Watching the children eat their treats had Thomas rather hungry and he looked around, spying smoke from the chimneys of the bakers. They seemed to be located behind the street of the merchants, so he convinced Maitland that they should find some food before the festivities began, and she grasped the children, moving them away from the dogs as Thomas headed across the avenue. Thomas could hear Roland and Renard weeping now, as they evidently wanted to take some of the dogs with them. Having much experience in weeping children as a result of Caria, Thomas backtracked his steps and took the little boys with him, one in each hand, as he herded everyone towards the street of the bakers.
The street of the bakers turned out to be more of a central courtyard of bakers, with three of them churning out bread and other food for hungry visitors. Thomas went from baker to baker, buying bread and butter, and anything else they happened to have. The first baker had stuffed eggs, which were hard-boiled eggs filled with the cooked yolk mashed with herbs and cheese, while the second baker had fruit bread and pies filled with meat, apples, and carrots.
While Tibelda and Maitland settled the children down beneath a small tree that was behind one of the baker’s ovens, spreading out the feast before them, Thomas went to the third baker to find a pie of honey and apples, all baked up with clove. Bringing two big pies back to the children, he set them down on the ground before them and watched the children stuffthemselves. In fact, they ate so much that he had to return for more eggs and meat pies for himself, Maitland, and Tibelda.
“Truly, Thomas, you have done so much already,” Maitland said as he handed her a meat pie of her own. “Tibby and I could have shared with the children.”
Thomas had a mouthful of eggs. “You do not need to share with them,” he said. “You deserve your own food. You have worked hard enough for it.”
She looked down at her pie as if unsure. “You have been far too kind,” she said quietly. “I do not think I have ever known anyone so generous.”
He stopped chewing and looked at her. “It is for you, you know,” he said softly. “Everything I do is for you. Do you not realize that yet?”
She looked at him, smiling weakly. “I do not even know what to say.”
“Tell me you know why I am doing all of this.”
“I know.”
He resumed chewing, swallowing the bite in his mouth. “Good,” he said. “Now–eat.”
It was a subtle command. With a grin on her face, Maitland tucked into the meat pie, using her fingers, and it was utterly delicious. Hungry, she plowed through most of it, giving over a small corner to Artus, who was still hungry. But it didn’t matter; her belly was full, as was her heart.
Truly, she didn’t think it could be any fuller.
Tucked back behind the warm stone ovens of the baker’s circle, the children were beginning to grow sleepy. Having been up well before sunrise, and now with full bellies after an eventful morning, they were now lying down in the grassy patches or resting on each other. Dyana was already sleeping on Tibelda, while Renard and Roland had lain down on each other, sleeping like puppies in a pile. Phin, the silent young lad who was thesame age as Nora, sat with the sisters as Marybelle lay her head on her sister’s lap and fell asleep. That left Artus standing off by himself, but when he saw Thomas and Maitland in quiet conversation, he wandered over to them.
“I dunna want tae sleep,” he said flatly. “Can I go out and look at the fair?”
Thomas looked at the boy, amused. “You do not wish to rest? It has been a busy day already.”
Artus shook his head, frowning. “I’m not a bairn,” he said. “I want tae see the fair!”
He was quite enthusiastic about the festivities, disdainful that Thomas should think he needed to sleep. Therefore, Thomas took pity on him.
“You would get swallowed up out there if you went out alone,” he said. “I will go with you. In fact, Lady Bowlin should come with us, too. She may see something that she needs for the home.”
Maitland wasn’t sure what that could be but she didn’t give him any argument; she simply nodded. Artus was thrilled to be able to go out along the avenue and see all of the sights, with Thomas and Maitland bringing up the rear. Leaving Tibelda with the children, the three of them headed out onto the main road again, now onto the street of the merchants where there were all manner of tradesmen and importers.
Artus raced up ahead, immediately mesmerized by a smithy who was pounding at something on his anvil. Sparks flew and the child stood there, entranced, as Thomas and Maitland walked through the crowd, catching up with the boy. Thomas’ gaze lingered on the lad.
“I’ve not had the opportunity to ask you how Artus has been this past week,” he said. “He was quite defiant on the night we arrived at Edenside but seems to have settled down well enough.”
Maitland’s gaze was on Artus. “All things considered, he has settled in admirably well.”
“Has he stopped calling himself Wrath?”
She grinned. “Aye,” she said. “He has. I was afraid we would have trouble with him when I forced Queenie out, and initially he was upset, but that quickly passed when he realized I would not be stealing the food from the children. It seems that Queenie had stolen nearly everything and the children were subsisting on very little, but they had no one else to care for them.”
“Did Artus tell you that?”
She nodded. “Aye,” she said. “He spoke a little of what happened with the abbot’s sister and the servant. It would seem that Artus hid all of the children that were left from a servant he called Laird Letty, a man who took children away who would never return.”
Thomas shook his head sadly. “And he does not know what became of the children?”
“Nay. But he knew enough to hide those he could.”
“Where did he hide them that the servant could not find them?”
