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    Crispin: The End of Time
    Crispin: The End of Time
    Crispin: The End of Time
    Ebook196 pages3 hours

    Crispin: The End of Time

    By Avi

    3.5/5

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    About this ebook

    As long as I could keep myself out of bondage, I would be true to Bear's teaching. And so it was that beyond all else, I was determined to keep my freedom.

    After the death of their beloved mentor, Bear, Crispin and Troth are more desperate than ever, wandering the desolate French countryside, where they don't speak the language and know no one. The only hope they cling to is that somehow they can reach Iceland, where Bear had said there were no kings or lords, and where they can live in freedom. Crispin is determined to fulfill this dream, both for himself and to honor Bear's memory. But the road to liberty is filled with danger, betrayal, and loss. Crispin must decide for himself what freedom really means—and how high a price he is willing to pay for it.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherHarperCollins
    Release dateJun 15, 2010
    ISBN9780061999635
    Author

    Avi

    Avi is the award-winning author of more than eighty-two books for young readers, ranging from animal fantasy to gripping historical fiction, picture books to young adult novels. Crispin: The Cross of Lead won the Newbery Medal, and The True Confessions of Charlotte Doyle and Nothing but the Truth were awarded Newbery Honors. He is also the author of the popular Poppy series. Avi lives in Denver, Colorado. Visit him online at avi-writer.com.

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    Reviews for Crispin

    3.5/5

    678 ratings61 reviews

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    • 4/5
      It is medieval times in England. Being a peasant is a harsh life. Known only as "Asta's son" and only having his mother to provide and raise him, this is the only life this 13 year old boy knows.When his mother dies, life becomes harder, and when he is declared a 'wolf's head' for a crime he didn't commit, life looks like it may be impossible. You see, being a "wolf's head" means that you can be killed on sight by anyone! The only way to stay alive is for "Asta's son" to leave the village and go far away.Being found by a man whose appearance matches his name of Bear, Asta's son becomes Bear's apprentice. Bear is a travelling entertainer, going from village to village singing, juggling and making people laugh. That is his main occupation. It seems there is also a bit of a secret mission involved.As Asta's son is swept along with Bear, he also learns of his background; his father, why he and his mother were treated as such and why he was declared a "wolf's head." These revelations are not only surprising but also give Asta's son a new perspective and his true name...Crispin.This is an easy read, but there is a lot of excitement, secrecy and action. Though there are no illustrations, the author paints images with his words that I found I could visualize. But then this is the 9th book of his I've read and I enjoy his style.
    • 5/5
      It really felt like it was asking me every night to read it. Very enjoyable if you like reading. Full of adventures.
    • 4/5
      Shortly after the death of his mother, an overheard encounter leads to Crispin running for his life in 14th century England. On his journey, he meets a juggler who may be more than what he seems, and he learns about the secret of his own parentage. Avi is an author I never think of as a favorite, but his stories always draw me in. This Newbery winner is tightly plotted and well-researched, and I'd recommend it to readers who enjoy medieval tales.
    • 4/5
      An exciting adventure.
    • 3/5
      This was a sweet story of a young boy struggling with the death of his mother. All alone in the world, Crispin is befriended by Bear who teaches him about friendship, faith and self-esteem.
    • 5/5
      I'm reading it in class and I love it but I don't exactly know how to put it on audiobook
    • 5/5
      This book is really great for me
    • 4/5
      In a small town in medieval England lives a widow, Asta, and her nameless boy, known only as "Asta's son." Their life is poor and miserable, even by the standards of vassals in England at the time. But when Asta dies, her son suddenly finds himself pursued, for reason's he can't imagine, by the overlord of the town, and all the soldiers at his command. Forced to flee for his life, he soon encounters a roaming mummer, who seems at first to be a harsh and violent person, but whom the boy soon enough learns has plenty of good in him as well. But no matter how far they go, the overlord and his soldiers seem to still be hunting for the boy. The adventure comes to a head in a large town holding a festival, where Crispin (for that is his true name) learns why he has been sought, and has to make some difficult decisions - something he has never done for himself before.
    • 4/5
      Set in late 1300's England this is an engaging story of an orphan boy who is, for reasons unknown, targeted for execution by his Lord's steward. I appreciated the characters and the well-drawn setting. I felt the ending was just a tad contrived but it didn't spoil it for me. I will keep an eye out for the sequels!
    • 5/5
      I enjoyed this so much and it's been a pleasure to read and discuss it with my 12-year-old son. It's the kind of book I would have absolutely loved as a boy. Though my childhood was not nearly as difficult as Crispin's, I would have identified with him. And now, as an adult knowing much more about medieval England, I was able to enjoy it for different reasons. I find it quite amazing that Avi included John Ball, the 'mad priest of Kent,' in a children's book!
    • 3/5
      This is much better than I was expecting it to be. I think my students will enjoy it and that it will be great as part of my first unit for the Common Core.
    • 3/5
      I have checked this book out of the library on multiple occasions, only to leave it sitting on my bookshelves, unread, until I can renew it no longer. The cover of the book was just so unappealing, I couldn't make myself pick it up. Finally, I got it on my Kindle, and since I didn't have to look at the cover, I was able to make it through.

