A Christmas Short – Part 1/4

Hello everyone! Happy December! As the title says, this is part one of four parts of a little Christmas story I wrote. It’s actually an AU (alternate universe) set in the fictional medieval country of my main work in progress, and focuses on three brothers, all very major characters in my story, as they celebrate Christmas together despite their poverty.

As there are four weeks until Christmas, one part shall come out every week (the last part coming out just after Christmas. That being said, my usual schedule of blogging (book review, newsletter week, etc) will not be done this month. Look forward to some changes happening here at the blog soon starting next year!

So without further ado, here is part one of my Christmas Short! Hope you enjoy! ~ Kay Adelin

Part 1

“Three, four, five, and six.”

The copper coins clinked as they dropped into Charles’ hand, and he nodded at his employer. “Thank you, sir.” He slipped the coins into his bag, shivering as a sharp breeze blew through the little village, howling as it passed the narrow streets and little hovels. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” He turned, but his employer’s voice arrested him in his tracks.

“You may borrow my lantern,” he said, taking the little light from its hook on the porch and offering it.

Charles smiled, but shook his head. He wouldn’t take charity. “Thank you for the offer, but I’ll make it all right. Goodbye.” He dashed off the porch and into the street. Gravel crunched under his feet as the last rays of the sun disappeared behind the mountain range looming a few hundred yards away, settling the serene atmosphere of dusk over the sleepy village.

He turned from the main road onto a narrow street, leading upward into one of the smaller mountains towards his home. Despite the thick canopy of trees blocking out what little light the dusky sky afforded, he knew the pathway well.

“Six copper coins this week. That makes thirty-six copper.” His brow furrowed as he reached to remove a pebble from his shoe, the tips of his toes exposed through the hole. He frowned, removing the shoe, his whole body shivering as his bare foot touched the cold grass. I can’t wander around barefoot when the snow comes. And snow would come.

He examined the shoe. Besides the gap at the front, the bottom of his shoe had an old rag spread on the bottom, the soles having giant holes from constant use. New shoes will cost at least ten copper, and I won’t have enough as it is for Christmas. He clenched his fist, replacing his shoe. “I’ll have to make do.”

He turned left at a crossroads, walking until a small, stone cabin appeared, a warm glow emitting from it. He knocked lightly on the door, and a moment later, a small ten-year-old redhead opened it, his hand on his hip and a frown on his face. “You’re late again, Charlie.”

Charlie brushed past him, sighing as the warmth of the house enveloped him. “You’re becoming quite the proverbial mother hen, Robert.”

“Somebody’s got to.” Robert grumbled some more as he motioned toward the coatrack. “Take off your shoes and sit down. I’ll get your dinner.”

He kicked his shoes to the corner, then turned to take in the rest of the room. The back of the cabin had the fireplace, where a wooden table and three stools stood, one of which his youngest brother, Robert’s twin, Dell, sat, eating an egg and cheese sandwich. The twins’ shared bed aligned the left wall, while his cot hung on the right, beside which sat the coatrack and wash bucket. He dropped onto the stool opposite Dell, exhaustion overcoming him. “Hey buddy.”

“Hi Charwie!” Dell’s bright smile made him smile as well, but it faded as Robert placed a sandwich in front of him.

“Where’d these come from?”

“Shane brought them over today,” Robert said, referring to their neighbor. “It was nice of him.” He sat between them, resting his elbows on the table.

He frowned, pushing it away. “Dell, stop eating that. We don’t take charity.”

Dell froze, his sandwich suspended inches from his mouth, and he glanced at Robert.

Robert nodded at him. “You can eat it, Dell.”

Charles raised his brows as Dell resumed his sandwich. “Who do you think you are?”

Robert stood, his eyes flashing. “Would it kill you to take someone’s help for once?”

He stood as well. “We’re not taking charity! And stop acting like you’re my mother!”

“Well, if you’d take care of yourself like you should, I wouldn’t have to! And besides, if taking charity is receiving anything from anyone that you didn’t work for, then Dell and I better not take any more of your help by eating the food or wearing the clothes your provide, since after all, it’s charity! Now sit down and eat your dinner!”

He pursed his lips, unable to think of a good retort. After all, it was good Shane brought them food; all they had was a hard loaf of bread. He dropped onto his stool again and snatched the sandwich, taking a big bite and glaring at Robert as he did so. “Wish you’d act more your age,” he muttered. Though Robert and Dell looked alike, that was their only similarity. Dell acted his age–sometimes a little younger–but Robert acted like a twenty-five-year-old nanny!

“Don’t talk with your mouth full.” Robert stood back and gave a satisfied nod as he saw him continue to eat. “Good.”

“It’s bad manners to correct your elders as well, but you’re still doing it.”

Robert stuck out his tongue at him–finally an age-appropriate response–and he laughed, ruffling his hair and tickling him. “Gah! Stop it, Charlie!” Despite his protests, he too laughed, and Dell, never one to mind his own business, tackled Robert, wrestling his twin to the ground as the two both attempted to beat the other in their tickle-battle.

“All right, all right,” he said, when both lay staring at the ceiling, panting. “To bed with you both.”

They both groaned, but he snapped his fingers, giving them a look. As they tumbled into bed, he tucked them in, Dell’s squirming and Robert’s snickers making it harder to do.

“No talking, you two. Close your eyes and get to sleep; morning will come before you know it.” He patted their shoulders, then crossed to the fireplace. He stared into the fire, calculating how much more he needed to earn, finally taking the box on the mantle and pouring the few coins he’d earned into it.

“Thirty six.” Halfway there. He frowned. Christmas was in two weeks. He’d have to keep working late if he wanted to earn enough to buy what he wanted for the twins’ Christmas presents. “Sorry, Robert,” he whispered, glancing over at the bed where two red heads peeked from beneath the covers. “I’m going to have to be late to dinner for the next couple of weeks.” He curled his fist. I’m going to make this their best Christmas ever.