In Which Norwan Takes Back His Own

January 7, 1156

"So you're back," Norwan sneered between gritted teeth. "Now I won't have to clean my own house anymore."

Thetis didn't reply. Stupid as always, she stood between the two men, her dull eyes cast upon the baby she held. It was a boy, Norwan had been told, named Byrn after his mother's father--it seemed as though Norwan had wasted wishes by hoping the boy wouldn't take after her. This little thing was just as ugly as his mother, and probably one hell of a lot noisier too. But he would grow to be much tougher than she, that Norwan would make sure of.

Scowling, Lord Severin leaned toward him, his eyes two mahogany daggers. "I'm warning you, if you hurt either of them in any way, I won't hesitate to take action."

"Forgive me, my lord, but you have no power here," hissed Norwan in reply. "This is King Roderick's shire, and you can't get to me without going through him."

The other man seemed quite unfazed. "Believe me, Goodman Ciramel; King Roderick will be no trouble."

Norwan knew how to pick his battles--he was in need of a less formidable foe. "Thetis!" he addressed his wife.

"Bring him inside, then make me some lunch!"

"Not even a friendly 'hello'," sighed the stranger who had accompanied them. "You were right, Severin; his soul is an appalling dump heap with the most disgraceful assortment of deplorable rubbish imaginable."

"Mangled up in tangled up knots," Lord Severin added. "Thetis, it isn't too late to take up my offer, you realize."

"Thetis, if you don't get inside the house right this minute, the king will know about this!" barked Norwan. "And you don't want to cause any trouble for this nice lord, do you?"

Thetis shook her head weakly. "No..."

"Good! Now get in the damn house, slut!"

Little Byrn looked up at his father, out of those same scared teal eyes Norwan saw every time he looked at Thetis.

His tiny lip quivered, just as hers often did; the resemblence was uncanny. He would need to somehow find some assurance that this was actually his child.

Nodding, Thetis slowly filed past him and toward the front door. Norwan glared at Lord Severin and his companion. "I understand that you're the lord of the next shire, but since we're in this one, I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

"You be good to her," the noble warned him. "You'd better treat her like a goddess."

"That's a sin."

"So is treating her like an animal."

Animal, Norwan thought bitterly to himself as the two men started down the road. I sure as hell don't treat her like an animal. No... I treat her like a woman.

Angrily, he burst through the door and shoved past Thetis, who had been mindlessly loitering just inside.

"Why the hell are you just standing there?" he demanded of her. "Useless woman!"

He could see a tear welling up in her eye, but once again, she kept her mouth shut.

"Put him to bed, Thetis."

"Yes, Norwan," she whimpered in reply.

She glanced down at Byrn, the two identical pairs of eyes locking. Two of those eyes were bad enough--now there would be four. At least there would never be six, he could assure himself; now that she had born him a male heir, he wouldn't bother to force her. The local whores, he was sure, would be much more fun.

He watched her as she placed the infant in his crib. She had retained very little of the baby weight, he noticed; if anything, she looked thinner. Surely that lord had fed her well; how was it that she was still as bony as ever?

"You, uh... wanted lunch?" she asked him timidly as she emerged from behind the baby's curtains.

He couldn't help but bare his teeth as he looked at her. She was a mother and a wife, but she looked like a common tramp. No half-respectable woman would walk around looking like that.

"First, I want you to do something about your hair."

Thetis gaped at him. "Sorry?"

"Your hair, idiot girl!" he snapped. "You look like a harlot with it hanging down like that all the time. Now that you're a mother, I expect you to start looking like one, so go put your goddamn hair up or I'll tear it all out!"

"Oh... oh please, N-norwan," she stuttered, placing her face in her hands in a vain attempt to hide her tears. "My m-mother wore h-hers like I d-do..."

"Your mother was a filthy whore, just like you!" roared Norwan. "Now go and do as I said, you insufferable wench!"

Defeated, Thetis trudged into the bedroom, sulking all the while. She would no longer be sleeping in that room, he had decided months earlier. No, she could sleep at the table, on the floor, in the field... he didn't care. As long as she was on his property and out of his bed, he didn't give a damn about where she slept.

Since she was now out of his sight, he now felt free to take a good look at the baby--as annoying as two of those eyes were, four were much worse.

"You better pray you're mine, brat," Norwan muttered darkly to the infant. "You got no idea what I'm gonna do to that mother of yours if you're not."

That lip quivered once more; it would be a challenge, making a man out of this boy.

But it didn't matter. He had an heir now. He had a son to help him in the field and to pass on the house to when he died. He'd make a man out of Byrn even if he'd been born a mouse.

Norwan took a seat at the kitchen table; he was getting hungry, and Thetis owed him the best lunch she'd ever made in her whole pathetic life.

He turned to look as the bedroom door creaked open and she emerged. Those eyes seemed even more prominent now that all that hair was out of them, and he didn't like the look of her cheek bones, as well as her large ears. Oh well; an ugly, respectable wife was better than a slightly less ugly wife who looked like a whore.

"Better," he assured her. "Now get to work on that lunch!"

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