      This book is the 2003 Newbery winner and is the story of a young peasant boy in feudal England. He flees his village after the death of his mother, apprentices himself to a musician/rebel, and begins to learn about his true identity.

      I thought the story was engaging for the most part. I was thinking of going with four stars, but when I was 87% done, I completely forgot I was reading it. I got wrapped up in some other books and suddenly remembered I'd never finished this one. So I went back to it a month later. I guess a book isn't really that good if I could forget about it for so long.
    • 5/5
      While Crispin: The Cross of Lead starts off a little slow, it quickly picks up and hooks you. Why is Crispin targeted and hated so by John Aycliffe? As he flees from the village and only life he's ever known, Crispin encounters Bear, a juggler who takes him under his wing. A challenging friendship develops as Crispin learns about a world he's never experienced. Avi allows us to see the world through Crispin's innocent eyes and wonder who will be friend or foe. Two more books round out the series, both recommended.

      1 person found this helpful

    • 4/5
      Interesting historical fiction filled with adventure and intrigue. Nothing too scary or inappropriate. Okay for 4th grade on up.
    • 3/5
      The story is about a boy accused of stealing and then murder because of his identity. He thinks he is a poor peasant but there is a mystery surrounding his birthright. Crispin must flee the only life he has ever known and learn to think for himself. He is befriended by a traveling entertainer and learns how to play the recorder and sing. In the end, he must choose between his friend and his rightful inheritance. I think it would interest 6th grade students. Quite a few people are murdered.
    • 4/5
      Medieval adventure. Really intriguing, exciting story.
    • 3/5
      It was okay. The chapters were WAY too short for my comfort. The breaks were random and, often, a single scene spanned four or five chapters. Crispin was ENTIRELY too religious for my reasoning. I understand that this was a different time period, but for a poor, shunned farm boy with no education, no family, and no knowledge of the outside world, he was pretty darn knowledgeable about religion, saints, prayers, and whatnot. I get that the priest was one of his only friends, but still it all seemed TOO preachy for me. Also, not a lot happened. From the beginning of the book, there were maybe four or five major events and it took forever to get there. There was little action, little intrigue, and little to motivate me to keep reading other than I really wanted to know what was written on the darn cross. I'll read the second one because my library has it, but as my library does not have the third, unless something miraculous happens, I won't read the third.
    • 3/5
      Crispin is accused of theft and declared a wolf’s head, a death sentence meaning anyone he meets has the right to kill him if they wish. Along the way, he takes up with Bear a colorful jester who believes in freedom above all else. Although danger lurks around every corner for Crispin, I found his story to be a little dragging at times. Still, it was a good read, even if I didn’t quite buy into the ending.
    • 4/5
      Very good historical fiction. From everything I know it was very accurate on every level. It may be a bit short of four stars. Also the ending, I think, makes it not such a great standalone read, but it is an ongoing story and I am looking forward to the continuation. I think one may have to have an interest in the history and life in that time, or not be too far beyond the age the book seems to have been written for, to thoroughly enjoy it. We'll see what I think as the story continues.
    • 4/5
      I've been putting off reading Crispin for years. Someone booktalked it in one of my library classes, and it sounded good, but never quite good enough for me to pick it up. But now I'm compiling a booklist for Historical Fiction, so I checked out the audio version. And I have to say, it was better than I'd expected. Mysteries surrounding Crispin's parentage, scandal, the peasant revolt of 14th-century England... there was a lot packed into this title, and the action moved along pretty briskly.

