Fist of Mercy

A slight breeze caused the branches of the trees to sway and flutter as if waving to her as she skipped by, her arms full of the goods she had purchased at the market place. The day was hot with no sign of rain and even the slight breeze was refreshing. She must hurry to get back before her fruit wilted before her eyes and the milk turned sour in the heat.

Nearing the small house she saw George grazing and smiled to herself, she wondered where Ernie could be and hoped he wouldn’t sneak up on her again. He had taken to doing this and had caused her to spill milk and even ale on several occasions. If she didn’t know better it would have even sounded like he chuckled afterwards.

She crept up to the door but Ernie was nowhere to be seen. She cautiously opened the door, still no goose.

The house was refreshingly cool inside and she breathed the air in large gulps. She set her goods down on the table and took up a beaker, filling it with...