“You’ll take your food over there,” Dain gestured with his off hand. He waved towards a table furthest from the fire where a few other ill-clothed youths were sitting together. “When Beleg returns from his ablutions, make certain that the kitchen brings out two plates at once or he will be most cross.”
“His what?” Kre asked.
Dain’s hand shifted quickly to ready a backhand, but Kre quickly ducked out of the way and apologized profusely for his error.
“Once I’m done eating, I’ll take my own bath and then retire to my room. See that I’m not disturbed until late morning.” Dain resumed his meal and put all of his attention back into his book, ignoring Kre completely as if he no longer existed.
Although he knew that it was a part of the act, it still stung quite a bit. Being treated so poorly was a feeling that he resolved never to inflict on anyone. He made his way over to the servant’s table and sat down at the empty end of the table. The serving girl soon brought over a plate with a stale piece of bread and a handful of bones with barely any meat on them.
‘So, this is servant’s grub,’ he sighed to himself. He picked up a bone, examined it to see what kind of animal it might have once been, and dropped it back on his plate without any clue as to what kind of meat it was.
He soon noticed that the other youths had stopped their whispered conversation and were all staring at him. As the newcomer this wasn’t unexpected, but then he noticed that of the six of them at the table, only one had an empty plate in front of him. He determined that it was likely that none of the others had gotten any supper at all.
Kre tore off a small piece of bread for himself and then slid his plate towards the others. “Don’t let my master see,” he said in a hushed, conspiratorial whisper.
That was all it took before five hands darted out and cleared his plate of any morsel of food. “Dolf,” the nearest boy said, holding out the hand that wasn’t clutching the bone.
“Kre,” he replied, shaking the boy’s hand. He noted that despite the boy’s size, his grip was strong.
“You have one of the good ones,” Dolf said in return, flicking his eyes towards Dain. “Most don’t care enough to remember that we need to eat too.”
“He only does that because he needs me healthy enough to carry all his damn books,” Kre muttered back. “Which one’s yours?”
Dolf shook his head, “He ain’t in here. Takes his meal and off to the gamblin’ he goes.”
One of the others shrugged almost sympathetically and raised a completely cleaned bone in a mock salute, “Here’s hopin’ he wins.”
“Ain’t no matter,” Dolf shrugged, “win or lose, he still takes it out on me for bein’ a burden an all.”
“Sounds like a right proper ass,” Kre muttered. He set his bread down in front of him and offered a wager to the assembled boys, “This heel for the most abused of us all.”
The sudden smiles and snickers around the table were all the thanks he needed for bringing just a little bit of fun to this poorly treated group.