Chapter Text
Crowley sat in the corner of the tavern, watching the locals from behind his colored glasses. He hadn’t planned on stopping in this random German town, but the taste of anger and desperation overpowered him as he was passing through. Something was going on here and he figured he could capitalize on it for a report to Hell. If it was bad enough, he might get a few months of peace before being handed new orders.
Maybe a dozen people had gathered in the tavern. Oddly enough, very few had ordered any food even though it was dusk. Everyone had a tankard of ale or beer, just as Crowley did, but dinner seemed to be forgotten.
The other patrons had all bunched together at a few tables in front of the large fireplace. Conversation focused on the harsh winter and dwindling supplies. Crowley drank from his beer thoughtfully; fear was easy to manipulate.
The door banged open and a large middle-aged man entered the tavern along with a blast of icy air. Conversation stopped as everyone turned to look. One man held up his beer in a toast, “Mayor Hardrat, you’re back! You’ve got good news, I hope?”
“For once this God damned winter I do.” He pulled off his cloak and hung it on a rack by the door. A woman moved from the chair directly in front of the fire and the mayor sat down. A serving girl brought over a pitcher and poured him a beer. He ignored her as he traded greetings with the other patrons. The couple who owned the tavern left their work to join the group. Crowley leaned forward in his seat, interested to see what had the man so excited.
The mayor waited until everyone was situated and focused on him before speaking. “First, food. I’ve got a few more rat catchers coming over the next few weeks, not that I’ve much hope for them. And managed to buy a supply of grain. Not enough, but it’ll be delivered in the next few days, weather permitting. Besides that, I’ve managed to convince two groups to visit next week and I would urge all of you to take advantage if you can. Early next week, recruiters from the Church will come. They’re primarily looking for young men and older boys to train as soldiers. The crusades in the east are over, but there are still campaigns in the west to win. They’re also looking for people to maintain weapons, manage horses, take care of laundry and cooking. They’ll take over ten or so who might prove useful.”
A crash sounded from against the opposite wall. The girl who had poured the Mayor his drink stood by the doorway into the kitchen. A metal pitcher was on the floor and beer puddled around her feet and soaked her dress. She was pale, evident even in the firelight. Crowley didn’t have to be a demon to taste the fear pouring off her in waves.
A burst of anger, peppery on the back of his tongue, drew his attention as her mother turned on her from where she had been standing listening to the mayor. “Stupid girl!” she yelled as she rushed over and slapped the child across her face. “Useless! Clumsy! Can’t you even keep hold of a pitcher? Go get some rags to clean this up and don’t disrupt us again!”
Crowley’s eyes narrowed and the woman tripped and fell on her way back to the others. The girl was right to be afraid of the crusades. He’d thought the Church had learned its lesson about taking kids on campaigns after the disaster of the Children’s Crusade. The girl, whose face had been blank until that point, turned to hide a smirk at her mother’s predicament as she left, presumably to gather the cleaning supplies. Her mother cursed as she pushed herself up and returned to her previous spot by her husband. They both apologized for their daughter’s interruption and assured the mayor it wouldn’t happen again.
The mayor scowled. “It better not. Any questions about the Church?”
Crowley was already making plans. He could prevent the recruiters from ever getting near the town. That’d score him some brownie points from Hell and keep the kids safe.
One of the other townsmen stood up, hands clenched into fists on the table. “What if we don’t have kids old enough for that? There’s not enough food even for the Missus and I, let alone the three little ones we’ve got.” He was a much younger man, not far out of childhood himself to Crowley’s eye.
“That’s where the second group comes in. For the younger ones, or the ones the Church won’t take, at the end of the week there’ll be a man coming. He deals in people – indentured servants and slaves. He’ll take anyone of any age except for babes who haven’t been weaned. And even then, he could be convinced to take mother and babe as a pair.”
The young man nodded once and fidgeted with the sleeve of his tunic. He was more than tempted; Crowley didn’t have to be a demon to know that. The man felt guilty, the taste sour in Crowley’s mouth, but he’d do it.
