Found:
The morning was sedate enough. I encountered Holtathor asleep upon a bench and, after some back and forth, a little negotiation and some amusement on both parts, I bought him breakfast. The man is horrendously lazy, admitting that he often eats whatever scraps he can find to avoid working for coin to buy his food. I do not understand his mindset. I do not understand why someone would choose to live on discards and sleep on cold stone benches as a way to avoid being productive. I don't judge, of course - I am hardly in a position to judge anyone - I simply do not understand. Freedom, he says, but one can be free in all things and still find a way to make enough coin to eat food that won't make them sick.
I have offered him some minor work around my house, things that I have trouble with in my present condition, in exchange for meals and enough coin to repair his tattered clothing. Even then he complained of the effort it would take, but nothing in life is for free. Except pig swill, it would seem.
Still, he is a pleasant enough man and fun to talk with. And despite my dislike for rosemary, he does smell better now than he did before. He claims he slathered himself in the stuff at Dernwynn's suggestion and for my sake. I don't believe it for a moment, but humouring him is entertaining for both of us, I think.
Later, Tilton came to me asking for advice. He was squirrely. Nervous. I understood why the moment I set eyes upon the bruises he had tried to conceal. The boy had taken a severe beating from his father for spending time speaking with Dernwynn and I.
I am angry on his behalf. I will not deny that. After what I suffered in my youth, I cannot help but feel livid that he, too, must go through something so terrible. I tried to hide it, but I think he knew. He hid when he saw his father walking across the courtyard. I helped him do so whilst the man tried hard to intimidate Tillie, a mistake that will cost him dearly sooner or later.
When the man stormed off toward the south. I took the boy to a safe place; one that his father would be highly unlikely to come to. Tillie joined us after a little while. It was odd to see the bright and bubbly woman so furious, but her reasons for it were far from unreasonable. It seems that the father had later returned and, after having insulted and threatened Tillie again, had turned his attention to a young friend of Tilton's. The girl, apparently, had intervened in an attempt to distract the man from the whereabouts of his son. Brave. Very, very foolish, but brave.
Tilton, of course, grew deeply concerned and, being young and male, instantly became an idiot.
I told him to stay safe with Tillie whilst I found the girl and brought her back, but not a minute had passed between me finding the pair - and the crowd they had gathered - and the stupid boy running over to draw attention to himself!
I don't know what he expected anyone to do about it at that point, but he was sorely disappointed. I turned to leave, which apparently upset the boy enough that he ran in the opposite direction. At least he chose the path away from his tormentor, so that's something. The man followed, of course, but there was naught we could do about it by then. So I took the girl, Ria back to the safe place to wait and see if the boy would arrive.
This sparked Tillie's ire all the more. She blamed the girl for it all which is, when all is said and done, really rather unfair. True, the girl needn't have involved herself, but she did so with the best of intentions. Actions have consequences; hers resulted in quite a nasty bruise, courtesy of the man. She did not force Tilton to go running headlong into further danger, aware that the situation was already being handled. That was his choice and his alone.
Nor did she, I, or Tillie, force Tilton to throw a strop when he didn't get the response he wished upon his return. His choice again and his consequences to bear.
We shall see what comes of it. I can only hope that the natural stupidity of young men doesn't cause him to do something he cannot take back.
