She motioned for the guards not to act and disembarked from the carriage herself.
"What do you want?" Her voice was calm, betraying no emotion.
The crowd stirred. A middle-aged man who appeared to be their leader stepped forward. One of his arms was in a sling made of a tattered cloth, and his face bore unhealed bruises.
He tried to straighten his stooped back, his voice hoarse but filled with a desperate ferocity. "Food! Leave the food! We only want the food! We… we don't want to hurt anyone, but our children are starving to death!"
Eleanor's gaze swept across the crowd. She saw children, so thin that their large eyes seemed to be all that was left of them, clutched tightly in their mothers' arms. She saw the numb, vacant eyes of the elderly.
She was silent for a moment before asking, "Where are you from? Why don't you seek help from your Lord, or the church?"
