The Story of Jimmy
Well I figured I might as well do this sooner or later. This post id the story of on of my favorite Characters. Some of you may know of him and some may not. His name is James Alexander (or to his friends/lovers, Jimmy) and he is the truest practitioner of Adventuring that I have (Chaotic Neutral and all). This is the story of his younger days and I will post it via LJ cut as it is rather long. I know that I tend to wind on at times but please remember that this was my first attempt at writing. So now, without (too much) futher ado, I present to you, for your amusment and bemusment, the story of the Young Jimmy.
Part 1
The Tavern and the Dance
Smiling, the dashing young rogue looked across the table in the corner of a well-to-do inn in one of the better parts of the fair city of El-Turel. She was a healthy looking girl; Girl, Tymora’s Grace she can’t be less than ten years my senior the young man thought to himself. Regardless, the high cheek bones and ample bosom had attracted his attention well before he had a chance to notice the deep brown eyes that had caught him like a pair of bottomless pits. Though what had him ensnared most was the voice that was now filling his ears with sweet crystalline sounds that a more religious man might compare with a chorus of seraphim, but that was not his style. At any rate that same voice now held enough of a husky tone to it that the young man had to assume that his own looks had had a similar effect on her that hers did on him.
“So, you wanted to hear my story hmm?” he asked with a raised bow.
“Is that not what I just said?” those tones seemed to be getting more pronounced.
“Very well then, shall I speak on the time I journeyed alongside a wild druid, and a savage wolf on the mere request of a pretty young lady, simply to retrieve an heirloom of hers, or mayhap you would enjoy the tale of the time I journeyed to the depths of the city to save the life of the Governess herself?”
“Hmm, I have always heard that it was at the beginning, that any story of heroics should start, else how would one know the growth of the hero in question?” The Brown-Eyed-Girl looked at Our Hero with a smile on her face that raised the opinion of James Alexander, oft-time rogue, gambler and any number of other names that might very well send the girl from his company by the fastest possible route.
“That would be a tale for the ages; I think though that my feet are getting a bit restless. Would you object to a turn across the floor before I start a tale that will most likely last the balance of the even in the telling?”
The lady opposite Jimmy seemed to think on it for a moment before nodding her acceptance of the offer. As Jimmy stood up he extended his hand to her with the most charming grin he knew how to but on his face. Smiling herself, the woman placed her hand in Jimmy’s and allowed him to pull her onto her feet and onto the area that had been cleared for the patrons to exercise their feet on. As Jimmy stepped on to the floor, he stopped thinking about how very plump his companion’s bosom was and how very much he wanted to kiss that very generous mouth, and as the old saying that his older brother told him once passed though his head, he entered the dance. Dance with a woman Jimmy, and she’ll give you a kiss, but dance well with her and my boy, she’ll give you so much more. In Jimmy’s case he did have an advantage in that arena than his brother, while Riot preferred the long and bastard swords in his fights, Jimmy had for himself, besides the knives that were at all times on his body in places that no one would think to look for, also a rapier on his hip, and let it be known that no one could be as good with that sword as Jimmy was and not have an excellent sense of both timing and rhythm.
The tune that the minstrels played was one that could be found in any of a hundred taverns and common rooms across the land from the Sword Coast to Thay, and even beyond there, though Jimmy had never been that far himself, and though the name of the tune, and even the words, could change within a days travel, the dance steps themselves were the same anywhere in that same space. It was a simple country dance and Jimmy knew the steps were worked into his boots as he raised his feet for the first set of turns and leaps. He took the time during the dance to work out the girl he was flinging about in his arms, on one hand she was pretty enough to meet any standards that Jimmy may at one time have had, and more than that she seemed to be a slight bit more intelligent than the average tavern wench. But that in and of itself presented Jimmy with a problem all its own, how much of his life should he reveal to the lass when he had hidden his life from all but his brothers and sister. By the time that the tune ended he found himself at the conclusion that he would tell her as much as he had told anyone, he would tell her of his early life, that should be enough for pity sex at the least, but he would not tell any of what he was doing with the silver ring upon his right index finger at any rate.
“Well,” the tavern girl said to him as they exited the floor, “have you decided to tell me what a dashing rogue like you is doing in an inn on this side of the city, or will I have to tell Mistress Errellan that I am ready to return to the tables?”
Jimmy covered his jerk at hearing that come from her mouth with all the grace of a courtier of the Amnish courts, and looked to the bar where the more than stout inn keeper was watching the room and her serving girls all at the same time it seemed.
