Setting- anywhere between 1200-1600, England
Main Characters (thus far): Sir William of Bristol, Arnaldo Vicente de Roja, Sancho
"God help us! The crimes of our city have infiltrated even the holy places." Sir William of Bristol continued to mutter to himself, as he began to sweep up the broken pieces of All Saint's newly-installed stain glass window. "I would bet at least an eighth of my life that one of those filthy street children are to blame for this!" Picking up an unusually rounded green piece of glass, he was fiercely overtaken with a cunning idea.
. . .
Arnaldo decided to take a different route to work today. The ten-year-old boy was rather big for his age, which came quite in handy when other orphan boys surrounded him in the depths of a deserted alleyway. Arnaldo never came away from these brawls unscathed, but rarely were the others able to overtake him as they planned. Arnaldo experienced enough violence growing up to know that he wanted a different life for himself, and for his best friend Sancho. "Choose your battles, wisely, son" was one of the last things his father said to Arnaldo. Walking in broad daylight along roads such as Pembroke would cause quite a scene among society's noble, but Arnaldo's gait was steady and confident.
He was making his way toward the open markets where he could offer himself for a day's work, emptying crates of goods, loading them onto carts, or sometimes cleaning the floors of a local shoppe (this was his least favorite task). But if he made it through the day, he could buy himself a bite to eat- a comfort to his weary bones before returning to the alley he called home.
All Saints was quickly coming upon him, and he quickened his pace. He detested religious institutions most of all, more than courthouses and prisons and even the orphanage he grew up in. He did not deny God; no, his parents taught him often about the fear of the Lord. Instead, Arnaldo detested the coldness of those who built and attended such churches, for they know God's compassion toward the poor, yet every member he'd ever seen only despised and condemned him and those of less fortune.
"You there! Aren't you the same filthy mut who ran away with the fruit of my garden the other day? I ought to turn you in to the authorities!" Arnaldo spun around to behold the fat, wrinkly man who was now adding unpleasant curses to his accusations against him. How is he able to walk around, with all of that blubber? the boy thought to himself. "Or better still, why don't I introduce you to my cane, first?" screeched the gentleman as he shuffled toward Arnaldo. "It wasn't me!" Arnaldo replied, and he ran toward the church as fast as his sturdy legs could carry him.
Passing the side entrance of All Saints, he noticed that one of the windows, the shape that usually contained beautiful artwork of biblical narratives, was completely missing. Not only that, but not a single shard of glass was to be seen around the ground beneath it. Hearing the yells of his accuser drawing nearer, Arnaldo deftly thrust himself onto the windowsill and into the empty church....
Note: The names of real cities and institutions, such as All Saints
Church, are meant in no way to be derogatory. This is merely a draft; as
I do more research on the time period, etc, certain elements of the
story will be updated/changed :)
Which means to say: I will probably never finish this! ;) be doo wop.
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