The Remembered - By E. H. Lorenzo Page 0,100

bit, he took note of his situation and realized that it was not good. He was a very long way from home, without a horse and without money. At least his belly was full for the time being.

John picked up his muddy cloak and retrieved his knife. With no money, there was no point in going to Rainham, so John instead headed north. After walking for several miles he became aware of blisters forming on his heels and toes. The boots that he was wearing were good for riding, but not much for walking.

It was well after dark by the time that he reached Epping. The meal that he had eaten earlier in the day seemed like a distant memory and the hunger that he was starting to feel was as unusual to his experience as a drought was in England. His feet were feeling raw from the blisters and so he found a small stream to rinse them off and to ease the pain. The water was cold, but had a soothing effect on his sores.

Since he didn't have any money, he would have to spend the night outside. He couldn't remember the last time that he had done that, or whether he ever had done so. John studied the dark sky and could see some stars, so he expected that it probably wouldn't rain. He found a smooth place beneath an oak tree, and since he didn't know how to build a fire, he laid down, wrapped his cloak around himself and tried to sleep. It was a cold night and seemed to him that he didn't get any sleep at all. John thought about Agnes and he longed to be beside her in a warm bed. He wasn't certain that he had ever been as cold as he was that night.

As the night passed, it became colder, until the biting chill drove John from his bed. He decided that he could only stay warm if he was walking, so he wrapped his cloak more tightly about himself and started walking the road in the same direction that he had been walking before dark.

Mercifully, the morning eventually came, and the sun rose, but it wasn't any warmer and it wasn't much easier to see. A fog had enveloped the area, making it impossible to see more than a hundred yard. Nevertheless, John welcomed the glowing rays of the sun with more gladness and appreciation that he had ever felt before. He was limping now from the constant pain in his feet. At mid morning, he decided that the only way to get relief from the pain was to cut out the offending portions of the boots. Sitting on a rock, he removed his boots and with his knife he cut out a portion of each heel. He also removed a small oval of leather where the big toe rubbed and a similar oval from where the little toe rubbed. He was pleased with the results when he put the boots back on.

As he stood to continue on the road, he saw something moving faintly in the fog across the field. He could make out a group of four shapes and knew that they must be horses and riders. The group was coming nearly directly to him. Soon the riders were close enough that John could make out two men and two women. His heart was cheered at the prospect of meeting people of his own station in life and receiving sustenance from them.

As the group drew near, John called out to them, 'Oy, kind sirs and ladies.' The group slowed their horses to a walk and stopped near him. 'I am 'appy to see you,' said John. 'I am John Darby of Stamford, a merchant of the Staple of Calais. I 'ave lost me 'orse and 'ave been robbed. Please, I am 'ungry and tired.'

The group looked on him with disgust and one of the men said to the others, 'Luk at this beggar covered in mud and shoes with 'oles. 'e is repulsive.'

'Aye,' agreed the other man. 'Shall we fetch the dogs?'

John stood erect and addressed the group again with more urgency. 'I am John Darby of Stamford. I am 'ungry and tired. Please gud sirs, I must eat.'

The group laughed and one of the women said to the men, 'Per'aps we culd get 'im a lit'le food.'

'Nay,' responded one of the men. 'it is too far back to the 'ouse. Whot 'ave we to do with

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