“I don’t think that you should go speak to the grateful Mistress of this inn right now, but I could use some of that Elven wine to cool my throat before I start the tale.” Truth to tell that woman almost scared him, he had a painful memory of the stout cudgel she kept well hidden in her skirts for anybody that seemed to getting too free with any of her girls. Not that Jimmy was worried that she might remember him, after all that was a long time ago, and based on some of her clientele, Jimmy was sure that she couldn’t remember the face of some little kid after all that time, almost. It was just plain common sense that he shouldn’t press his luck; after all you never knew when Tymora would decide to look away and let her sister control your destiny for a moment.
“Well I suppose that I could fetch you some wine, as long as it doesn’t addle your brains so much as you aren’t good for this story of yours,”
“Don’t worry my dear,” Jimmy replied, “this story couldn’t be drowned in all the wines and liquors of this city.” It wasn’t a lie on his part, not in any way. The sad truth was, the drunker Jimmy got the easier it was to remember the tale he was about to tell. He only really forgot when he was either in the bowels of some deep dark dungeon and trying to figure out some trap before it blew him to bits or killed him in some other grisly manner, or when he was in a pitched battle for his life, other than that the tears were at all times ready to come out at any time he needed them, a useful skill when you were trying to bed some comely wench or blend in with any number of people in various states of poverty and remorse.
As the wench left his side Jimmy started thinking on his past, really thinking about it, it was a habit that he found annoying at times. His past had a remarkable ability to leap into his thoughts whenever it seemed to think convenient.
Part 2
A Birth in Hell
*smack*
“WAAAAA!”
It really wasn’t that uncommon to hear those sounds in a brothel in the poorest part of the poor quarter of Baldur’s Gate. The only reason to remark this one was that for a wonder the cry was not from a woman, indeed it seemed that Alise had finally given birth to her child, the other whores gave a small prayer for the child that he might find a way to escape this place before he was caught in the sin of the underworld of this Gods’ Cursed City, before they returned to their work.
In the small room that had been hastily made into a receiving room for the child, the priest looked at the child he was holding in his arms. A small delving of magic told him that the child would live for a time; at least until he grew large enough, then it was anybody’s guess, but his part was almost done.
“Have you a name for the child?” he asked the mother.
“James.” Breathed Alise, she would not leave him with a family name to remember her by, just as her mother had not given her one upon her birth. “’Is name is James.”
“I anoint you James, in the eyes of the Gods and of the people, so shall you be and so shall you remain.” There, his work was done, now he could get away from this odious hole in the wall and back to the temple. With one last look to the boy, the priest of Beeshaba whispered one last thing to the new born child, “May you find your life untouched by my mistress.” With a sly grin he slunk away. It wasn’t really a part of the birthing ceremony, but he felt that a child brought up in this warren of despair would need all the help he might be able to get. Maybe the keeper of this cesspool would grant him a free ride, on the other hand, looking at both the patrons and the whores he thought that it might not be the best idea he had ever had. But then again there was that whore who had bore the child; she might be worth the risk indeed.
“’E’s beautiful, Alise. With any luck ‘e’ll be able to get away before They get him.” That was Merris; she always seemed to look at things in the best possible light, a hard task considering what they were and where they worked.
“I sure ‘ope that ‘appens Mer, otherwise we’re gonna ‘ave to ‘elp ‘im ourselves and though ‘e is me son, I counna manage it.”
“’E ain’t gonna make it that far.” If Merris always saw sun, then Cherissa saw nothing but the rain. “None of them ever do, lest not in real life, sure in the stories them kids is always gettin’ out’a their scrapes but that’s there, never ‘ere.”
“Oh stop yer pouting Cher, if you never see the good you’ll be ferever in the slumps.” Merris seemed happy even about that.
“Yeah but git yer ‘opes to ‘igh and when they come crashin’ down they crush you wit’em.” This was an old argument between them and not one that Alise wanted her child to hear at this young age.
“Oh Light. Stop it both o’ you. Here I am holding my babe to me breast and you two are goin’ on like nottin else.”
“We’re sorry Alise.” They said in almost unison, that seemed to surprise all of them and soon Alise and Merris were holding each other as tears of laughter rolled down each face. Cherissa even had the grace to smile, a little, even though, in truth’s light, she could see little to smile about.
Part 3
A Change in the Air
Jimmy looked down again, tears rising up against all of his 8 year-old attempts to keep them submerged. He had tried to be strong for so long but looking at the stained clothes and slit throat of his mother always brought them back. Before long he would be like the little kids playing in the street again, crying whenever he skinned a knee or lost in any of the childish games they played. He would not cry!
“It’s alright Jimmy, dear. Don’t cry.” That would be Aunt Merris as she laid her arms around Jimmy’s diminutive frame.
