“-And so the bear sat himself on his rear legs and pulled himself to his great, furry length-” Dane’s food laid partially eaten in his lap as his hands reached up to mimic the fearsome beast. Medea watched with shining eyes as he mimed the slashing claws. Dane snatched up his wooden spoon and cried out, “Aye, for my sweet lady!” He thrust the spoon like his story’s sword through the beast’s chest and celebrated as the beast died. His eyes twinkled somewhat as he half bowed to the cheers by his audience. “And that is how I defeated the fearsome bear. He was looking for some honey, and found my dear Honey.” He winked on the play of words. “Then dear sweet Honey and I retired to our little tent and, well… I’ll end my story here.” He winked at the openly staring Medea who blushed a deep red.
Jeph rolled his eyes as the theatrics of the man. Personally he felt as though the man should have stayed behind to tell his stories to ladies who- Nevermind. Dane was not worth the time.
Scraping up the last of his food from his plate, he stood and took his leave. The others did not look after him. This he did not mind, as an audience was not what he wanted. He refilled his bowl from the pot of stew and set out.
A short walk across the camp brought him to his destination, a wagon. There was no sound coming from within and he did not bother to rap on the door before entering.
His daughter was curled up on a bed in at the far end. He stepped across the length wagon and sat on a low stool, not caring if he stepped on discarded clothing. A crunch sounded under the heel of his boot. The leftovers of the previous meal’s cup.
“Here’s supper,” he said gruffly. He stiffly sat on the stool and placed the bowl on the edge of the sleeping mat. “Now is the time to eat.” When the lump under the blanket did not move, he repeated himself. There was no response. He sighed.
“Bea, get up and eat. I shan’t waste my time anymore.” He spoke firmly, to remove any doubt that he would bend to her will. She was a stubborn lass, too much like himself at times. Perhaps if her mother had not died so young, she would have grown to be a more proper lady.
Jeph shook his head, grumpily. Now was not the time for his thinking.
“Beatrix, you will get up and eat some supper, lest I drag you out myself!” His frustration overtook him and his voice rose as he spoke. In a fit of anger, he stood and ripped the blanket off the bed.
Beatrix shrieked and clawed for the blanket that Jeph had thrown in the corner. “You monster! You beast!” She screamed and cried like a small, unruly child would. Her fists and heels began to bleed from striking the walls and floors.
Jeph shouted at her, with no care for the group outside the wagon. The shouting match lasted for several minutes until both were hungry for breath. Jeph’s chest heaved silently while Beatrix sobbed with great hiccups.
She curled up on the floor. She had fallen during her fit of rage. Sulkily, still hiccupping, she looked up at her father through tear blurred eyes. Her normally tightly braided hair was wild and tangled, and fell over her eyes, obscuring her vision even more.
“I hate you.”
“You’re a wicked child.”
“Child snatcher.”
“I cannot snatch my own, not while you are still a young lady.”
Their conversation fell into an old pattern. They would tightly snipe at each other after a heated match until another shouting match would begin or someone would leave. The last time Jeph visited her, he had to be dragged out and thrown into the lake. Alys had made some attempts to comfort Beatrix, but her viciousness made her draw away. The girl would insult, spit, and claw those she deemed against her.
“Perhaps I will not be your young lady.”
“Then you would be the wolves’ dinner.”
“I would not let a wolf touch me!” She gritted her teeth in anger.
“Yer a foolish girl.” Jeph sighed as his voice slipped into his common drawl.
“I am not!” She said haughtily. “I am a lady, destined for-”
“Aye, a lady? Then would a lady stay in this hovel? Lay in this filth?” Jeph sat down on a stool. His hands gestured to the wagon walls. “Would a lady allow herself to use that sinnin’ language against others, ta rise a hand against those who help her? No, yer no lady. Ye sit and shriek for what ye wish for. Yer nothin’ but a child. A babe with nothin’.” Beatrix opened her mouth to retaliate, but Jeph forged on. “A lady would be sittin’ out by that campfire and doing her duty. She’d sit and pour her tea and be puttin’ on her lady face for the ‘ole world ta see. ‘Cause she’s a lady and she don’t let others break her. She just sits there all worldly until she makes others get what she wants. She ain’t gonna cry. She better than that.” Jeph stood up. “So quit callin’ yerself a lady, until yer ready ta act like one. Maybe then yer fancy lad would want somethin’ ta do with ya, and not just between the sheets.”
