Word of the Week: Latrociny


Latrociny, robbery; brigandage.

(Source: worldwidewords.org)

___________________Use In a Sentence___________________

“Woe be onto me.”

“Did you hear that?”

“Hush, Mildred, or we’ll get into trouble. Just walk on.”

“Woe, woe, woe.”

“Someone is in distress, Olga, we cannot simply leave them be, stranger or no.”

“Friend or foe? We do not know. Come, we should go.”

“That’s not amusing in the least, perhaps he’s injured somehow.”

“Sounds as though he is lamenting something of the soul rather than of the body, and for such ailments we have no remedy ready to us — Olga!”

“How now, young man?”

“Who goes there?”

“Peace be with you. I am Olga and my friend is Mildred. May we aid you in any way to stop your sorrowful moaning?”

“I doubt there is an aid in this world for what I must suffer.”

“Tell us and we shall judge your statement fairly and speedily. We’re both fairly bright.”

“I have lead a life of latrociny, of squander and leeching off the better half of society. Now I sit here, in wait for my next benefactor, and I suddenly came to the understanding that this life is no life at all. It is a half-life, always on the outer rim of what everyone around me seem in the midst of. Tell me, fair maiden, should I think me deserving anything better after having wasted these near five-and-twenty years on… oblivion.”

“Dear sir.”

“I am no sir, mistress. I am but a penniless, futureless, dried up heap of dirt and bones that should lie here until I look the part, not only feel it.”

“I must protest!”

“Of course you do. Olga, I’ve had enough of this. He is clearly at his wits end and we should leave him to his final thoughts in solitary meditation. We are disturbing his final hours.”

“Mildred, how can you be so careless with a life? Young man, you shall come with us.”

“Olga!”

“Come with you?”

“Yes. To the farm that is our home, where you will help with cleaning the barn, bringing in the hay, tending the garden, and where you, in the simplest of tasks, will have returned to you the joy of living and where your feeling of seclusion from all the world will be swiftly swept away. I assure you. Now, come.”

“Master Jonas will not be pleased with you. I want nothing to do with this decision, you understand?”

“Yes, Mildred.”

They continue along the country road, the young man now having joined them.

“Is it a large farm?”

“It is. Near a thousand kettle and fifty workers, housed in the surrounding fields, some tending their own plots of land. You must be married, however, to be allowed your own plot of land.”

“And you are not?”

“No.”

“Is the great house a large house?”

“Oh, yes. It is beautiful to behold. The prettiest house in a seventy mile radius, people always say. It holds the finest collection of silver this side of the Themes.”

“Silver? You don’t say. Imagine that. But I suppose the silver is nothing compared to the riches of the earth. The gold of the harvest. It must be something out of the ordinary to see your hard labor paid off with a loaf of bread on your table.”

“Why, yes, indeed, it is.”

The young man smiles and so does Olga.

Mildred, however, frowns at them.

“The silver is under lock-and-key. Guarded by Mistress Karen.”

“As it should be.”

“Mildred, you are being uncouth.”

“I understand why she should be. I would be surprised if she wasn’t. I have no eye for the silver and no mind for it. My woes would now be deepened one-hundred fold should I stray and in the process hurt my two saviors. Trust me.”

Mildred snorts, but Olga smiles up at him as they disappear down a soft down-hill of the road.

________________________________________________________

Hmmm, could he be trusted or not, I wonder…

 

 

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~ by mescribe on February 26, 2011.

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