      Did I love it? No, but I didn't expect to. Even with engrossing historical detail (and sometimes just gross historical detail; what middle-school book is complete without descriptions of what the privies smell like), it's just not my bag. It was still a good book, and I'll probably rustle up the audio of the sequel at some point, but I'm not clamoring for it. 4 stars for its own merit, my opinions notwithstanding.
    • 5/5
      Lauf, lauf oder sie kriegen dich.
    • 3/5
      this book was well written but it was to disturbing for me
    • 4/5
      Avi’s Newbery-winning book of an orphan boy known at first only as ‘Asta’s son’ is a familiar one, but it is also entertaining. When his mother dies, ‘Asta’s son’ soon finds himself on the run and is forced to flee the only town and home he has ever known. Leaving with only the clothes on his back and his mother’s lead cross, he does find some people who are willing to help him, but are they truly friendly, or do they only want to find out who he really is and why he’s being tracked?This book contained adventure, mystery, and history, and I really enjoyed it. Both of my sons read the book a few years ago, and I know they really liked it as well.
    • 3/5
      Two improbabilities are the sophisticated vocabulary used by a boy who grew up as a serf in a hovel, and the principals' escape from the bad guys at the end. They no question would have ended up as toast right there at the town gates, since the heroes were in fact so weak physically. These internal incredible bits do detract from the otherwise compelling story and characters, and the well-evoked setting.Also - why is this a series, out in three books? The tale could easily fit in one volume and thus be cheaper for public libraries and school libraries to buy. Oh! I get it.
    • 4/5
      He's spent his thirteen years known simply as Son or Asta's Son for his mother, Asta never called him anything other than 'Son' (remind you of that Dos Equis commerical with 'The Most Interesting Man in the World?). Now, though, with his mother having just died and his father dead his whole life, Asta's Son is an orphan.After paying the required death tax, he truly has nothing to his name (or lack thereof) even before being falsely accused of a crime and being run out of town to avoid being killed by anyone who might see him. It's during this flight from the only home he's ever know when he is told that he does, in fact, have a real name, one he was given in secret: Crispin.Declared a 'Wolf's Head' (meaning he's no longer human and can be killed on sight) for the crime he's been accused of, Crispin must avoid everyone he's ever known while on the run. With no real idea where he's going, his only plan is to find a city with lots of people where he won't stand out and find a way to create his new life.Set in the 14th century, Crispin: Cross of Lead is the first of three books about Cripsin. This first one really introduces who he is and where he comes from (with some interesting and unexpected twists, for sure). There's a lot of history mixed in but not in a way that makes it boring or weighs the story down. The history was an integral part of the plot, from the social structure to the geography to just the way the society worked in the 14th century.The mixture of characters was really great because they kept the story moving, stayed true to the era (while still being fun, different, and not at all boring), and developed Crispin from where he was at the start to who he was at the end.It took me a little while to get into the story--to be really invested in it, but it got much more interesting and . . . attention-grabbing after about one third of the book. I am really interested in reading the second book (and the third) to see what happens in it because so much was established in this first book. (Things were also resolved well at the end of the book, though, so that you can read it as a stand-alone book, too.)While it was an MG/Children's book, some of the word choice made it seem like it fit like it fit better at the top end of that.
    • 5/5
      Crispin is about a boy named Crispin who's mother has died. Then the steward of Stamford declared him as a wolfs head for theft and murder, witch means any one can kill him and be rewarded. On his gurney to great Wexlly he meats a man named bear who teaches him how to live a entertainer. While he was in great Wexlly he found out why he and the cross that he wears is so important needs to be destroyed. This is a good book. but the story line could have been better. There needs to be more action then drama through the book. But other than that this is a great book for all ages.
    • 4/5
      Great adventure story about a serf in the Middle Ages who finds himself on the road. I love to use this book to teach about the Middle Ages because it has gread medieval detail as well as some excitement to keep the kids interested.
    • 4/5
      Set in 14th century England during a time of violent peasant uprisings; the common people were becoming disenchanted with the "Church" and longing for more freedom and equality. The story begins with a young boy, known only as Asta's son, burying his mother and feeling a deep sense of loss. Contemplating what he should do, now all alone after his mother's death, he is told by the steward to give his ox to the manor house to pay a death tax. Protesting that he would starve if he did so the steward, John Aycliffe, replies, than starve. Feeling desperate he runs into the forest, hits his head and collapses only to wake to seeing a light. He creeps toward the light and overhears a conversation between Aycliffe and another man. Unfortunately he is seen and chased down but evades capture. The following day he watches as his shelter is torn down and burned. Bewildered as to why this is happening, he seeks out the priest, Father Quinel, who tells him he is a wanted man for stealing money. The priest tells him to hide and come again the following day that he had important information to tell him about his mother and father. He tells him his christened name is Crispin and hands him a lead cross that belonged to his mother. The following night he is detained by a man who tells him that the priest isn't coming and leads him into an ambush. He flees for his life only discovering that the priest has been murdered. He wanders until he comes across a man. known as Bear, who eventually takes him under his wing and together they work to solve his true identity, which is discovered to be the bastard son of the Lord of the land, thus giving him a claim to the royal throne. A good historical fiction based on true characters; the ending is a bit unbelievable but for the audience it is geared toward it is appropriate.
    • 4/5
      In Crispin: The Cross of Lead, Avi richly recreates 14th century England in all of its squalor. Out of fear for his life, Crispin flees the only home he’s ever known into a wider and more dangerous world than he has ever imagined. Crispin’s ignorance and naivete, born of a hard life limited to the boundaries of his village, nearly get him killed several times to the frustration of both his companions and the more knowledgeable reader. However, his fear of change and eventual enjoyment in his newfound life ring true. Avi populates his story with credible and interesting characters, from a monk turned fool and spy to the petty village steward. The plot itself is fast-paced, encouraging the reader to continue reading while subtly imparting a great deal of information about life in medieval Europe. If being a Newbery Medal winner was not enough to recommend its potential appeal to preteen boys should encourage all libraries to add it to their collection.
    • 5/5
      Story of Crispin, a simple servant boy in old England that is accused of stealing from the masters home and therefor wanted dead or alive, preferably dead. He is forced to leave the only home he has ever known to save his life. Along the way he meets a Juggler who teaches him about the world, and Cripsin learns to gain his independence and value freedom.

