Marcus walked the men up to the front door and nodded them in. it was night, raining, and by the looks of it the men had not seen shelter in weeks.
‘I tried to take them elsewhere - I would not disturb you, Daughter, unless it was an emergency.’
She turned from her foster father to face the men he had brought into her home. Their cloaks were multicolored, but not from the area. The pattern was more complex. Her eyes widened as she looked in to their faces. All had complexions similar to her own, and their eyes were light, as hers.
He continued, ‘You can tell people they are your kinsmen, if you are ashamed-’
‘No, of course not, Father.’ She smiled at the men gathered. ‘You are my new clients and will be treated as such.’ She took the veil from around her head and lowered it. ‘My home is now your home. Friends of my Father’s are always welcome here. There is fresh hay and straw in the back, and water in the well to wash with.’