“Don’t coddle the boy Mer; ‘e should learn this early in life. People die.” The simple statement of that and the cold way that Aunt Cherissa stated it had the simple and instant effect of drying Jimmy’s tears almost before he knew what she said.
He took a deep breath through his nose and caught the tale end of the sent that he knew was his mother. And surprisingly even that brought no tears I must be stronger than I thought. Jimmy thought wryly. Aunt Merris took his hand and lead him away from his mother lying in a pool of her own blood in the street a block or so from the brothel that Jimmy knew as his only real home.
“Why didn’t ye tell that Guardsman what ye told me ye saw.” Aunt Merris said to Aunt Cherissa in hushed tones after a moment. Jimmy was trailing behind them and they seemed to think that the young boy wouldn’t hear them.
“Are ye daft woman? Me tell a Guardsman that I ‘ad seen ‘im what done it and that ‘e was-“ she got no further as Jimmy realised what they were saying
“Who, who killed her?!? WHO!” Jimmy screamed at one of the only women in the world that treated him like anything other than a pest.
“Jimmy dear, ye mustn’t think that we-“
“Don’t play that with me Mer. I ‘eard Aunt Cherissa; she said she saw ‘im. I need ta know who it was!” Jimmy realised that he was yelling. He didn’t care; his mother was laying dead not two streets over and someone he thought he could trust was keeping the murderer from him.
Part 4
A Dagger in the Dark
The dark was more oppressive that night than any other that James had ever known, the bed that he had always shared with his mother, emptier. His eyes still stung with unshed tears and a keenly felt lack of sleep. His mind still churned with a fierce passion that seemed to fill his soul and cloud out all other thoughts, in his mind’s eye he could still see the body of the woman who held him when he was sad and laughed with him when he had felt the dry humour of the past in him. Jimmy didn’t think that he would ever laugh again. His mother was dead and he knew that nothing he would ever do could bring her back.
As he turned over in the dark to try to find rest, his keen ears picked up a sound in the night, it was a sound that had filled his mind almost as much as the sight of his mother.
The drunken sailor stepped towards his mother with a fierce light in his eyes. Jimmy was still in the room this time when the man came to his mother,
“What the hell is the brat doing here Bitch?” the rough voice held the accent of a man from Amn in it’s tones, slightly slurred to account for the alcohol on the man’s breath.
“Oh, come on deary, ‘e’ll be movin’ on now won’t ye Jimmy, there’s a good lad.”
As Jimmy left the room that night he heard the unmistakable sound of flesh hitting flesh in an open handed slap and his mother crying out. He didn’t think about trying to help her, she had told him that she could handle any who came into her chambers. He had believed her, then.
The next morning he had been woken up by Aunt Cherissa with tears in her eyes telling him that something terrible had happened.
Later that day he had been told who had done it, who had killed his mother,
Now Jimmy could hear that voice again inside his home, inside the only place that had ever sheltered the young boy. Though he could no longer seem to find shelter in the brothel, it seemed to reek of the filth that had watched as his mother had been beaten and then murdered, and had done nothing to stop it. The voice was calling out for his latest mistress to come and pleasure him.
“Come on over girl, don’t you worry I won’t hurt ye too much. Hehe!”
Jimmy wanted to scream, somehow in his soul; Jimmy knew that someone was going to die again tonight. Suddenly Jimmy leapt up out of his small bed, he had had an epiphany, and he knew now what he must do. No one else must die this night, tomorrow none would wake to find a loved one buried or in an alley waiting the earth. Tonight Jimmy would end both the scourge of his home, and the crying of his soul. Jimmy would kill the man with The Voice.
Jimmy crept out of bed and moved to the floorboards underneath looking for the ones that were loose where he had hidden a knife long ago. Prying them up he took the dagger and moved to the door, opening it he silently thanked the keeper of the house as she ensured that all the door hinges were properly oiled and did not squeak. Then moving down the hallway to the sounds coming from one of the rooms, it seemed that the house had only one customer tonight. And his moans on this night would draw Jimmy to him to exact the holy penance for the murder of his mother.
Jimmy managed to reach the door with the light beneath the frame without making a sound to be heard over the cries of the Condemned. Ever so slowly Jimmy reached out and grasped the handle to try and see of it was locked or not. What luck, the boy though finding that the door was unlatched in any way. It wouldn’t really have been a problem had he found it locked, the House was in the habit of leaving ways to open the doors should they be latched so people could remove things in the still of the night should there be a problem with payment from a customer. Jimmy opened the door and looked in to see the man who had killed his mother.
