While Walker cut bread and cheese for supper and Sophia spent her free time sketching, Wiley saw his chance and reached into Walker’s haversack. Sophia caught his movement behind her in the mirror and turned quickly with a shout, “Hey! What you are doing?”

Wiley stopped abruptly and said defensively, “I was just standing it up. It fell over.”

Sophia retorted, “Your hand is in the bag.” He hastily pulled it out.

Walker came over. Wiley wouldn’t look at him.

“Hey, Wiley,” said Walker. “Were you in my bag?”

“Not really.”

“Were you going to take something?”

“No,” said Wiley. “Just looking.”

“We all have the same things in our bags,” said Sophia. “Why do you need to see what is in Walker’s?”

“I just want to know what you carry in these bags,” he said.

Walker and Sophia were stunned and they turned to look at each other, “Wait—” said Walker, “Don’t you have a bag of your own?”

“Here’s what I’ve got,” said Wiley, picking up his bag from the bunk and holding it out.

They stared at it and then Walker said, “That doesn’t look like the bag the shepherd gave me.”

“It isn’t the good workmanship of the Lord’s leather-workers,” agreed Sophia. “Where did you get it?”

“A shepherd named Mr. Lupus sold it to me. He said it would do everything a King’s Bag would, guaranteed. After he left I looked in mine and it just had some blocks of wood and a handful of hay.”

“To be honest,” said Sophia, “I don’t know what is in mine. It seems to keep on giving.”

“I’ll show you what is in mine,” Walker offered. He picked it up, flipped back the flap and tried to dump it out on the bed, but nothing dropped. He reached in to the narrow opening and pulled out what came to hand. First came his copy of The Letters and then his short sword. But try as he might he could grasp nothing else. He could feel there was more but his hands remained empty. When he peered inside he could see nothing.

“I guess I can’t,” he said reluctantly as he lowered it. “I carry The Letters in my bag but the sword was a gift that came out of it.”

Wiley sneered. “I don’t see a sword. Look, all you King’s travelers carry those bags but they are useless. ‘The King gives us what we need,’ you all say. But there’s nothing there that you didn’t put in it.”

“You don’t see the sword? But look what else I got from it,” Walker exclaimed. He pulled up his shirt to show the kayline. Wiley stared at him, looking from his chest to his face. “What?” he said finally. “I don’t see anything.”

Sophia and Walker looked at one another in dismay. “I can see your sword and kayline, but he can’t,” she said at last.

Wiley stood up and said gruffly, “I’m hungry. Let’s eat.” They sat at the table and ate the fresh bread and cheese Walker had found in the pantry. The cold butter he had taken from the springhouse had softened in the heat enough to spread on the bread and with raspberry jam it made a sweet end to the meal. But in the cold silence it turned bitter in their bellies.

Wiley cleared off the table and the others washed and put away the dishes. Wiley curled up on his sleeping bag, his face to the wall. The storm had moved on and stars were visible in the dark sky. Sophia and Walker felt an urge to step outside and together they looked up at the starfields. Sophia began to softly sing a hymn.

The heavens declare the glory of God; 
The skies proclaim the work of His hands
Through the night, through the day, they silently say,
“He is King and great are His ways.”

He made it all and He made it for us—
The sun, the moon, the seas and the lands,
He is vast, we are small; all is His, He is all.  
He is King and great are His ways.

Sophia sings a simple song while looking at a night sky full of stars.

[This is me trying to sing like an eight-year-old. Extracted from the live recording when I delivered the story in church on July 23, 2023.]