Crowley found his attention dragged back to the serving girl as the group debated the details of selling their children. She gripped a rag tightly in her hands, cleaning forgotten, as she glared at the adults. The anger and hatred that poured off her overpowered the taste of his beer as he watched her over his mug.
She must have come to some decision because she turned back to her work with determination. Clearly frustrated, she used much more force than necessary to wring out the soaked rag into a bucket. In no time at all she was done. She whipped the rag into the bucket and rushed upstairs. Her steps silent despite her anger.
While she was gone, conversation drifted to how much people thought they could get for anyone sold into service. Boys would be worth more, of course. But age and skills also needed to be considered. Crowley listened with half an ear, sick with the casual way they were discussing how much coin this girl or that boy could be worth. When the girl crept back down the stairs, she had a younger sister with her. The elder had changed into a clean dress and both had on boots and thick cloaks. Sticking to the shadows against the wall, they made their way into the kitchen without attracting any notice.
Intrigued, Crowley slid up from his seat and decided to follow them. Wrapping shadows around himself, he made his way through the room unseen.
He entered the kitchen just in time to see the back door close behind the two girls. He followed them through the dark alleys and side streets until they stopped at a house just down the way. Both girls picked up snow or rocks from the ground and tossed it at the wall next to a window on the second floor until the shutters opened, and a dark-haired boy stuck his head out.
He waved but didn’t say anything as the girls gestured him to come down. He held up one finger and ducked back inside. While waiting for him to join them, the girls stomped their feet and rubbed hands together to stay warm. Crowley had given up on feeling warm two months ago when the cold had settled into his bones.
When the boy came out, he and girls had a short, whispered conversation, that Crowley couldn’t make out. With a nod, the boy ran off in one direction while the girls went in a different one. Crowley stuck to the girls.
They stopped at two more houses, adding another three children to the group. By this point, they were at the edge of town. They stopped at a large stable and the older sister from the inn knocked a pattern on the door. A moment later a boy who looked remarkably like the mayor, opened it and the group filed in.
Crowley crept closer to the door only to have to dive behind a crate when he heard more children coming. Only two in this group. One knocked in the same pattern as before and they were let in. Crowley waited a few minutes longer before daring to look for some way to see into the building. He circled the building and found a small window. The shutters were closed, but one of the slats had broken off so he could peer inside. A group of ten children sat inside on crates and makeshift seats around a few buckets of coals to keep warm. The oldest ones looked to be about fifteen or so and the youngest couldn’t have been over five. Stalls lined the sides of the building, many housing horses. Whoever owned this barn must be well-off to have that many beasts.
The kids were all talking over each other until the mayor’s son stood up, quieting everyone down. “My father returned today. He wouldn’t tell me anything, but he went to the inn and Linde heard everything.”
The older girl from the inn stood, “It’s bad, everyone. I don’t...” Her voice cracked. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath and gripped her sister’s shoulder, “They plan to sell us, either to the Church or to a slaver. The church will come early next week, the slaver a few days later. The Church wants people for the crusades and won’t just take fighters, but anyone over ten who can help out around a camp.”
Silence took over for a moment once she stopped talking. Then chaos as everyone tried to talk over everyone else. Crowley could hear crying and taste fear and anger and despair.
He closed his eyes and remembered little bodies exposed as flood waters receded. He remembered a tomb marked with salt that had once been a town filled with people. He remembered villages visited by plague. Countless battlefields. A Children’s Crusade that ended with thousands scattered to the four winds never to return home. He couldn’t stop any of them, but he’d walk back to Hell permanently before he’d turn away without doing something for these kids.
He would give them a third option. And make sure they lived long enough to make their own choices.
Mind made up, he left his hiding spot by the window and walked to the main door and knocked in the same pattern as the kids had. Everyone was still talking loudly inside. He knocked again, louder this time. The voices quieted down, and someone asked, “Did you hear that?” He knocked a third time and there was a moment of silence before the door opened. The mayor’s son stood there holding a knife and looking at him suspiciously.
“Sounds like you kids could use some help.”
