Paul scrambled over the wall, silently but still with more noise than he would have liked, and dropped onto the turf below. His information had been correct: there was food here for the taking. Like most thieves of the age, he was little interested in gold and valuables, more in food and those things which he could use. There were awful few pawn shops, and fewer that would buy jewelry from a dirty child.

Almost effortlessly, he blended into the shadows and crept up to the house. The roasted beef sat on top of the stove in the kitchen, having very recently been taken from the fire. As Paul approached the door, he could be seen to visibly salivate as he saw and smelled the meat as it sat in view just inside the door. His face appeared, peeking from the shadows before the rest of his body stealthily inched forward. He compressed like a spring before suddenly leaping forward and taking the pan in his hands, protected by thick cloth wrappings.

Before his hands got around the pan, and unbeknownst to him, a thin lasso darted out and caught around his right wrist. Paul turned to make his escape and the string pulled taut, causing him to drop the food and lurch back toward the one holding it. He was pulled into a tight and constricting embrace as the owner of those arms restrained him and called for help.

Before Paul could recover from the shock, he was hogtied and surrounded by soldiers. Now too overpowered, he knew his limit and fell quiet. Like an opossum, he lay limp as the men carried him out and dumped him into a standing wagon. As soon as their backs were turned, Paul sprang to life, trying to break his restraints and escape despite being securely bound. He growled and yelled as he attempted to bite through the cords binding his hands until his captors jumped into the wagon and suppressed him again.

Paul fell asleep after the futility of his situation became clear as they rattled down the cobblestones towards the city center. His head jostled side to side as they bumped over the uneven paving stones, but he remained asleep as only children are able through the entire ride.

It was in a large, high ceiling room that he awoke on a soft mattress. Paul sat bolt upright and surveyed his surroundings with a keen eye, searching for any weaknesses which he might be able to overcome. The doors were all closed, and he presumed, locked. Two tall windows let in the sunlight, though they were equipped with twisted iron bars too narrow for him to squeeze through. Stumped, he sat in the middle of the bed and crossed his arms and legs.

Not long after he awoke, he heard a latch being moved behind one of the doors and it was opened enough to admit two men; the man who captured him entered first, followed by another who was older and clearly the superior in rank.

“This is the boy,” the older one asked as he sized Paul up from head to toe.

“Yes, Prince,” the other man said. He showed deference to his ruler while still being confident in his position. “He slipped past our men on several occasions and took only what was usable to him immediately. I wouldn’t have caught him if it had not looked over at exactly the right moment.” His words stung Paul; this series of events seemed to have led to his demise through chance rather than by the cunning of a superior adversary. The man’s tone, however, was one of humility and respect for the skill that Paul had shown.

“Thank you, Alan,” the Prince said, “now we must see what we can do about it.” He walked toward Paul, his head held high and his shoulders squared in a regal posture. On his way, he grabbed the backrest of a chair and dragged it across the ornate wood floor until he came to Paul’s face.

The chair legs slammed down as he let it fall back and sat on it so that he was nearly face to face with Paul. Alan stood at the Prince’s shoulder and nobody spoke for a long time. Finally, the Prince spoke again in soft tones though his voice was naturally harsh. “Have you ever heard the tale of Aladdin?”

Paul shook his head.

“How about King David?”

Again, a negative.

“This may be hard to explain, then. I want you to stay here and learn what you can; you’ve already shown your worth and I think you can do a great deal more.”

“Why me?”

“You slipped past most of my best men, and you nearly got past Mr. Moon here. That skill is very valuable to me at certain times.”

Paul made no reply, but glanced briefly at Mr. Moon before dropping his gaze again. The Prince continued, “I will leave you here with him. I’d like to see you cleaned up before dinner arrives. You will dine with me tonight.”

As the prince departed, Paul caught a glimpse of another young boy about his age who had been listening at the keyhole. The door closed again and he turned back to Mr. Moon, fully meeting his gaze this time. “Come,” Mr. Moon said, “let us get you in a bath.” He went to the door and spoke a few quiet words to a servant outside, who then left and returned shortly with a large pail of steaming water. Three more servants brought water and they all deposited their warm contents into the large basin in one end of the room.

“Get those clothes off,” Mr. Moon said to Paul, “there is a fresh set waiting for you after you bathe.”

The water was unlike anything Paul has ever experienced. He sunk into its deep, warm embrace and felt like he could live there forever. A bar of soap was provided for him, but he had no idea how it was to be used until Mr. Moon explained it to him. Much like the dirt, his rough and callous exterior washed away in the bath and he dissolved into being a child again. It was not long before he had gotten Mr. Moon nearly as wet as he and the floor was a slippery mess. It was not to last, however, as the water cooled and he was forced to exit and dry his for-the-first-time clean body and dress in the princely clothes set aside for him.

He entered the dining room behind Mr. Moon and the layout of food was astounding to him. Never had Paul seen so much food in one place. The prince was seated next to his wife, and a boy around the same age as Paul sat next to her on the other side. Mr. Moon walked around the table and took his seat on the prince’s right side as Paul followed him nervously. “Let us thank the Lord,” the prince began as he folded his hands together and rested his elbows on the table. Mr. Moon bumped Paul and indicated wordlessly that he should follow suit as everyone else folded their hands before the prince launched into a long prayer. He thanked God for their health, the food, the prosperity of their state, and other things before he gave thanks for finding Paul and asked that he grant Paul the strength of character to learn how to lead and how to rule if it was ever necessary.

“Amen.”

Thus began the first honest hot meal which Paul had ever enjoyed without stealing the food first.