Raised By Wolves 1 - Brethren by Raised by Wolves 01 Read Free Book Online

they called him, was the leader and the oldest.
    The youngest could not have been more than six or so. They were thin and barefoot, with tattered clothes. I wondered why they were not begging on a city street instead of hiding in a barn in the countryside.
    Then I remembered most of the city was missing, and there had been the plague.
    We huddled around a small and carefully maintained fire, and supped on a pair of rabbits the boys had, and the sausage, cheese, and bread I was carrying. To pass the time, I asked why they were there. They told me a number of tales. All had been thrown out by their families, or orphaned outright by the plague or other misfortune. They huddled in this barn due to everything from the fear of press gangs to the threat of gaol or death.
    I knew well enough there was no place for them. I guessed they had brethren all over England. Times were difficult. There was little honest employment to be had, even for those who were skilled, and people were starving as a result. Unless a family worked the land and had need of an extra pair of hands, young boys they could not apprentice off were not worth feeding for many families.
    I looked at the little ring of soot-smeared faces in the flicker of firelight, and wondered what would become of them. I pondered what I could do to aid their cause. They trusted no one, and I knew of no one I would trust with their welfare. I was also sure they would resent, if not rebel against, any attempt to tame them now that they had gone feral.
    I dozed cautiously that night, because I knew if they were truly cunning they would rob me in my sleep. And indeed, I found myself being observed for a lapse in vigilance several times. Even though I was weary to the bone, I grudgingly applauded them.
    Between naps, I recalled many a thing my tutor, Rucker, had said concerning social classes and the duties and responsibilities of nobility.
    My father would have been absolutely appalled if he had ever heard much of what Rucker imparted to my impressionable ears. I had learned that setting wolves to guard sheep is never good for the sheep. That lesson had been reinforced by observing and listening to my father when he held discourse with his peers. Wolves all, they cared not for those they governed. They made policies to suit themselves, and complained bitterly when any attempted to defy them. Even under Cromwell, when they had not quite maintained the power they had before, they had still been wolves; and the structure of the government mattered little.
    I had seen the workings of the nobility throughout my travels, as I had lived amongst the courts and those that would be my peers by station of birth. I had avoided the poor, as I had not wished to see the effects of noble machinations. I had not wanted to see because, as with these boys, there was nothing I could do but toss them a coin. I could not give them all work. I could not educate them. I could not free them from the bondage of poverty or peasantry.
    In the deep hours of the night just before dawn, I was distracted from further attempts at slumber by quiet rustling in the straw. The noise was sustained and rhythmic, and I guessed the activity involved.
    As I continued to listen, my suspicion was confirmed by a series of small grunts followed by a cessation of all sound, except for a series of very quiet wet kisses and a few whispered words. I knew from the location, and his age, that one of the participants was Big John. I assumed the other to be the next oldest boy, as they had been very close and caring with one another throughout the meal and conversation that followed.
    For a moment, the knowledge of their union filled me with aching loneliness tinged with a bit of nostalgia. I was pleased that in their dismal lives they at least had someone to hold and rub against in the cold and dark. Then old memories rose from the grave, and it was all I could do not to flee as fear clutched at my bowels and my heart raced.
    My first