The boy raised his knife higher. Behind him, the girl from the inn, Linda or something, raised a shovel. Behind her huddled her younger sister and the youngest boy in the group. The third older child brandished a pitchfork. Crowley couldn’t help but smirk at the tableau. These kids had spirit, that’s for sure.
“Who are you?” demanded the knife-wielder.
Big-inn-girl responded before Crowley could. “You’re our guest at the inn. Did you follow us here? Why?”
Crowley shrugged. “Curiosity. Never could leave well enough alone, me. My name is Crowley and I think I can help you out. Mind if I join you?” No one moved and the demon sighed. He reached under his cloak revealing a satchel that had not been there a moment before. He pulled out two cloth wrapped items. He unwrapped one revealing a large chunk of cheese. “Hear me out and I’ll feed you.”
That got them to move. The weapons were lowered and some of the younger children had to be held back from running up to him. Crowley bit his cheek and blood to filled his mouth. With a silent blessing at his loss of control, he swallowed the mouthful and healed the injury. When he smiled at them, his teeth looked human and no hint of blood remained.
The mayor’s son still gripped his knife tightly, but it was pointed at the floor. He couldn’t look away from the food. “Why do you want to help us?”
Crowley rolled his eyes, not that they could tell behind his glasses. “Let’s sit, I’ll cut up the bread and cheese, and then we can talk business while actually comfortable.”
The three main defenders exchanged looks before they nodded. Crowley settled on an upturned bucket; the others took similar seating arrangements with the littlest on someone’s lap. Crowley took out a knife from its sheath on his hip and cut thick slices from the cheese and bread and passed it around. The older ones tried to stop the younger from immediately setting on the food, but they could sooner have stopped the sun from rising. When the little ones exclaimed that it was good, the older ones gave in and ate just as quickly. Crowley had to clench his jaw to keep from hissing his anger. He waved off any thanks they tried to give him for the meal.
Big-inn-girl was the first to speak. “Why do you want to help us, Mr. Crowley?”
“Just Crowley, no ‘Mister’ for me. Why don’t we start with introductions? I think I heard your name was Linda or something?”
She blushed, “Right, of course. Sorry, we should have realized. I’m Herlinde, Linde for short. This is my sister, Isentrud.” She put her arm around her sister’s shoulders.
The mayor’s son introduced himself as Albrecht. The boy who had threatened him with a pitchfork was Werner. Everyone else followed suit. Crowley knew he’d never be able to keep the names straight.
Once they were done, Crowley nodded. “So, would I be right is assuming Linde, Albrecht, and Werner are the leaders of this little group?”
Albrecht shrugged. “As much as anyone could be considered a leader, I suppose. We know everyone and can get around a bit easier than most of the other kids. Linde is always running errands for her parents and I send messages for my dad, he’s the mayor, and Werner’s family is the richest in town, so he helps us smuggle supplies. He also keeps lists and things because he’s been educated.”
“Sounds like a pretty good set up. So, Mayor-boy, if you could do anything for the kids here, what would it be?”
“I’d take them away. Bring them somewhere we could look after ourselves. Our parents wouldn’t miss us, just fewer mouths to feed and bills to pay, but we don’t have enough supplies or anywhere to go.”
“Forget all the reasons why it’s impossible for a minute, if you could, if you had somewhere to go, would you leave? All of you?” Crowley looked around at every kid in the stable.
A chorus of nods and yeses answered his question.
“Then that’s what I’ll help you do. How many of you are there?”
“You probably just want to sell us yourself,” scoffed one kid. Some agreed with him, while others just wanted to know how he planned to help them.
Crowley ignored them all. “How many?” he repeated.
Albrecht shrugged, but Werner pulled out a book and flipped through it. “Well over a hundred children here who’d be interested in leaving. Probably a hundred twenty to forty. All ages, too. Youngest are still toddlers while Albrecht, Linde, and I are among the oldest at fifteen-sixteen.”