Lying upon the bed was the source of all of Jimmy’s problems, A large coarse man with more hair on his body than skin it seemed, his face was large and thick dominated in large part by a nose that seemed to have been broken about ten times to many. James couldn’t have weighed more than one of his legs, he was thick with knotted muscles and there seemed to be not an ounce of fat on his whole frame. But all of that did not matter to the young lad who was thinking of the morning three days past when he looked upon the body of his mother and now he realised something, in the background of the crowd there had stood a man who was looking at his mother then. That man had had a smile across his broad face and a gleam in his eye that Jimmy had seen on the faces of blacksmiths when looking at something that they had created that day. Thinking back on that Jimmy realised now and forever that this man was guilty of the murder of his mother without any shadow of a doubt. Before Jimmy could run in screaming to try to plunge the dagger into the body of his enemy, he took a step back and thought about it in a different light. It was a thing that he did often and had served him well in the past. He realised that the man must die tonight before he could kill this whore too, but if Jimmy could manage to wait until the man was sleeping or too drunk to do anything then the boy might have a chance, as it was now the man seemed to be in the height of his energy and would more than likely kill Jimmy before he had even crossed half the room.
Jimmy waited. He did not sleep, he just thought out what must be done. As the pair continued their dance of passion and lust, Jimmy sat there and thought he thought of all the possibilities and what he could do to counter them. Three times during the course of the night someone walked past him without seeing him, so still was his pose. As the night drew on the sounds within the room that Jimmy held his vigil over grew silent, as Jimmy waited they finally ceased altogether.
Five minutes, ten, fifteen, Jimmy waited until he could be sure that both the occupants where sleeping and he could sneak in without being heard.
A snore issued from the room had Jimmy up from his post and at the door in an eye blink. Finally the man was sleeping and vulnerable,
Jimmy eased the door open and slipped into the room without making more nose than a mouse, he had been a member of the silent working parties that were used to lift objects from the customers that had objected to paying in the past. He knew how to move silently in the night. Now he used all that knowledge to his advantage as he moved through the night like a phantom. Jimmy held the knife in a hand curiously free of the clammy feeling that he was expecting. Indeed his hands were free of any shake or feeling of nerves.
Stepping over towards to the snores in the night, Jimmy raised his hand without the knife. He needed to feel the body of the man before him, the throat must be cut before he could wake and kill the young lad. A touch here and there produced some abnormal snores but mostly the man just went off back to sleep. Finally Jimmy found the bit of flesh that signalled the throat of the murderous bastard.
The knife flashed in the night, and a bright spray of red life flowed from the whole cut into the man’s throat. A scream ripped the gentle calm of the night as the whore woke to see her lover dieing in the same bed as her with Jimmy watching with a cool look upon his face.
Jimmy stayed there listening to the screams and watching the life fade from the Murderer and he was waiting there when the guardsmen came and took him away to the jailhouse. Jimmy was calm through it all as he re-lived the night over and over again through the night and on into the day.
Part 5
A Strange Occurrence
The Magistrate looked down over his desk at the young boy sitting in his office, he had the record of what had happened at the whore-house and though there seemed to be some things missing, it was a fairly clear cut case.
“Young man do you have anything to say in your defence?” the Magistrate was known to be a fair man who judged his cases on the merit of those speaking, even though he worked in the most depraved of districts in the city, he had never in his twenty-five years of service had taken a bribe or anything to besmirch his honourable reputation. As he looked at the boy in front of him he saw a spark of intellect and what seemed to be regret in the young boys face.
“Very well, since you seem to wish to keep your own council, James you stand accused of the act of murder against the person of Jacob deWaricks of the city and country of Amn. How do you plead?”
“’E killed me mum.” It was the first time that the Magistrate had heard the boy speak, this might make for more work in the long run but in the end justice would be served.
“Do you have any proof of that James?’
“Me Aunt, she saw ‘im.” The boy muttered
“Who is this Aunt that did see this young man? If we can confirm that the man did commit murder in the first place we might be able to save you.”
“It was Aunt Cherissa, she worked wit me mum and Aunt Merris too.”
“Guardsman, would you go to the house in question and retrieve the women mentioned please? When you return this court will resume.” Motioning some of the other guardsmen over to his desk the Magistrate asked them to see that the boy was washed and brought to his chambers, there were a few questions that he wanted to ask the boy before the women were brought to the court.
Jimmy walked through the halls of the courthouse in something less of a daze than earlier, the bath had helped, it really did feel better to be clean and wearing clean clothes he decided. But more than that something else was happening, Jimmy felt that he might actually get out of this alive, Jimmy knew what happened to all the murderers that were caught in that area, he had watched them hanging from the gallows in the square not far from the brothel. He had been expecting that he would be joining the next group after what he had done last night. He had been caught in the room with a blood stained knife in his hands and blood on all his clothes , there should have been no way to get out of it all. And yet here he was not in jail but instead walking down the halls of a real palace with clean clothes and only one guardsman at his back. At the end of the hall a door was standing open and through the opening he could see the Magistrate sitting in a large chair seemingly watching him approach.