    Book preview

    Crispin - Avi

    FRANCE, 1377 AD

    "If you can go no farther than where you are,

    God has shown you your destiny."

    —attributed to St. Cyril

    1

    BEAR WAS DEAD.

    That sweet and kindly man, the wisest I had ever known, the one I considered friend, teacher, and even father, was gone. Would that I could be half so fine. God keep his saintly soul!

    Though I no longer had a father or a mother, I had, thanks be to God and Bear, a name: Crispin. And since I was bound to no land, kin, lord, or, for that matter, any man, I considered myself free. As long as I could keep myself out of bondage, I’d be true to Bear’s teaching. And so it was that beyond all else, I was determined to keep my freedom.

    I had but one friend. Her name was Troth. She had sailed to France with Bear and me from England. It was during that violent voyage and its aftermath that we met with such misfortune and Bear’s awful death.

    With his going, I was Troth’s sole companion as she was mine. Our ages were much the same—far too young to be alone. But there was more than that: since Troth’s twisted face brought rejection and fear, and garbled her speech—which I could best understand—I held myself as her shield. Was that not what Bear had done for me? I would do no less for her.

    Bear had told us about Iceland. He proclaimed it a land without kings, lords, or armies. Men—he said—lived free there. If we went, we too could be free.

    Though Bear’s death burdened Troth and me with grief like stones upon our backs, we decided to go to that Iceland. God knows it was folly to seek a place when we did not know where it might be, other than far north, as Bear had once said. But we took courage from a notion he had taught us: God offers many paths from which we may choose. If we put faith in ourselves, He would travel with us to the ends of the earth—and beyond.

    And so we headed north, walking countless miles along narrow paths, through dense forests and by fallow fields. We passed through deserted lands, places ravaged by disease, poverty, and the endless wars between the French and English. Ruins, graves, and desolation lay everywhere. It was as if God Himself had fled.

    For the most part, we tried to keep to woodlands, avoiding roads and villages. Our greatest fear was that, being young and without protection, we would be forced into some kind of servitude. But in the wild woods wherein we wandered, we were in equal dread of thieves and brigands, the brutal outlaws who preyed on hapless travelers. All of which is to say we never felt completely safe.

    From time to time, we did meet people: sore-footed pilgrims; peasants with their dirty, bleating sheep; chapmen selling ribbons and simple shards of saintly relics; and now and again an impoverished knight with his small troop of rusty-helmeted soldiers. They spoke languages unknown to us.

