As if the threat of a thunderstorm looming on the horizon wasn't bad enough, Harper found himself shoved up against the wall of an abandoned house within the slums of the city as the encroaching warning to an abysmal evening boomed overhead. 

"You blasted thief! Give back the coins you stole from our master!" The lad in front of him yelled as he held Harper against the home by his neck. He could have broken away quite easily, as the boy seemed more focused on being loud, than actually holding him with any real strength, but Harper knew that the two others he'd brought along with him would gladly tackle him to the ground if he dared try to escape. 

When the boy, whose name Harper recalled as something close to Gregory or Georgie, finally stopped baying like a hound in heat, Harper shrugged his shoulders and gave him a half-smile. "I do apologize, but I was starving, and as your master is clearly three times my size in spare girth alone, I figured that he could spare a few coins to provide a starving boy with some food." 

The three lads seemed to get even more upset at his words, which was nothing new to Harper. He tended to have quite the tongue on him, or so he'd been told. 

"Listen here, you girly-boy." Always picking on the few small braids in my hair. Harper mused as he was hoisted off his feet, now quite uncomfortable due to his air being slowly cut off. "You will return those coins to me right this moment or I will drag you to the magistrate for theft and laugh quite gleefully as they remove your hands for the offense!" 

Seeing his chance for escape slipping away breath by breath, Harper decided that he had to act at that moment. He quite preferred having two hands, and didn't intend to lose either. Especially not because he'd taken a fat globs three bronze pieces. They had barely been enough to feed him for four days, sparingly. 

Pursing his dry lips, Harper pushed against the house behind him and shoved his feet forward. His kick caught the boy off guard, which was no surprise. Just because you got lucky and found a job with a snobby rich man, doesn't mean that you are any better than me. He thought as he was dropped to the ground. 

In an instant, he saw the boy's two friends lunge for him. Harper hurriedly snatched up his worn gray cap, which had fallen from his head when he'd first hit the wall, and shoved it down onto his messy black hair as he darted off into the bustling street.  

Except, that the street wasn't quite as bustling as it had been moments earlier. There were still a lot of people, but they had all split to either side of the dusty path, leaving a large gap right in the middle where Harper had stopped. 

What's going on? 

The sudden sound of a man yelling broke through Harper's confusion, bringing his attention to the coach that had just been forced to halt because of him. The extremely well groomed white horses that were hitched to it, and their adornments, told him enough about the wealth of their owner. 

Another greedy lord or lady come to flaunt their wealth. 

The driver of the animals yelled again, drawing Harper's gaze up to him. 

"Move yourself, boy! You're in the way." 

The man was clean shaven and dressed well, but he still had a grimy look to him that Harper couldn't explain. Like a beautiful venomous snake waiting patiently in the grass for someone to make the mistake of stepping upon it. 

Tugging his cap down a little further, Harper turned toward the horses, eyeing the pristine white coach they were pulling. Whoever was inside would likely have plenty of money on them, but the risk of being shot was far too high to make the theft worthwhile. 

"Boy! Are you deaf or daft! Get out of the bloody way!" The driver yelled as he stomped toward him at the same time the three boys he'd previously been dealing with pushed themselves free of the crush of people to his left. 

Time to go, but before I do... 

Ducking forward, Harper ran straight for the fat man hobbling toward him, his face red and hand raised with the horse whip at the ready. Harper wasn't the least bit surprised that the man was considering using the weapon against him. He was, after all, just a street lad. 

With a quirk of his lips, Harper hurried forward, ducking under the crack of the whip as it came down to snap the ground somewhere just behind him. "I'll be helpin' ya lighten your pockets, good sir, so that you might learn to walk without fallen over." Harper teased as he darted his hand into the man's jacket pocket. 

Aha. I knew he'd have something. They always did. 

He couldn't look at what the coins actually were yet, however, because before he could even consider checking, the door to the coach slammed open. Harper was forced to drop to his knees and bow his head abruptly, just barely dodging getting hit right in the forehead by the large door. 

Whoever was inside had likely come out to help their companion, and Harper had no interest in meeting them, or their gun, face to face. With a newfound sense of urgency, he crawled hastily beneath the coach and emerged on the other side in seconds. As soon as he was back on his dirty, bare feet, Harper bolted as fast as his legs could carry him. 

The sound of two sets of boots following him made Harper push himself harder, but having not eaten for over a day, he could already feel himself running out of energy after a few mere minutes. Need to find some way to lose them, quickly. He thought as he ran through a bustling market, the stand owners making their last sales before the storm crept too close to safely pack up. 

The loud rumble of thunder was a welcomed sound. If the rain would just come, he could easily get away. Nobles hated getting their precious expensive clothing wet. And getting mud on the cloth or fancy leather boots? There was not a single one that would tolerate such a thing... or that's what he'd thought as he made it to the end of the lane and the sky opened up with another loud roar of thunder. 

Darkness began to creep over the town as the storm grew in intensity with little heed to those currently caught in it. Harper was doing his best to keep ahead of the boots he could still hear behind him, but he was running out of breath, and even more quickly running out of places to run. The river was coming up fast. 

"Halt, boy!" 

The deep voice that boomed from behind him, almost as loud as the thunder, spurred Harper to use the last bit of his energy to try and get away. He was soaked by the time he took the last turn toward the bridge that crossed the river Thames, and he knew that both men were still behind him. 

You cannot get caught now. You will lose your hands or be hung for sure! 