As they neared the door, Jimmy felt a bit of nerves that had him feeling like he might want to try to make a break for it, yet some impulse in him stilled the idea before it could come to fruition. He took a deep breath and kept walking,
Inside the room was the magistrate and, more important to his young mind, food! The smells almost overwhelmed the young lad as he took in the sight before him, ham, rich brown bread, bacon, even what looked to be real oranges covered the small table in front of the kindly looking old man. With a nod from the magistrate Jimmy started in on the food in earnest. The bread was warm with no trace of chaff or dirt unlike the bread e was used to back home, the ham seemed to be of the finest cut as he stuffed a few slices down his throat, and the bacon was the crispest and most delicious meat he’s ever tasted.
Then, his adolescent hunger sated for the moment, Jimmy looked about him, the room he was in seemed to be well provisioned, the carpets were richly embroidered and seemed thick enough to help hold in some warmth, there were several portraits hung on the walls, they seemed to all be of old men with grey beards and moustaches and all of them seemed very stern and unforgiving, not at all like the old man who was watching Jimmy observe his chambers right now, Jimmy decided that he liked the old man and would rather that he be here than the old men in the pictures.
Quite suddenly Jimmy was aware of the old man watching him; slowly so as to not appear to care too much, Jimmy turned his head and looked at this old gentleman a bit more. The Magistrate had a bit more than an air of dignity about him; his robes seemed rich for all the fact that they seemed almost as old as the man who wore them; the hair which covered his head was a pale silvery colour in the morning light that pored from the windows. The eyes that were now peering at him from behind what looked like small windows with wire frames held a sharp look of intelligence and wit as well as a humorous glint.
“Well now James,” The voice of the Magistrate brought Jimmy out of his reverie, “I have a few questions that I must ask before continuing the course of the trial. First I need to be sure that you are completely aware of what transpired in the room of the Hostel that you lived in, are you?”
“’Course I know what ‘appin’d, I kill’d ‘im.” Jimmy said without any pride in his voice, there seemed to be more guilt there than anything else.
“Yes James, but it strikes me that you must have had reason, you said something in the court room of your mother being murdered by this man, what do you know of that?”
“T’was about four days ago, I think, me mother was killed by someone in the night, me aunt said that it was the man I killed.”
“You don’t go and kill people off of what you aunt says do you? You know something else don’t you? You saw something else didn’t you?” The Magistrate had sensed something else in the young lad but he couldn’t put his finger on it, he had had this kind of feeling before and it had always proven a good feeling.
“It was the night before,” Jimmy said hesitantly, “me mum was going wit this man and he says to her to git me out’a the room, as I was leavin’ the room I ‘eard ‘im ‘it ‘er, then the next morning while I was cryin’ over me mum I saw ‘im, ‘e looked like he was pleased wit something, like something he made at that.” Jimmy was loosing control thinking about the morning he saw his mother in the alley, the tears were beginning to flow and as much as he wanted to, he couldn’t stop them; rubbing at his face Jimmy looked back at the Magistrate. The old man had on a look like that of a concerned father, watching his only son going through troubled times.
“And this man, the one that you killed, he was the same man that you saw at your mother’s body?”
“Aye, ‘e was.” Jimmy could no longer hold back the tears that welled up inside him, he turned around and hid his face in his sleeve, silently willing his body to obey and stop crying. Only his body was not listening to him. Jimmy lost track of how long he sat like that.
John Patrick MacIntyre, a Magistrate of twenty-five years and long time counsel of defence before that looked at the lad who sat in front of him trying to hold back a deluge of tears, trying and failing. Pat thought that the lad must not have cried since his mother had been killed. Pat knew most all the particulars in this case, his judgement was in this case finished, only if the child was completely lying would he change him mind, and while the display in front of him seemed to indicate that the boy was honest, he had seen more convincing acts from worse men, as such he needed to be sure.
