Margaretha was well aware that she and Colin were dripping water everywhere. “I’m so sorry. We are making a terrible mess.”
“It’s only water. Are you hungry? Because I have some fresh bread my husband took out of the oven a few minutes ago. He’s angry because he knows no one will come buy it now that it’s raining.”
“I’m afraid we don’t have any money,” Margaretha said, the words coming out slowly and regretfully.
“Here.” The woman turned and took a loaf off the rough wooden shelf behind her. “Take it.”
It was fresh oat bread. Margaretha immediately tore it and gave half to Colin. They both broke off a piece and ate it.
It was still warm. Tears came to Margaretha’s eyes in gratitude for the woman’s kindness.
“Maud!” a man’s voice boomed from beyond the open doorway at the back of the tiny room.
“You’d better go.” The woman’s eyes flew wide. “That’s my husband and he will be angry if he knows I gave away the bread.”
“Thank you,” Margaretha said, squeezing the woman’s hand and turning to go. She stuffed the bread inside her kirtle, between the woolen dress and her undergown, and she and Colin ran back out into the cold rain.
They ran down the street and soon saw another house almost hidden by trees, as it was set off the road and away from the village and the fields. It was much larger and was made of stone instead of the wattle-and-daub construction of the rest of the houses and chicken coops. They tromped through the mud and undergrowth toward it, but instead of heading toward the front door, Colin led her around the side of the house toward what looked like a barn.
At the back of the barn there was a smaller door. He opened it and they went inside.
The smell of hay and dung assaulted her nostrils, but the barn was relatively warm and dry. The only light came from the door. He left it open a crack, and they sat down on the hay.
They each took out their half of the loaf of bread and resumed eating.
The horses snuffled restlessly in their stalls. But another sound came from the other side of the barn, away from the horses’ stalls, and it seemed to be coming closer. Colin hid his bread behind his back and moved in front of Margaretha, as though to protect her.
A small boy emerged from the shadows, staring at them with wide eyes. But it wasn’t them he was staring at. It was the bread in Margaretha’s hand.
His cheeks were thin and he wore a long ragged tunic with no sleeves. His bare arms were bent, and he squatted in the straw. Bare toes peeked out at her.
Margaretha’s heart clenched. “Are you hungry?” She broke off a large portion of her bread and held it out to him.
Like a little bird, he crept forward two steps at a time, then reached and took the bread from her hand, looking into her eyes for the first time.
“You need that food, Margaretha.”
The sound of Colin’s voice sent the little boy running back the way he had come. The foreign language probably startled him as well.
“We have a long way to walk, and you need your strength.”
“He’s only a little child and obviously hungry. How could I not share my bread with him?”
Colin tore off an equally large piece of his bread and handed it to Margaretha.
“No, I can’t take your bread. You need it as much as I do.”
The little boy shuffled back toward them, now looking at Colin’s bread. Judging by the huge lump in his cheek, he had already stuffed all the bread Margaretha had given him into his mouth. He held out his hand to Colin.
Colin sighed, but held out the bread. The boy snatched it and backed away.
Margaretha caught Colin smiling. “What are you thinking?”
“I was remembering something John taught me a long time ago. There is more than one way to get food.” He put another bite of his bread in his mouth, then got up.
His movement caused the little boy to dart away into the darkest part of the stable.
“I need to find a long piece of twine and some sticks.”
“Whatever for?”
He looked around until he found a ball of twine. “To make a snare.”
“Oh.”
He started to go back out the door.
“Wait!” Margaretha stood and touched his arm. “Are you sure you should go into the rain? It is so cold. And if you snare some game, couldn’t the landowner do something bad to you?”