Kitchenpro Breadmaker

What If: 1625 (Ethan), Part One.

(Inspired by "1602", by Neil Gaiman.)

Dog .

A night like many others, in London, Anno Domini 1625. The pilgrims going to Canterbury to visit the tomb of the martyr Thomas Becket, shady businessmen of all kinds, local landlords in search of strong emotions, all seem headed for a single room, this evening: the Tabard Inn, a humble tavern, hot and atmosphere. Inside you hear the pungent aroma of spices of any kind, the smell of sweat and alcohol that permeates the air. The customers sitting at tables or stand up to drink beer and palpate the breast of a young girl found no family.
Suddenly, two men make their entry apparently common and similar to all other customers. They are both dressed in black clothes travelers. The first of these is a boy even twenty years, brown hair and freckles on the face of a naive, the second one is a man of sessant'uno years, but that seems to take them surprisingly well. White hair, beard care, look lynx. Surely a guy who is immediately evident.

"Uh ... it's him, Kit?" , freckled boy asks the old man, pointing to a young man nearby.

"Yes ... yes, it's him. Good observation skills, Jim, will give an account to Baldwin. "Says the mysterious Kit, coming together in what seems like the right pupil at the counter host. They sit both, and seem to have the air of those who do not want trouble from anyone.

"Good evening, gentlemen, welcome to the Tabard Inn. I can be somewhat helpful? ", asks the landlord, getting closer.

" Good evening, good man. " says Kit so affable, " would like the cold beer, me and my nephew reenter the pilgrimage to Canterbury, and we are very tired. Luckily my brother is hosting us here in London, otherwise we would have also booked a room. "

The landlord, burly, bald, and with two huge mustache, does not seem very convinced, but it serves two customers in the black. Jim tasting beer, and throwing glances in a Kit

"watered down ..." , hisses.

"What did you expect a young Jim? We are in London, will not want to disturb the King Charles scum just because you served yet another watered-down beer? Rather, thank him, because tonight you will return home sober. "

" I'd be back the same, forget who we're to have to do? ".

" God, Jim, you seem to make a question of State ... ", giggles Kit, " this guy has only eaten in one night an entire herd of cattle, but I seem to have faced such problems in the past, no? ".

" You've dealt with them, not me. My father was a shoemaker, and until a few months ago I was sending out the family tradition. "

" Even my father was a shoemaker, Jim. ", replica kit, smiling.

Both men they turn black, keeping an eye on the guy who should "face": a young man, about nineteen, tall, fairly muscular, long blond hair that falls on shoulders, dressed in the simplest way possible. Sitting at a table, clutching a lute, as he strums.

All the other customers seem to have focused attention on the minstrel.

"Next Dog! We want Ballad of Fantastik!" , a screaming, followed by the incitement of others.

"Okay people, okay, hearken to your wishes, but now: quiet!" , says the blonde began to strum the lute, and sing:

proud spirits were four
What esploravan the vast Tue,
all aboard the Fantastik
fearless surfing
One was the captain,
one was a great lord,
a hot-headed swordsman of great value, and the last a girl
bloodless
But the sea has its pitfalls
And when it seems that the troubles are just finished
understand what are the four I became,
the captain is a monster, and this is not the peace.
The guy is a torch,
a man of fire,
the members of the Lord have become rubber
and more now seems to pale his lady!

"Bravo!" , the patrons shouting in unison, shaking the jars.

"MPF, I knew that ballad was cursed." , Jim whispers that seem to be bothered by all, Kit

"Wait, Jim Young, a moment that minstrel so strong ..." and fixing the blond-haired boy with a little desire, "end his show, and we will do our job. "

Jim looks at him puzzled, but continues to drink watered down beer.

*
Dog out of the Tabard Inn when it's night, and you hear almost no noise in the street. In one hand, the lute, in the other, a bottle of liquor stronger in circulation, with only a so-called stomach can bear.

"And another day is over ..." , whispers, perhaps nothing, or perhaps to himself, in a tone of voice mixed with pity and anger.

Suddenly, a knife, cold as ice in the north, the greenhouse throat.

"Be still, Dog ... and everyone will be happier, mh? , whispered a voice, a young voice. Dog seems to be as calm as if nothing had happened and was doing the most refreshing of sleep.

"So who is this time?" The English Inquisition? Javier Or the school? " , he says, smiling.

"Shield of the King Dog." said a second voice, and a figure emerges from the shadows. An old, yet still in good shape. "Ser Baldwin would like to ask you a proposal ..." .

"Sir Baldwin makes pointing a knife at her throat in a harmless minstrel?" , Dog application, noting the old man.

"these days ... yes." , says the man in black, as if he had been asked what does two plus two, "and then, come on, you, a harmless minstrel?" .

"Well ... sir ... you can tell Baldwin ... that ... , whispers Dog, as his hands begin to bleed, and something seems to be moving in the flesh ... strusciante, as the movement of a snake ready to attack.

"Fuck You ..." .

Everything happens too fast. From the hands of the safety minstrel bone claws come out three hands, the bottle of liquor smashed, the lute that ruin the floor. Dog escapes from the outlet of the young without much efforts, time, and stabs his claws of his left hand straight into the belly, disappearing in the dark alleys of London. The young man falls to the ground, dying.

"Shit!" , the boy screams, "Hey, hey Kit, took me to smear ... I can make it, take me to a doctor." But

Kit seems to have a different idea in his head. From the black folds of her dress, pulls a gun, charge, and points it at the front of the poor boy. A thunder exploded in the night.

"I'm sorry, my friend, I would have made out the same." , Kit whispers to the corpse of the late Jim, "so, you'd be dead anyway, no one should see what you saw, you know you were only a temporary aid, cannon fodder."

Then the old man observes the darkness of London, and the minstrel dileguatosi now.

"The manhunt ... my favorite animal." , Kit whispers, smiling in a way very Mephistopheles.

[Continue ...]