The man that the boy had killed was known to Pat, he had longed to bring the man into his courtroom and pronounce a sentence not unlike the one that this child had brought down upon the man, Jacob deWaricks was the worst type of man, a rough hustling, lying, cheating, murderer, a man who, until recently had managed to avoid the hand of justice. Pat though that he had gotten no more than he deserved in the end. Still that did not mean that he could let the boy go, should he do that he might just make for himself another deWaricks, another man who thought that he could get away with anything. However the thought of placing this child into the local jailhouse was almost as bad, that place would turn him out to be potentially worse than the man that the boy had killed. What Pat needed was something like what he had worked out for that young pick-pocket that he had dealt with, what was his name, oh yes that’s right, Riot, a strange name for any child, but that red-headed boy had certainly deserved it if any did. Maybe he could get in touch with the Alexander’s, they might know of someone who could take in the boy. Certainly Riot’s “crime” wasn’t near as bad as this James’ all that Riot had done was to try to pinch Pat’s pocket and run, but still maybe he could find a home for James, for that was what the boy truly needed, a place to belong.
Pat’s thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door to his office; it was the guardsman he had sent to retrieve the boy’s aunts.
“Yes, what is it?” Pat asked.
“Sir, it’s the ladies ye asked fer.”
“Fine, show them in, thank you.”
“Yessir.”
The guard let the two ladies in to the room, obviously they had been given time to “freshen up,” Pat was glad for than at least. The lad had almost gagged him with the stench of his skin when he first was shown into the court room. These ladies didn’t seem to truly know why they were here inside the chambers, though for the moment they were occupied staring at the furnishings of Pat’s room. Pat took the time thus given evaluating his latest visitors. Both of the ladies could have passed for hansom in Pat’s book had they not had on enough makeup to cover anything that might resemble skin, the two could be drow for all he could tell through the makeup on their faces. Still they carried themselves with more grace and poise than most of their profession and they did seem to have a good idea of what goes on around them. Pat decided that he might as well get up and present himself.
“Ladies I am the Magistrate and I-“ was as far as he got before the two began talking.
“Oh sir please don’t be sendin’ the lad to dem gallows, ‘is poor mother would be turnin’ over in ‘er grave should that ‘appen.” Said the first one while right on top of her the other began going on
“Sir please let us ‘elp wit anything we can, if there’s a penance to pay fer the boy we’ll gladly got about ourselves.” Both the ladies we talking so fast that Pat could barely manage to get a word in edgewise.
“Ladies, ladies,” he was trying to say however they kept right on with out even seeming to notice. Finally he went over to his desk and rang the gong on it as loudly as possible; it worked as they did finally shut their mouths. “Ladies I have brought you here, not to try to brutalize this child in front of you, but to instead ask you a few questions, do we understand one another?” His voice was a bit more constrained than was normal but at any rate they seemed to be paying attention to him.
“Oh but sir ‘e’s just a lad, and we do try to take as good a care o’ ‘im as we can but ye must understand that times are hard fer us what with Alise ‘avin’ just passed on and all.”
Alise must have been the name of the mother then, thought Pat to himself, Well times may be tough for you, my dears but at least she doesn’t have to worry about them, and if I have any say in the matter, this child will be safe from them until he reaches his majority, which can’t be less than 10 years away for now.
“Ladies if you would have a seat please we can continue this more comfortably. And also please feel free to break your fast here.” He said pointing to the table laden with food, only slightly diminished by the hunger of a young lad. The two women looked at the table with a hunger only slightly less fierce than that of the young James, and Pat thought it a shame that people should have to live like that in hunger while others were throwing food away for lack of appetite.
After a few moments of watching the women stuff their faces Pat coughed to draw their attention back to him, after regaining their attention he began
“Now the young James here says that one of you told him that someone had killed his mother, which one of you was that?” The two looked at each other for a moment and then one of them raised her hand.
“That would have been me sir, I didn’t mean nottin by it sir.”
“I am not trying to get either of you into trouble miss...”
“Cherissa sir.”
“And what is your last name miss Cherissa?”
“Don’t rightly know sir, beggin yer pardon, but me and Merris was born inta th’ business ye might say. And so was Alise, Gods bless her soul.”
“And this Alise was young James’ mother I take it?”
“Yessir, killed she was just four days ago.”
“And could you name or describe the man who killed her?”
“Well I don’t know as I could name ‘im but I sure could describe ‘im, ‘e was a big man with big ‘airy arms and a great wide nose. Seemed that ‘e was always laughin at some private joke, and it wasn’t like one o’ them ye tell to the ladies if I knew ‘im aright.”
“Very well, for the record I in fact knew this man; that is not to say that he was a friend or anything, far from it in fact. His name was Jacob deWaricks, and he was just about the most vile of men, I doubt that either of you have met worse than him. Though you have probably met his equal, based on where you live. At any rate he will not disgrace your home again, however the law demands some form of punishment. Therefore I shall make my pronouncement in the court room, I think that you shouldn’t need to walk back to your home, though, the trial will resume tomorrow and as such I shall provide a carriage home and another in the morning for the finalities.” With that Pat issued instructions for the guardsmen to see the ladies home and for the lad to be brought to the guest chambers and a guard placed around the room, that was for the necessity of the law, James being held under guard and all. Still Pat saw no need to force the child to be held in the jailhouse at all. That would simply not do at all.
