Health Inspector George Maltby

From the local greasy, to a stainless-steel ‘palace’, George’s council badge authorised his entrance backstage into every eatery in London.

And when the Department of Health came calling, the temperature of those fuming kitchens sweltered with the anxiety of his scrutiny.

Very quickly the tempo would shift from its ordinary organised speed: the cooks would fumble, the dish-licks would crash the crockery, and the animosity was palpable.

Grills would cackle; refrigerators groaned, pans hissed and the fryers would spit at him, all together, in the heated moment.

And so, through the smoke and fetid odors, amongst the surgical tables and high powered hoses, George consorted with the long hats, and their starch-aproned drones - overseeing these lofty souls, initiated into the mysterious culinary arts that lay hidden from the front-of-store, and the hungry public.

He perused the stock, searched for moulds: read carefully through the use-by dates - George checked fingernails for filth, and made sure that the floors were non-slip and shining clean.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, AZLANDER: NEVER ENDINGS: Second Chances

Wolf & Water

“May I borrow your flask Brother?" asked Francis casually.

Tobias shook his head. "It is drained dry" he said, quietly lamenting.

Nonetheless Francis reached out his hand, and Tobias gave it over.

"Might I also have your rope?" he now asked - pointing to his waist tie.

Tobias reluctantly complied.

‘What next?’, he thought to himself wryly.

Francis threaded the cord through the beaten hook of the metal cup that jiggled its hinged lid as he slung it over the needle-haired neck of the she-wolf. It sat upon her spiky breast like a giant medallion. He murmured something so softly that only a wolf could hear, and she bolted away.

"Francesco, what is this pantomime?” asked Tobias confounded by his own anxiety. “That was my only flask!” he protested......

Tobias had not expected to stay for any great length of time. He was perplexed.

The wolf reappeared as abruptly as she had left, and Francis unhooked the cup from her neck, handing it back to Tobias. It was heavy with water.

"Know the need, short come the answer" said Francis, who whilst declaring this axiom, looked upon Tobias with the confidence of one who is self-sure of another's love.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, “AZLANDER: NEVER ENDINGS: Second Chances

Toughened Fare

He took from his neck a large string of salted beef that was pearled like a rosary, that he wore concealed beneath his tunic. He motioned to Francis to sit and join him for a breakfast.

The wolf, who had also now risen from her bed, stretched, bristled, and leaned in closer.

She seemed to be glaring a little too intensely for Toby’s liking, disturbing the young Monk’s concentration. With a hurried dedication he broke away some of the chunks, handing two lumps to the fractious animal.

Francis divided his beef, giving also the wolf her lot. The three sat chewing for a short time on their toughened fare.

Tobias found it frightening to sit this close to a wild dog. She was twice the size of any domestic, baring her huge teeth with a snarl of a smile. Foamy globs of drool kept dropping from her open jaw. She held her gaze upon his rations that remained.

These portions were planned to last two days more and Tobias had no mind to appease the animal of her want.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, AZLANDER: NEVER ENDINGS: Second Chances

Putting on the Robe

“Will you be putting the robe on then?" Tobias asked using the tone of a scolding elder.

"Very well.” Francis placated, reaching for the cloth.

“Blessed Toby I have worn a costume all of my life and it constricts me - yet to please you this morn, I will cover myself in the name of modesty ..."

He threw the sewn cloth over his head, and it fell short, reaching just above his knees.

Tobias did not reply, but quietly smiled. ‘There is hope’ he thought to himself.

- Gabriel Brunsdon, AZLANDER: NEVER ENDINGS: Second Chances

Lying there amongst the Leaves

“Francesco Bernardone will you awake for me now, else you clot with the cold?" a voice yelled fiercely, sounding genuinely troubled, and almost frantic.

The figure on the ground had all the appearance of one who was dead. Francesco was already much leaner from his forest fasting. His form was shrunken - elderly - lying there amongst the leaves, in an open hut, undressed, with only the warmth of the wolf that lay there beside him.

The young monk Tobias, had only now found Francis after months of searching for him, and was deeply concerned by what he saw.

He quickly loosened his outer cassock and shrugged it off. It was not unusual for the Brothers to wear two layers in the colder months. He picked his rougher tunic up from the ground and placed it thoughtfully over the dozing man.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, AZLANDER: NEVER ENDINGS: Second Chances

His Magical Ways

As a youth he [Francis] grew to be exceedingly tall - and became the largest man in the county - his magical ways sun-struck the adolescent girls, who would compete to bring gifts, laughing with a nervous melody - each girl wearing their finest dress, braiding their scented hair, trying persistently to win his attention.

Groups would gather outside his father's house, until the late hours, just on the off chance that he would come out of the villa to greet them.

Some men were intoxicated by his handsomeness also - which did not go well, or unnoticed. The only person to whom this was unbeknown to was Francis himself, who, with very little vanity, took all friendships with a casual and unquestioning acceptance.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, AZLANDER: NEVER ENDINGS: Second Chances

Strange - almost Beguiling

Francis would often sing his sentences, rather than speak them ordinarily. His voice was so cordial it seemed to quieten and calm everyone who heard it.

“It is very strange that he should sing as he does” - the village had said with criticism. And it was strange - almost beguiling.

He was not simple minded, yet held little concern for wealth or future prosperity. No sooner had he coins in his purse, he would give them away to whoever might ask him. And, there were so many in need, who did so ask.

Often, when sent to the market, Francis had returned with the produce, and no change from the purchase left over. His mother was constantly making excuses for their narrowed budget.

Francis, had thought nothing of giving away all that he had in the moment, as charity came naturally to him.

He would save scraps of cloth from Pietro's weavery for the poorest families, to help wrap their infants and their bread. He even brought leftovers from his own table down into the streets below, leaving them on the bottom steps for the beggars and the birds.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, AZLANDER: NEVER ENDINGS: Second Chances