    I tried asking about Iceland in hopes that someone might speak English, or at least recognize the name of the place and tell us how we could get there. The only response we received was empty stares. Looking beggarly—which, by Saint Francis, is how we must have appeared—we were for the most part ignored.

    Though not big—nothing like Bear—I was taller than Troth. We were both thin, our bruised bodies filthy, our feet bare, our clothing mostly tattered. Troth, with her dark and staring eyes and her broken face, which she tried to hide with her long hair, often drew uneasy looks.

    For food, we depended upon her knowledge of wild plants, the names of which I did not know—things taught to her by Old Aude, the midwife-healer who had raised her. Once I caught a scrawny rabbit, twice, pigeons, which fed us for a winking while. So it was we ate little, though flies and fleas feasted on us.

    With every passing day, our hunger and weariness increased. The farther we went, the less we knew where we were. It was growing colder, too, with more leaves underfoot than on trees. In all of this, Troth did not utter a complaint, but I grew ever more aware of her growing exhaustion.

    Then one night, after a daylong trudge, Troth threw herself down and cried, I wish I’d never left England!

    I hardly knew what to say. We can find our way was my dull reply.

    She sighed. Crispin, she said gently, we don’t even know where we are.

    But we know where we’re going, I insisted. Once we reach Iceland, we’ll be safe. We’ll live free. It’s such a peaceful land, there’s bound to be plenty of food.

    At first she said nothing. Then, in a voice seeped in sadness, she said, It was peaceful with Aude.

    Troth, she was killed. We had to flee.

    But before, my days were calm, she went on, as if she were talking to herself. We helped others when we could.

    Aude’s wanting to help caused her death.

    Troth glared at me reproachfully. Wouldn’t you care for the sick? We helped Bear when he was sick.

    God’s truth, I admitted.

    She closed her eyes. Once Aude told me that the biggest worlds can best be found in the smallest places. Crispin, I don’t need this…huge world.

    Though I so wanted to care for her, I barely knew how to care for myself. What would you have us do? I said in exasperation.

    We need to learn how far Iceland is. Maybe…maybe it’s too far.

    I tried to push aside my own qualms by saying, When we get there, it’ll be worth everything.

    She shook her head. I don’t know what your ‘everything’ is.

    Troth! I cried. What else are we to do? We’re lost! We can’t speak the language! The only thing Bear left us was his words. His…his promise. His pointing north. I held out empty hands. That’s all we have!

    Troth said nothing for a long time. Then, in a small, plaintive voice, she said, We have to find out where we are.

    We can try, I agreed, exhausted.

    Anything is better than what we’ve been doing.

    The next day we started to search for someplace to rest and eat, where we might discover the way to go. Four days later we came upon a small village, the first we’d seen in many days.

    It was there our lives completely changed.

    2

    IT WAS LATE AFTERNOON when we reached the village. There wasn’t much to see. A narrow lane made its crooked way through a cluster of small timbered houses, all in poor repair. A few oxen, ragged sheep, and some scrawny chicks wandered free. Thin smoke rose from chimneys. Here and there were cabbage crofts, and farther out were narrow fields filled with stubbled grain. I saw a broken plow, a wagon with three wheels, and an old and crowded cemetery before which stood a small stone church. The whole village was tainted with the smells of rot and poverty.

    The only unusual thing was that on a hill overlooking the village stood a large stone building with red roof tiles. At one end was a bell tower with a cross. I assumed it was another, bigger church. There seemed to be other buildings behind it, but I couldn’t see them well. It did not matter: our interest lay in the village.

    There were people about, mostly older men and women, plus some children. Their drab garb and weathered faces told me they were peasants. Offering no sign of welcome, they stared suspiciously at us from their doors.

    If I had been with Bear, we would have entered the town with me playing the recorder and him dancing and juggling. By bringing rare merriment to such meager places, we always managed to earn a little bread. Alas, Troth and I had long ago lost our instruments. As for dancing, we had neither strength nor spirit. We needed to beg.

    At length I spied an old man sitting on a bench before an open door. As I approached, he stared at me with red, runny eyes but made no movement nor offered any greeting.

    God be with you, master! I called, making a clumsy bow.

    He gazed at me.

    In the name of Jesus, I said louder, our hunger makes us beg for bread.

