Ten years ago…
"Ezra Belloren, come here right now!" Aamon's voice rang through the room.
Ezra, fourteen years old and stubborn as ever, was crouched behind the bed.
"No!"
"Don't make me drag you out of there," Aamon warned.
"Then drag me!" Ezra shouted back.
He pulled his knees tighter to his chest, wrapping his arms around them.
'I am not coming back out there.'
For a moment, everything went quiet.
Ezra heard Aamon sigh.
Then footsteps.
Ezra tensed immediately.
'He's actually going to drag me…'
But instead of hands grabbing him, the mattress shifted.
The bed dipped slightly.
Aamon had sat down.
"Hah," Aamon muttered. "Ezra, you beat those kids up. Their parents are complaining. They want you punished."
Ezra buried his face against his knees.
'They deserved it.'
"I can't keep covering for you," Aamon continued with another tired sigh. "And you can't keep fighting every squire that pisses you off."
