After about twenty minutes of non-stop eating, Mrs. Koraski wound her way down the stairs and held a large, paper wrapped parcel out towards Kre. “Here son,” she said with a soft smile, setting the parcel on the bench next to Kre. “You’ll be wanting to change your clothes. I’d like to say that I don’t have an inkling of what you boys were up to last night, to get yourselves so dirty and bloodied, but that’d be a lie. Still, I’ll overlook your nocturnal activities if you do everything I say the first time with no complaints and no questions asked.”
It was an odd request, to say the least, but Kre nodded all the same. “Good,” she replied happily, a weight seemingly lifted from her shoulders. “Now, finish your plate and get changed.”
She scraped a few more morsels onto Kre’s plate and then sauntered off to the kitchen with the serving dishes, leaving him alone again. Even though he felt sated, Kre still took a few more bites, taking a pause between each one to untie the twine keeping the paper wrapped around the clothes.
The Lodge often provided laundry services for their guests by outsourcing the task to various families in town. Kre never noticed them coming back wrapped like this though. Growing ever more curious, he continued alternating taking bites and unwrapping the package.
Chewing over a large bite of ham, Kre found a pair of soft woolen pants, dyed a deep forest green; a white cotton shirt; a sturdy, intricately stitched leather vest; a pair of soft, black-dyed leather gloves; a thick, wide-bodied belt; and a very nice set of tall riding boots. He ran his fingers over the stitch work on the vest and mentally remarked how they matched the design on the belt and the cuffs of both the gloves and boots.
Even to Kre’s undiscerning eyes, these clothes appeared to be brand new and much too fine a quality to have been made here in Mintas. “They were intended for Welter. A gift for his wedding day.” Pete’s father stood at the doorway to the kitchen and nodded at the clothes strewn out on the bench next to Kre. “She had them hemmed a bit, but you and Welter are surprisingly near the same size, so it didn’t take too long.”
“I can’t…” Kre stammered, “these are just too nice. I can’t accept these.”
“I believe,” Mr. Koraski grinned, “that you promised to do as my wife asked.” He quickly looked back into the kitchen and then back at Kre in a sort of conspiratorial way. “Please Kre,” he whispered with a pleading smile, “don’t make this any more difficult than it already is.”
“Make what more difficult?” Kre asked, still not comprehending the situation.
Mr. Koraski shrugged, “Your departure. Braun was up at first light with a wagon and he would have dragged you out of bed if not for my wife. She demanded that he at least allow you a proper breakfast and time to pack.”
“Now? What? I don’t even…” Kre frantically looked around him, trying to make sense of what he should be doing first now that the time of his exile had come.
“Slow down boy,” the elder Koraski replied in the same voice he used to calm horses that were being too skittish. He walked over to Kre’s side and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, “Take it one step at a time. Regarding the clothes, your parents would do the same, if the situation were reversed. As for that little weasel waiting outside, he doesn’t dare cross that threshold so you take your time.”
Kre took a deep, calming breath and then jerked his head towards the front door. “How long has the, uh, weasel been waiting?”
Grinning widely, Mr. Koraski replied, “Oh, about two hours. You did sleep in pretty well you know.”
“He’s going to be so unbearable on this trip,” groaned Kre. “I’m going to pay for this morning all the way to the Citadel.”
“Yeah, you absolutely are.” Mr. Koraski laughed heartily at Kre’s expense and then, with a sly wink, he added, “but, it’s so completely worth it, right? On second thought, don’t answer that. He’s your elder and you should respect him. Now, get dressed before our most honorable magistrate blows his lid and keeps you running along behind the wagon in chains.”