Kre nodded mutely, afraid to speak any words in case his voice showed the nervousness he had from imagining that very scene. He looked over the gifted clothes again and wondered if they were too nice for traveling. Mr. Koraski seemed to sense his hesitation and chuckled.
“She only expects you to wear them for a little ways out of town. The original intent was that you have them ready for… well, the trial. Put your best foot forward and all that. We thought that it couldn’t hurt to show that same pride as you leave Mintas. You’re not leaving as a criminal or a suspected murderer, but as an honored son of our little town.
“Pete packed up some of your clothes from home, along with a few other essentials, and they’re all packed up with the wagon. There are a few other extra things too,” he said with a sly wink, “from other folks in town. We’d all be honored if you’d consider them to be your commencement gifts.”
Kre shook his head once, trying to make sense of the last couple of words. Commencement gifts. It’s not unheard of for folks in the town to give gifts of appreciation or of support to young men and women as they moved into adulthood, whether in this town or elsewhere. When Noj left, some of the townsfolk had pooled together and given him enough money to buy a proper sword, balanced for his own hand. Fieder, Welter’s friend, had decided to stay in Mintas and each of the town’s ranchers had given him one of their stock to help start his own ranch.
The way most folks around here saw it, the commencement gifts were something of an investment, a form of communal assurances against potential rough times ahead. By giving to those who are just starting out, there’s a certain understanding that the elders will be taken care of when they can no longer handle the rigors required of a regular job.
Still, Kre couldn’t help but think that the townsfolk were a bit misguided in their belief that he was moving to any stage of adulthood where he would be a contributing member of society. He wasn’t about to commence anything other than a trial to determine if his case was to be heard and judged by the Citadel or if his current trial was to be found valid. He had no doubts how the civilian trial would end up, and odds were good that even if the Citadel deigns to take the case, they’d find him guilty of murder as well given all of the evidence that Braun was bringing along. Kre gave himself a less than two percent chance of making it out as a free man.
“Hurry that boy up! We’re losing light here!” yelled a shrill voice from out front of the Lodge. Kre briefly wondered how his odds might change if Braun and his evidence never made it to the Citadel but tried to discard that thought as quickly as it came into his mind.
Mrs. Koraski, however, was well on her way to making Kre’s morbid thought a reality as she stormed out of the kitchen wielding a massive wooden rolling pin. “Why that little devil-spawn,” she hissed loudly.
“On that note,” Mr. Koraski said hurriedly as he tried to keep his wife from charging out the door, “Kre, you best change now and get outside. We’ll get the last of the travel rations packed up and meet you out front.” With a clear task at hand, Mrs. Koraski relaxed and smoothed the folds of her apron with her free hand. Once her attire was once more perfect, she spun on her heel and walked briskly back to the kitchen, her husband following closely behind. That left Kre once again alone in the main hall of the Lodge, a room that had always been full of energy and excitement every other time he had been here.