After the women had left and James had been escorted out, Pat sat down at his desk and began penning a letter to Mrs. Alexander, she must know of someone who could take care of the boy.
Part 6
To All Things, A Change Must Come
The next morning Jimmy woke early as was his habit. He had always woken early, though he was somewhat relieved to be still in the rooms that the kind old Magistrate had provided him. A quick peek out the door told him that there was still a guard standing out side, though this one was different than the one who had been there last night. Jimmy really didn’t mind, the only thing that had him annoyed was that he couldn’t leave the room without the guard accompanying him, still the room was far better than anything he had known in the brothel that he grew up in.
Jimmy looked around for the wash basin and pitcher, he couldn’t remember where the guard had told him they were last night. Finally he found them in a cupboard underneath a glass mirror that had fascinated the boy the night before, the image in it was so clear it had surprised Jimmy into thinking that there was another person in the room with him. Jimmy now began washing up with the water in the bowl and then finishing up he began dressing back into the clothes that he had worn the day before, then he remembered that they had given him some other clothes in the large cabinet on the wall near to the bed. When Jimmy opened the doors he found that he had been given several sets of clothes, picking one set that he especially like, Jimmy then began getting dressed for this last day. He wasn’t sure what all was going on, he had only caught bits and pieces of the conversation that his Aunts had had with the Magistrate, he had been busy watching the fountains in the courtyard of the palace through the window of the room yesterday, but from what he had heard it seemed that he wasn’t going to be hung like all the others that committed murder, he wasn’t sure what exactly was happening, but he had a feeling that things might just turn out for the best in the end.
A knock at the door preceded the head of the guardsman as he looked to see if Jimmy was ready, finding that he was he cleared his voice and said, “Well then, come on, ye’ve got a date in the court room and the Magistrate’s not one to be kept waiting.”
Jimmy walked over to the door and out into the hall. Walking down the hallway Jimmy looked about him, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was going to happen today that would change his life, nor could he shake the feeling that he would have a life to change at the end of the day. Still, Jimmy had a suspecting dread that he would have to leave his home behind, and while this might not be a bad idea, it was the only home that Jimmy had ever had and he was not sure what kind of home he would receive next, or even if he would receive one at all. He began to worry a bit as his boyish mind began to churn over any number of possibilities and outcomes.
Then all of a sudden his time to think was over as he stood before the doors to the great hall. Here it was, the time had come, time to stand up and face the crowd, what was it that that red-headed boy had told him once? Oh yes, when ye reach the gallows bow to the crowd, toss a coin to the ‘angman and tell a joke to death, they can kill ye, but at least they can’t kill yer humour.
Pat was sitting at his more official desk as the doors opened, he took one last look to the front row and received the nod that he had a feeling he would, that woman was nothing if not kind hearted. Hopefully she would be able to take care of the young boy, even though he had not known the boy for more than a few hours he genuinely like him. It would be a shame to have to meet with child again in this court room.
As James stepped up to the place where one’s sentence is pronounced, Pat noticed that the boy seemed remarkably calm and collected, again he was struck with how intelligent the boy was, there was certainly the makings of a fine young man in there. If only he could be kept out of trouble for a few years, he might just manage to make something of himself, something that his dead mother could be proud of. And if anyone was qualified to do just that, then it was the Alexander’s, Pat knew of no one better for the job.
Now as the court stood assembled in the room, Pat’s job became that much clearer.
“Now here ye all here, know ye that James, son of Alise did wrongfully commit murder in the city of Baulder’s Gate, and having confessed his deed is now subject to the will of this court and to any and all punishment that shall be decided,” Pat stopped a moment to take a breath, the beginning was done, there was no need for the formalities in this last part. “it is the will of this court that James be removed from the House of his upbringing and placed in somewhere more suitable to his needs, therefore, James, you have been given leniency due to the nature of what you have done and the person whom you have killed, be that as it may this court is a subject of law as any other and we cannot, therefore, go without some form of arrest or restraint.”
Now the hardest part, the law demanded that James be removed from his former life and confined for a period up to ten years, though Pat had decided that that amount of time was too great, still this would not be as easy as it might.
