It was the year 1005. The sun had not risen, and from Mrs. Lambert's window, the sweet aroma of pies lingered, teasing one's nose.

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Two paces over, in a worn-out mat, a young boy balled up in a blanket, tossed and turned. Beside him lay a small table with a roll of days’ old bread, which mice nibbled and gnawed upon. Waking to the song of a rooster's crow, he sprang up, stretching his arms as he shoved his feet into worn-out leather shoes, rushing out the door.