Crowley whistled. What was going on in this town that so many of the adults were terrible? “I can help you get out. Bring all of you someplace safe. Help you survive through at least the winter. Possibly longer. And if I do have to leave, I’ll make sure you’re set up well enough to survive if you’re smart about it. What’s in the book?”
“I keep a list of the families with kids in here and if anyone needs anything, they let me know and I make note of it. Then Linde helps figure out how to get them what they need.”
“Sounds like you’re more organized than most armies. So you’re the Scribe, then, eh?” Crowley turned to Linde. “And you’re the General who manages the troops and supplies.”
Said General looked at him like he had two heads causing Crowley to reach up and make sure his glasses were still on and run his tongue over his teeth to make sure he hadn’t grown fangs. “Why are you offering to help us and why should we trust you?” she asked.
Crowley shrugged. “My Mother abandoned me when she decided I wasn’t the perfect, golden child She wanted. She played favorites and kicked out anyone who didn’t adhere to Her draconian rules. It bothers me when I see others like Her who are willing to make their kids suffer.”
Linde did not look convinced. “That might explain why you’d give us a bite to eat, but it doesn’t explain why you’d go so far as to take care of us and give us shelter.”
He ran a hand through his hair. “Because there have been far too many times when I couldn’t help. The church wants to take some of you on crusades? I’ve seen the aftermath of those battlefields. Bodies scattered everywhere, lives ruined, children dead in their homes. I’ve seen the way people treat their slaves and indentured servants. The idea of walking away and leaving any of you to that fate is repulsive.”
She bit her lip and looked away but didn’t say anything.
Crowley looked them all over. “Look, I know you don’t have any reason to trust me. But I’ll do what I can to help. Unfortunately, you only have a limited time to choose. There’s a maze of caves in the mountains to the south I can bring you to. They open near a valley that’s currently uninhabited. There’s plenty of room to grow food and pasture animals. I promise to do my best to help you survive at least this winter. I’ll swear it on anything you ask me to. Except God. And I only have that exception because I haven’t had trust in Her in a long time and it’d be a worthless promise.”
No one spoke for what seemed like an age. The kids kept looking at him, then away. Finally, Scribe asked, “Would it be alright if we had a few minutes to discuss this amongst ourselves?”
“Right! Of course, yeah. No problem. I’ll just wait outside, shall I? Come get me when you’ve made your decision.” With a wave he left before another word could be spoken.
Outside the barn, it was full dark. To his relief, not a single cloud blocked his view of the stars. He found a stump to sit on and stared up at the galaxy. “Why?” he asked the sky quietly. He learned long, long ago that he wouldn’t get an answer, but no matter how much time had passed or how far he had fallen, he couldn’t stop the question from falling from his lips.
With a sigh, he focused on the cosmos. Even now, he loved to look to the stars. He lost himself in memories of creating them with his siblings to distract himself from the kids just on the other side of the wall.
“…Hey! Crowley!” a voice shouted in his ear as a hand grabbed his shoulder.
Crowley let out a loud squawk and fell back off his perch landing in a pile of snow and mud. He glared up at the three children who were covering their mouths with their hands. It did nothing to muffle their laughter. “Don’t sneak up on a guy! It’s rude!”
Small-inn-girl, Isentrud that was it, grinned at him. “We didn’t! We called and called and you didn’t react! So I had to grab you!” That seemed to be it for her as she soon joined him on the ground, laughing too hard to stand.
Crowley scowled at her as he stood up, cloak and tunic miraculously clean and dry as he did. The other two, whose names he couldn’t remember, were only still standing because they were leaning on each other. Gently, he nudged the girl with his foot. “All right, all right. That’s enough of that now. It wasn’t that funny. Get up!”
The girl wrapped her arms around his leg and pulled herself into a sitting position, her head against his knee. Tear were coursing down her face as she struggled to breathe.
Crowley bent down, put his hands under her arms, and pulled her to her feet. She still couldn’t walk, so he picked her up instead. She continued to laugh into his neck. “I suppose it’s time for me to rejoin you?”
The other two gasped out their yeses and the group made its way back into the barn. Crowley handed the girl in his arms off to her sister. She seemed to be getting herself under control, but looking at him would send her into a fresh fit of giggles.