“James, would you please rise as your sentence is read? Ladies and gentlemen of this court, it is our decision that you be removed from all ties to your former life and placed in the custody of Mr. and Mrs. Alexander, for a period of not less than 7 years. They have proven that they are willing and able to deal with young men of your particular type to this court and have been judged capable of handling such people as you in the past. Now this court is not without a heart and you shall be granted rights of visitation with those whom you at one time counted friends and family once every tenday. Such is my ruling and so shall it stand.”
Part 7
A New Home
Time passes, things happen.
Jimmy ran through the house, again, his 13 year-old body was growing at a rate only matched by his wit. In the five years that he had been living with the Alexander’s he had realised that there were better things in life than could be dreamed of in any young boy’s fantasy. But of all the things that he had found, none were better for him than his new brother, Riot was little more than a thief and a scoundrel, all the same Jimmy would have fought his way through the pits of the Nine Hells and back on a bet for him, and Jimmy knew that the same could be said on the other side as well. Jimmy and Riot were the perfect compliments to each other, whatever one overlooked, the other thought of, whatever one missed the other saw. Riot had helped Jimmy develop the skills that he had made working as a night boy in the brothel to a fine edge, he still wasn’t quite as good as Riot, but he was still a terror.
There were four children living in the house all together, there was the oldest, (and the only real Alexander) Drake, he was always the fighter, always willing to stand up and fight, were as Jimmy and Riot were as likely to try, and most likely succeed in, some underhanded trick. Riot was the next oldest, older than Jimmy by two years or so. Then there was Trouble, Trouble was the little sister, always in some sort of trouble or something, hence her name. She had told Jimmy that when she was in the orphanage she had been left without a name, and the people who worked there had tried to give her one, but none of them stuck, then someone made the offhand comment that trouble followed the girl like it was her name, and suddenly the name had stuck. Of all of his siblings Trouble was the one that Jimmy looked out for more than any, it wasn’t that she didn’t know how to handle herself or anything, after all she had Drake, Riot, and Jimmy teaching her anything that she wanted to know, no for Jimmy it was something else, he could never put a finger on what it was about her, but he knew that if he didn’t watch out for her she just might end up like his old mother, and that was something that Jimmy would never allow to befall his little sister.
All in all, Jimmy was happy, he had found out some time ago that Merris had managed to marry on of the guardsman that was at the court house that had been the changing point in his young life. Though Cherissa had died of some fever not too long after that, still it was nice to know that he was not the only person to get out of that cesspool because of his crime. Many times Jimmy would think back and remember his mother, though that was getting harder, he found that he couldn’t always quite remember what she looked like, still though late at nights, sometimes, he would lie awake and see only the image of his mother lying in the alleyway covered in he own blood, Jimmy once tried to counter that thought with the thought of the man who killed her, lying in the bed with his throat cut, but that just made it worse.
Jimmy was still happy though, he had enough to eat, he was warm in the winter and not too hot in the summer, and he wore clean clothes and had not a care in the world. Finally in the end he ended up deciding like his brothers and sister that he would take the life of the road and travel the lands in search of fame, gold, fortune and if possible a friendly pair of legs to rest his head upon or between. His talents led him to this decision in their own way as much as possible, he felt that he would be better served to go down the road of the adventurer than he would should he try his hand at any of the possible “Honest” trades that might be available to a young man such as he.
Part 7
Back in the Tavern
Jimmy wiped the tears from his eyes as the memories finally receded from conscious thought, the woman sitting opposite him in his room raised from her position and moved to embrace the young rogue. Inwardly Jimmy smiled, his night would be spent well he thought, he might even find himself a companion if he performed well. Still the process of the telling had drained him a fair amount, it was always such for him whenever his subconscious brought the tale to his mind. It was always there, he knew but he had long been able to avoid thinking about his own past by concentrating on his work, but on nights like this, the memories had over flooded him, it was strange he could still remember his mother’s smell almost 14 years after her death and his long stay at the Alexander’s house, he even thought of himself as an Alexander, but he could never forget where he had come from, that was something that he would carry with him for the rest of his life, something that he would carry into the grave.
The woman sitting on the side of his bed with him was now stroking his hair as though she might be comforting a small child. And in his current state, Jimmy supposed that it wasn’t that far from the truth. Jimmy gathered his wits about him and turned to face her.
“Well, that is who I am; I have passed myself in front of you for your pleasure.” Jimmy was trying to smile but the memories that have flooded out of him had tired his control of his facilities. As such the best he could manage was something resembling a weak chuckle.
“Oh my poor, poor man, I wish that I could have been there to ease your pain.”
“You’re here now.” Jimmy knew that the cards were all in his hand, all he had to do now was to play them in the right order.
“Yes my dear, I am here. You have been through so much; I only hope that what I offer is sufficient compensation for what you have gone through.”
That night was a very good night.