had some spare clothing and shoes at home, leftovers from the children that used to live there and I thought after yesterday’s conversation that they might be of use to the little ones you spoke about. Walking over to the bench, she takes a seat and looks round the garden, spotting the two beehives nearby. Does it not worry you, being so close to them?

Andrew looks in the direction that she is facing and spots the honeybees flying around. In the five years or so that I have been beekeeping, the only time I have been stung is when I accidentally sat on one of them. They both smile before Andrew continues. I’m sorry to be so rude, I have not even introduced myself yet. My name is Andrew, he says quietly.

The lady looks at him. It is a pleasure to meet you, Andrew, she says in a composed manner.

Andrew wipes his eyes again while waiting for her to tell him who she is, but with nothing coming back he bravely asks, It would be nice to know with whom I am having a conversation?

She pauses for a moment. If I tell you my name, I would like to know what saddens you so in return.

Andrew thinks on her words for a moment while looking at the bees flying around, then nods his head. I tell you my name, but it is for you and you alone, I do not wish for anyone else to know it, is that acceptable to you?

He agrees with another nod.

My name is Margaret Dessola, but to you I would sooner be known as Marge.

Andrew puts out his hand. It is a pleasure to finally know the name of the finest card player I have ever seen, he says with a smile. Marge seems reluctant at first, but eventually puts her hand out and shakes Andrew’s open hand.

Now, Andrew, pray tell me why you are in such a state, for it saddens me to see you in such a way.

He looks at her, rubbing his hands nervously. It is the homeless children down the road. They were attacked last night by drunken men trying to get at the young girls, in particular a girl called Anna. She is a bit bruised, scared and her clothes were ripped, but she did get away. He sighs heavily as he