Mayor-boy stared at them, “What happened out there?”
Before either of the other two kids could say anything, Crowley positioned himself between them and covered their mouths with his hands. “Absolutely nothing, Mayor-boy!” He bent down and hissed in their ears, “If you sssay a ssssingle thing, I won’t give you the extra sssslicsssesss of bread I’ve got for you.”
Both turned to look at him in surprise before grinning into his palms and nodding their agreement. Crowley lowered his hands to their shoulders, and they were quick to confirm his story. “Nothing! Nothing happened at all!”
Albrecht looked between them and Isentrud, curled up in her sister’s lap with her breathing now mostly under control. “Riiight…” he drew out before shaking his head. “Whatever. It doesn’t matter. Crowley, you’re right. We’re going to take your offer. Do you have any plans for how to get us out of here? What about supplies?”
“I want to know why you wear those dark glasses over your eyes,” asked one of the other kids, a boy of about ten or so. “Doesn’t it make it hard to see?”
Crowley let go of the two kids and resumed his seat, the kids settling down, too. “I’ve an eye condition. They tend to unsettle people, so it’s just easier to keep them hidden. As for how we get out… Well, what would all of you say to making a spectacle of it? I mean, we could just disappear in the middle of the night. Or we could dance down Main Street in full daylight.”
The kids were already grinning as they looked around at each other. They loved the idea of snubbing their parents publicly.
Scribe, however, frowned. “But won’t they follow us?”
Crowley shook his head. “Not if I don’t want them to, Scribe. Think you guys could get out of going to church service on Sunday? Everyone who wants to leave? We could go while they’re at Mass.”
The kids were clearly getting excited as they eagerly discussed various excuses they could exploit. Several stayed home anyway to watch too active toddlers. Others would pretend at least one child was sick in the household and the siblings could stay home to care for them. Some even figured they would just throw a tantrum and refuse to leave. Might get them a smack with a switch, but they’d be able to stay home.
General brought up the next point. “We’ll need a lot more supplies than we have, too. Everything from livestock to cooking implements to blankets, and so much more.”
Crowley nodded at her. “Of course. If we plan to leave on Sunday, do you think you could spread the word? Steal any and all items that won’t be missed right away? Is there a cave or mine or something nearby where we could stash the horde until we leave?”
After some more debate, it was decided one of the younger boys had the best suggestion. “Northeast of town there’s a hill. One of the sides is so steep it’s basically a cliff. I sometimes take the sheep that way when I’ve got the herd. There’s a hollow there. It’s not huge, but is big enough for a few people to shelter from the rain.”
“Sounds perfect,” said Crowley. “Could you show me tomorrow? Or wait, no. Let’s make it the day after. Thursday.” The boy agreed and they made plans to meet at dawn when he took charge of his family’s flock.
General brought up the next concern. “What about the things we can’t steal? Like livestock? Or furniture?”
“Well, General, you’ll have to help me buy those items tomorrow, won’t you? I suppose first we’ll need to get a cart and horse or donkey. Then we’ll go around town and you can help me figure out what else we need to buy. Money isn’t an issue. You can introduce me to all the other kids, too. Or at least some of them.”
“My name’s Linde, not General. My mother won’t let me just go off for a full day when there’s work to be done in the inn.”
“I’m calling you General because according to Scribe, that’s what you are. He said you’re the one in charge of distributing supplies and stuff. And you’re the one who called this meeting tonight. That’s what a General does. And I bet your mother would let me if I offered to pay her for your time. Especially if I offered a bonus if you got me good deals.”
She cocked her head and nodded thoughtfully. “She would at that. Alright, if you can convince Mama to let me, I’ll go with you.”
“As for livestock, we should leave without any at this point. Leave it for a week or so, and then a few of us can come back and steal what we need.”
The group continued to discuss what they’d need, trying to separate it into what would need to be purchased and what could be stolen. Scribe made careful lists of each category and promised to pass them over once Crowley let him know he could read.
