Chapter 7: Return to Baker's House
Demenik looked both ways before approaching the baker's house. He knocked and waited. After a few minutes, the door opened and the baker's smiling face appeared.
"Right on time, and look at you. You're much cleaner than last time. I think we can dispense with the washing down outside. Come in, lad, come in."
"Thank you, sir." Demenik stepped into the kitchen and stood near the door while the baker closed it.
"Here, come sit at the table." The baker pointed to the seat that Demenik had occupied last time before he moved to the stove to retrieve a pot of what smelled like stew. "Tell me what you've been up to this past week. You look stronger and better-dressed."
"I have eaten well, sir."
The baker paused and went to the doorway. "He's here, son. Come down now." The baker returned to the table and dished out a ladle full of thick stew into a bowl. He handed Demenik the bowl and a large chunk of bread. "Start eating, lad. Save your story until my son gets here. I want him to hear about your adventures."
Demenik ate slower than the last time, but he still managed to finish his first bowl of stew by the time the baker's son shuffled in and sat down at the table. Demenik nodded in greeting, but the boy said nothing as he sat down beside his father. Demenik shrugged and began to spoon more food into his mouth from the newly filled bowl.
"Demenik was about to tell us about his week. What was the first thing you did with the money, lad?"
"I bought food."
"I'm glad you were able to do so. I knew that it would be a struggle to find someone who would be able to make change for the silver piece, but I remember my days on the streets well. One coin is much easier to hide than a handful. Did anyone try to rob you?"
"I was careful."
"Excellent. So you bought food and received change?"
Demenik nodded.
"Then what did you do?"
How much do I want to tell this man? I feel that I owe him a story, but we are still strangers. "I bought boots and some decent clothes."
"Good. Anything else?"
Demenik shook his head.
The baker's expression changed. His lips pursed and he folded his hands on the table.
He is disappointed with my story. "In order to get change, I had to purchase a large amount of food, sir. All I had left after that was enough for the boots and clothes. I am sorry if I disappointed you, but I did try my best to spend the money wisely."
The baker smiled and took a deep breath. "I'm sure you did, lad. Would you prefer that I give you more coins this time instead of the one?"
"Thank you, sir, but I have figured it out. One coin is much better to hide and I have found a reliable person to make change for me this time."
"That's a clever lad." The baker beamed and reached for a small dish of butter. "Here now, put this on your bread."
"Thank you."
Demenik finished his second helping and then his third in silence. He pushed the plate away. "Once again you spoil me with such delicious food. I am grateful."
"Not at all." The baker stood and removed the bowl and took it to the sink. He returned with a piece of apple pie. "Eat this while my son takes hot water up to the bath for you. I have to prepare the pans for tomorrow morning."
The baker's son got up and went to the stove, lifting the large pot of hot water. As he walked past, Demenik thought he caught a glare but the boy was gone too quick for him to be certain.
His bath was quick this time, just long enough to scrub everywhere. When he was done, the baker looked at his neck and behind his ears to make certain that there was no dirt. He ruffled through Demenik's hair, looking for lice. With a satisfied nod he declared the boy clean. "It is not terribly late. I think we should all get some sleep."
Demenik knelt down near the back door to the kitchen and noticed two thick woolen blankets.
"Those are for you, lad." He handed Demenik another silver piece and ruffled his hair. "It was good to see you again. Leave in the morning when you are rested and return in one week. Be careful out there."
"I will do my best." Last week, he worked while I slept, but tonight he lets a street boy be in his house while the family sleeps. So odd to trust someone he does not know in such a way.
The baker extinguished the lights and left the kitchen. There were footsteps as father and son moved around on the top floor for a few minutes and then the house became silent.
Demenik lay on one blanket and bunched the second up to make a pillow. He fell asleep quickly.
***
At the first sounds of activity, Demenik was up and reaching for the door. He walked through the back alley and stopped at the corner of the building to peer into the street.
He scanned for danger before proceeding. There were barely any people and he saw no trace of the Keeper. A block from the baker's home, he turned the corner and smiled with relief. His smile melted away as an arm encircled his throat and pulled tightly, forcing him to cough and gasp for air.
"A week, huh?" The keeper pulled him forward until and then slammed his face into a nearby wall with a thud which caused his vision to explode in bursts of white light.
"I've been hunting you for a week, but today I get my reward for patience." The Keeper released his grip on Demenik's throat and threw him to the ground, the impact caused his remaining breath to leave him. Demenik gasped, unable to get a breath, then the toe of the Keeper's boot connected with his ribs. The sickening crack of his ribs sounded like a cannon blast in his mind. Demenik's eyes rolled back into his head and the Keeper's blows continued thudding into his body as blackness claimed him.
Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
stone