Scraping up the last of his food from his plate, he stood and took his leave. The others did not look after him. This he did not mind, as an audience was not what he wanted. He refilled his bowl from the pot of stew and set out.
A short walk across the camp brought him to his destination, a wagon. There was no sound coming from within and he did not bother to rap on the door before entering.
His daughter was curled up on a bed in at the far end. He stepped across the length wagon and sat on a low stool, not caring if he stepped on discarded clothing. A crunch sounded under the heel of his boot. The leftovers of the previous meal’s cup.
“Here’s supper,” he said gruffly. He stiffly sat on the stool and placed the bowl on the edge of the sleeping mat. “Now is the time to eat.” When the lump under the blanket did not move, he repeated himself. There was no response. He sighed.
“Bea, get up and eat. I shan’t waste my time anymore.” He spoke firmly, to remove any doubt that he would bend to her will. She was a stubborn lass, too much like himself at times. Perhaps if her mother had not died so young, she would have grown to be a more proper lady.
Jeph shook his head, grumpily. Now was not the time for his thinking.
“Beatrix, you will get up and eat some supper, lest I drag you out myself!” His frustration overtook him and his voice rose as he spoke. In a fit of anger, he stood and ripped the blanket off the bed.
Beatrix shrieked and clawed for the blanket that Jeph had thrown in the corner. “You monster! You beast!” She screamed and cried like a small, unruly child would. Her fists and heels began to bleed from striking the walls and floors.
Jeph shouted at her, with no care for the group outside the wagon. The shouting match lasted for several minutes until both were hungry for breath. Jeph’s chest heaved silently while Beatrix sobbed with great hiccups.
She curled up on the floor. She had fallen during her fit of rage. Sulkily, still hiccupping, she looked up at her father through tear blurred eyes. Her normally tightly braided hair was wild and tangled, and fell over her eyes, obscuring her vision even more.
“I hate you.”
“You’re a wicked child.”
“Child snatcher.”
“I cannot snatch my own, not while you are still a young lady.”
Their conversation fell into an old pattern. They would tightly snipe at each other after a heated match until another shouting match would begin or someone would leave. The last time Jeph visited her, he had to be dragged out and thrown into the lake. Alys had made some attempts to comfort Beatrix, but her viciousness made her draw away. The girl would insult, spit, and claw those she deemed against her.
“Perhaps I will not be your young lady.”
“Then you would be the wolves’ dinner.”
“I would not let a wolf touch me!” She gritted her teeth in anger.
“Yer a foolish girl.” Jeph sighed as his voice slipped into his common drawl.
“I am not!” She said haughtily. “I am a lady, destined for-”
“Aye, a lady? Then would a lady stay in this hovel? Lay in this filth?” Jeph sat down on a stool. His hands gestured to the wagon walls. “Would a lady allow herself to use that sinnin’ language against others, ta rise a hand against those who help her? No, yer no lady. Ye sit and shriek for what ye wish for. Yer nothin’ but a child. A babe with nothin’.” Beatrix opened her mouth to retaliate, but Jeph forged on. “A lady would be sittin’ out by that campfire and doing her duty. She’d sit and pour her tea and be puttin’ on her lady face for the ‘ole world ta see. ‘Cause she’s a lady and she don’t let others break her. She just sits there all worldly until she makes others get what she wants. She ain’t gonna cry. She better than that.” Jeph stood up. “So quit callin’ yerself a lady, until yer ready ta act like one. Maybe then yer fancy lad would want somethin’ ta do with ya, and not just between the sheets.”
With that, Jeph left the wagon and shut the door behind him. Before him stood the whole crew of the camp, watching from the safe distance of the campfire. He sighed, but straightened his back and re-joined them without a word. Slowly the conversation began to flow again.
Inside the wagon, Beatrix remained slumped on the floor. Slowly, with hesitation, she stood and reached for her clothes chest.
Inside the wagon, Beatrix remained slumped on the floor. Slowly, with hesitation, she stood and reached for her clothes chest.