Once the lists were as complete as they could be, Crowley remembered something he had overheard at the inn. “Hey, question for you kids. The Mayor said something about rat catchers? What’s up with that?”
Mayor-boy was the one to answer. “Well, that’s why we’ve a food shortage. The harvest was actually decent this year, but rats managed to get into the stores. They’ve destroyed practically everything.”
A plan was forming in Crowley’s mind. “Hmmm, would they be willing to pay a rat catcher for getting rid of them?”
Mayor-boy nodded. “They’ve been bringing people in as often as they can find them. Each one might kill a dozen or two, but no one’s been able to really do anything about it.”
“I could get rid of them. Wouldn’t be hard at all. I’d pass any payment onto you guys that way you don’t have to put all your trust in me.”
General looked at him oddly, “Why would you do that? Wouldn’t you want to keep the money to pay for some of the supplies you’ll be buying us?”
Crowley gestured to his clothes. They were the finest fabrics of the area and dyed much darker than most people could afford. “Trust me, money is the least of my concerns. Thought having resources of your own might give you some peace of mind, though. If you don’t want me to do it, I won’t.”
Scribe interjected before anyone else could say anything. “If you can do it, please do. I don’t know how you’ll manage it; we’ve tried everything. But there are some innocent people living here who don’t deserve to starve to death.”
Crowley nodded. “Yeah, don’t much care for the death of innocents. So I’ll take care of the rat problem, collect the fee, and pass the money over to you.”
“Give it to Linde. She’s the best of us with money,” said Scribe.
“You’ve got it. So, tomorrow, General, you and I will get as many supplies as we can. Then, the day after, I’ll pretend to leave town and come back in a disguise. Not sure yet what I’ll look like, but I’ll be wearing these same glasses, so you can recognize me that way. Don’t be surprised if everything else looks different, though. Day after that will be Friday and I’ll take care of your rat problem. And we’ll leave Sunday. Sound like a plan?”
Everyone agreed, and Crowley answered a few more questions until the youngest cut in with a large yawn. That signaled everyone it was time to wrap up and head to bed. Parents would still expect them to be up and ready for chores in the morning. Crowley sent out a small miracle to ensure all of them would wake up well rested despite the late night.
Crowley remembered to slip his three co-conspirators from earlier their promised extra crust of bread. Of course, he was caught by one of the other kids and they looked at the food with such longing Crowley couldn’t help but pass out extra servings to everyone.
That done, the party split into two different groups as everyone made their way home. Two kids, a boy and girl, lived at the first house they came to. After saying their goodbyes, the girl hesitated a moment before throwing her arms around Crowley in a hug. The demon froze. No one had touched him so casually in at least a century. It took him a moment to realize she was mumbling something into his tunic. It took longer to realize they were expressions of gratitude. He awkwardly placed his hands on her back and patted her. “Now, now, stop that. No thanks needed. You just go inside and get some rest, okay?”
She pulled away and smiled at him. “Yes, sir. Sleep well yourself.”
Her brother, a young teenager, was far too old for such displays of affection, but insisted on shaking his hand and offering his own words of thanks.
“Ngk. Stop that! All of you!” He glared around at the rest of the group, somehow making the expression obvious despite the dark and his glasses. “I don’t want to hear another word of thanks, got it?”
The kids, already starting to figure him out, just grinned angelically at him and agreed to keep quiet.
Until the next house, where he got another hug and thank you. Crowley pushed the kid away and stalked down the street. General had to call him back to tell him he was going the wrong way. They were laughing.
Soon enough, it was just him, General, and her sister and they were standing outside the inn. The younger girl grabbed him in a tight hug, her sister joining a moment later. Crowley had no idea how he felt about so many hugs, but managed to return the gesture.
“C’mon, we should be getting inside. It’s only going to get colder and later if we stay out here any longer,” he said. The touching was getting overwhelming.
Reluctantly, the girls let him go and they made their way inside. It seemed everyone else had already left and gone to bed for the night; no one was in the dining area and their parents were nowhere to be seen. The girls wished him a good night as they entered their room and he entered his.