Tears started in her eyes. “Unkindly spoken, my lord. He could hardly be crueler. Do you think I tend the children because I am too weak for other work? Lord Argent commands that I abide here, and increases the tithe to assure it. Everyone else works the fields from first light to last, praying to grow or glean enough to survive the winter. If I stay, many of us will die of hunger. If I go, their deaths may be swifter — even kinder.” Her voice rose passionately, and she pressed Laurence closer to her.
“If I am not here, he has no reason to continue to oppress this one village.”
A look of horror flickered across his features at both her words, and the tears shimmering in her eyes, before his expression softened and he lowered his head in shame. “I’m sorry, Summer…I spoke without thinking, I’m afraid. But if you really want me to take you away from this place, then I will…but can you honestly stand the thought of being away from your brother, and these other children?” he murmured lowly, watching the two siblings continue to curl together.
She hid her tears in Laurence’s hair, and the boy petted her wrist. He didn’t squirm, but instead sat patiently, an odd thing to do for a boy of four or five. Finally she murmured, “I had rather be parted from them for the rest of their life, knowing that there will be a rest of their life. I am selfish, my lord, I cannot bear to watch them die if I can possibly save them.”
Laurence did begin to struggle then, pushing away from her with a look of horror on his small face. “You promised momma,” he whimpered. “You promised.”
“Some promises must be broken, for the sake of others,” she told him, smoothing his hair out of his dirty, tear-stained face.
“Go with him!” the boy wailed, pointing at Sir Isaac.
“I cannot. He is right, don’t you see, Law?”