Determined, he pushed himself toward the guard railing leading to the churning water below. He knew that the lords, or whomever was following him, wouldn't dare do so to the point of jumping into the river. Especially not for a few meager coins from their driver's pocket. 

"Arthur, don't! The boy's going to jump!" A second voice yelled over the storm. 

Harper didn't wait or check to see if Arthur listened to his friend or not. The moment he was close enough, he leaped up onto the railing, then lunged forward toward the open water. Once in mid-air he expected to be safe... or, well, as safe as a swim in the frigid river during a storm would be considered. He didn't think that the two men would still try to stop him. 

A firm hand grasped his bare ankle in a strong, solid grip right as he began dropping down toward the rushing water. "You won't be getting away today, thief!" The man, Arthur, shouted as he began pulling Harper back up toward the railing. 

The man's friend was soon there to grasp his other ankle, forcing him up onto the railing, then right down to the hard ground. "You have a lesson coming, boy." The other man said as Harper felt something tight wrap around his wrists, securing them easily behind his back before he was yanked up to his feet. 

One pair of strong hands dropped from holding his wrists to pulling apart his tightly-clasped fingers until the few coins he'd managed to steal fell out. "All of this trouble for two silver coins." Arthur said, stepping around to his front in the pouring rain. Harper didn't dare look up. If he could find a way to escape, he needed to be sure that they couldn't recognize his face in the future. He was a common thief, but having bright purple eyes wasn't a common feature at all. He'd also lost his ratty cap, likely when he'd been pulled back up over the bridge railing, so he had no way of hiding his gaze if the men truly tried to lean over and look unless he kept his eyes shut tight.   

The sound of the coach's wheels coming down the cobblestone road made Harper's empty stomach churn uneasily. It came to a stop before them and the man behind him pushed him toward the door Arthur opened. Harper didn't fight as he was shoved inside and onto the hard polished wooden floor. He remained still as the two men climbed inside, panting quietly to try and steady his breathing. 

"My my, what are you lads doing with such a young child?" A much older voice asked from above him. Harper remained where he was and just listened as the door was shut and latched. 

"He stole two silver coins from Goddard. We need to take him in once we drop you off at your home, sir Marksworth." Arthur replied. 

There was silence for a moment before Harper heard someone leaning over. The smell of tobacco and brandy met his nose, making it wrinkle slightly. "Are you sure this is a lad, Arthur?" The older man questioned. His words caught Harper so off-guard that his eyes snapped open, revealing their odd color for just a moment before he shut them again. 

"Well I'll be. What an interesting lass you've found," the older man went on, seemingly not even giving Arthur a chance to respond to his previous question. 

There was the sound of two other people leaning over, and a knee hitting the wood just behind him, but Harper forced himself to keep his eyes closed. "I cannot believe that this is a lass, sir Marksworth. His clothing alone is completely inappropriate for a female." The other, younger man said. Harper felt him leaning over his form, but thankfully he didn't try to touch him in any way. 

"I am old, lads, but surely you can see the small bit of braids scattered about in the lass's hair, and I would be flummoxed if I ever saw such beautiful eyes on a lad. I have no doubt that she'd dressed in boy's clothing and cut her hair to be safer while living in the streets." 

There was a disgruntled response from behind him before the older man spoke again. 

"Lassie, why exactly were you stealing?" 

Harper swallowed a lump he'd felt forming in his throat from nerves and licked his shivering lips. He was not worried about sounding like a boy, as his voice had never really gotten very deep as he'd aged. He didn't sound like a child, but he also didn't sound like an adult male. It often worked to his advantage, and he could easily make himself sound younger, and even a little like a female. 

"Hungry, sir." He replied without opening his eyes. 

A strong hand settled over his side for a moment feeling his protruding ribs, the action making him flinch as he shivered beneath the warm palm. "Perhaps she is telling the truth, but sir, there are plenty of well trained servants to pick from, surely you would not take a thief that knows nothing of use to you." Arthur said as Harper heard him return back to his seat, the bench creaking slightly with his weight. 

"Nonsense, Arthur. I explained to you earlier that I just wish for a simple service maid. Lassie, would you care to help an old man tend his property with a few others in exchange for a roof over your head and a meal in your belly?"

The offer was not something Harper would have expected from his current predicament. Slowly, he allowed his eyes to open once more, then glance up at the older man. He looked very well off in his white petticoat, matching pants and shined black boots. 

"Well, lass? Would you care for such a deal? If not, I'm afraid that I'll have to leave you to these two when I depart." The man said, giving Harper a conspiratorial wink as he heard a groan behind him. 

"Yes, make it clear that she either comes with you or gets justice by being turned in by us." Arthur grumbled, clearly frustrated with the man's offer. 

The older gentleman laughed as he reached to his side and lifted a folded blanket from the seat. It wasn't too large and looked to be made of some type wool. When he settled it over him, Harper couldn't withhold a sigh as the fabric warded off a good portion of the chill that had overtaken him. 

"See there, lads? She's just a lass who needs a bit of kindness shown to her. Just you wait, in a few years time, she'll be the sweetest, demure maid who works hard and gladly to earn her keep." 

Harper couldn't argue with the man. His logic was sound. He would gladly work for him if he was offered food and a place free from the elements. As the three men turned their conversation to politics, the younger two clearly frustrated with the old man over his decision, Harper found himself nodding off. His clothing was still damp, but he was unable to keep himself awake beneath the thick blanket slowly warming his tired body.