    He continued to study me in silence. Then, pulling at his ruddy, grizzled chin with a bent hand, he barked, "Parlez français!"

    Of course: he spoke French, and I only had my English. Stymied, all I could do was put forth cupped hands in a begging gesture. Food, I said, and touched hand to mouth. Food.

    Food, he echoed, without seeming to comprehend.

    Other villagers began to edge near—if none too close—and considered us with uninviting looks. A few were holding staffs. One man clutched a rusty sword.

    Alarmed, Troth drew near me as I tried to show our peaceful intent by more bowing, touching my belly, and holding out my hands. Food! I kept repeating to now one and then another.

    A ragged boy—shoved by an elder—came forward. He halted at what he must have considered a safe distance. Even at that, he looked at us with disdain, wrinkling his nose as if disgusted. Someone shouted at him. With a hand gesture, the boy beckoned to us and headed away. Not knowing what else to do, we followed. The other people remained behind, but kept watching us.

    The boy led us up the hill to that large church we had first seen. As we drew nearer, the building seemed to grow in size, far bigger than I had realized. I saw no ornamentation. Windows were few. The stone walls were covered by entangled green vines, out of which bats flew.

    The boy took us to an entryway, a massive pair of tall, wide doors built of bolt-studded wooden planks that were rounded at the top. On one of the doors, a large and rusty iron face of some fearful beast was attached. From its gaping, toothy jaws hung a knocking ring.

    The boy stood on his toes, grabbed the ring, and thumped the door three times. Next moment he turned suddenly and spat at Troth’s face. Laide! he cried, and bolted down the hill. I spun and started to give chase only to have Troth grab my sleeve and hold me back.

    Let him go, she said wearily, and wiped the spittle from her face.

    I put my arm around her trembling shoulders. She said no more.

    Not knowing what else to do—shivering from cold and distress—we waited by the door. By then the moon was just above the trees. Quite huge, its brightness turned the evening clouds blue. Overhead, bats flitted about in rapid, erratic flight. From a distance I heard the hooting of an owl. I kept glancing down the hill, fearful that other villagers would come and accost us.

    A bell rang out loudly, enough to make me start. Shortly after, I heard the grinding sound of a turning lock. One of the double doors opened a crack.

    Peering out of darkness was a woman’s face—nothing but her face. Startled, it took me a moment to realize it was a nun in her long black habit, her pale face encased in a wimple. The burning candle she held in her hand revealed that she was tall, her face bore many lines, and her eyes seemed hard. Her mouth suggested firmness.

    She lifted her candle, the better to look down at us. Under her gaze, Troth—as usual—shifted her hair to hide her face.

    God be with you, Sister, I muttered, not knowing what else to say.

    The nun’s eyes widened slightly. It was a few moments before she said, Are you…English? The words were spoken haltingly, with some puzzlement.

    Elated she spoke our language, I made another bow. We are, in Jesus’s name, I said.

    The nun eased the door a little more open but didn’t relax her gaze. Who are you? she demanded. How do you come to be here?

    It’s a long tale, I replied in haste. The shorter part is that—coming from England—we were struck by a storm, the ship all but destroyed. We reached land only to have our father die. Somewhere south of here. Since then we’ve been wandering, trying to leave this land. Forgive us, Sister, but…we don’t know where we are.

    She considered my words in silence. Are you, she asked, trying to return to England?

    To Iceland.

    Her eyes narrowed. I’ve never heard of such a place.

    Troth sighed. My heart sank. All I could say was If it pleases, Sister, we’re in great need of food. Bread would be a blessing. Then we’ll be happy to go on.

    Where was your home in England? she asked.

    A tiny village, I said. Not unlike this one. Called Stromford.

    She gave no sign of recognition but said, Tell me your names.

    Crispin, I said.

    And you? she said to Troth.

    When Troth shrank back, I said, This is my sister, Troth.

    The nun frowned. Troth is not a Christian name.

    With permission, it’s hers.

    Can’t she speak for herself?

    Her face has been broken since birth, I said. She’d rather I speak for her.

    The woman considered Troth again before turning back to me. To whom do you belong? she asked.

    I tried to stand tall. No one.

    You’re too young for that, she snapped. Have you run away?

    We haven’t! I cried; and when she made no reply, I said, It’s true by all that’s holy. Forgive me, Sister, we’re very hungry. We haven’t eaten in two days.

    Did the people in the village give you anything?

    I

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