Scalebane: Willem's Tail
an excerpt

As with most stories, this one starts with a beginning.

This particular beginning starts with a man. Edwin by name and a farmer by trade. By all accounts an ordinary among the ordinary. To some it might even seem that he reveled in his normalcy but such ideas were far from his head, even if he did care to spare them a moment's consideration. Today, however, far more dire omens were on the horizon. Omens of the most foreboding sort. Dreaded months had become weeks and weeks had changed to days. His hands wrung as they hadn't since the drought of five years, or that time when the crops had begun to spoil, or that time the land nearly went fallow, or that time ... He stopped in mid thought as he squeezed both palms together. Perhaps he did tend to fret a little too often but this time it was worth the strain. This time he was staring into the face of the worst horror that could befall a man in this year of our lord fourteen hundred and sixty three.

His eldest son had spoken of the city.

The city, that drew away all of the eldest of the town with promises of streets paved with gold and bright futures far from their family's home. Where fifteen hours of hard work in the sun were unheard of and where young ladies cavorted with bodices full to bursting. It didn't matter that the city itself was little more than a courtyard for the baron. Nor did it ever occur to the younglings that gold would make for poor cobblestones. However, Edwin had long ago found that reason had little effect on the nature of childish dreams. Dreams that left his staring down the rows of his field for what may have been the last time.

Soon, he knew the signs well, soon his eldest would speak of a job where gold would line his pockets. Sweet words of service to the baron or an apprenticeship to the merchants would provide enough to hire hands for the farm. The sweet, honey-like words would fill the room until both Edwin and his wife were swimming in them as their eldest slipped out the door to wind up plague-ridden and a pick pocket in the backstreets.

“And then where would we be? Where, I ask you?!?” He huffed and fumed at the unseen form of his son, not even offering the air the time to respond. “Ankles deep in mud and not a crumb to feed us! That's where!”

For a fortnight he had wracked his brain for the answer. Some scheme or obligation he could use to keep his eldest here to till the fields until he knew no other life. Sadly, Edwin remained less than swift when it came to machinations and so remained, wringing his hands futilely, staring up into the sky.

It wouldn't be so bad if there were someone to replace his son. A strong back and a hard worker who would step into the vacancy. His daughter, while able, would likely soon wed the farmer's hand from two field's over. The two had become quickly inseparable and often times spent in night in the barn doing whatever young ones did. His wife, while still strong in the back and shoulders, could hardly be expected to plow the fields and still have dinner warm and ready when the sun set. With no money to hire a hand nor any other villager free to help he could only bemoan his lack of another son.

“Another son...” Edwin's eyes lit with the wavering spark of realization. “That's it!”

It was well known, often practiced and still quite legal to simply produce more offspring for the purposes of a cheap labor force. They owed their existence to you and could hardly argue if you set them about to do chores. The idea seemed perfect as Edwin rushed in the door to speak to his wife about it. After all, she would be playing a part in this plan and it seemed rude to simply proceed without her.

The plan was an easy sell. Edwin's wife was more than willing to raise another in her rapidly emptying house. Long had she yearned for the pitter-patter of feet across the floor and the gentle cooing of a babe in her arms. For years before, the family dog had been a surrogate to these feelings when Edwin was less inclined to bare another child after the twin daughter and son he had been blessed with. Those blissful days came to a tragic end, however, when the dog was cruelly taken from them by fate and a poorly constructed churn. It was weeks before Edwin's wife could leave her room or even look at a cow again. The loss in her heart had yearned for something to fill it and the warm laughter of another son would do much to wipe the buttery horror from her past. So it was settled, the two of then would see about bringing another life into the world and do so with the utmost speed ...

... before their eldest could utter those dreaded words of, “There is so much more opportunity for me there!”

The first days were awkward and difficult for the two of them. For as much as they loved and cared for each other, neither had been completely sure how they had managed to produce the children they had. The act on their wedding night had been romantic but left little inclination to try again as the twins had incapacitated Edwin's poor wife for months before they were born. The care and feeding of them and tending to the farm had left little time for them to do more than simply fall into bed together and glance at each other's eyes before fatigue overtook them. They had made a commitment, however, and would see it through to the end. The two of them were nothing if not single-minded. Through all the awkward nights and some equally bawdy afternoons behind the woodshed, the two of them hoped against hope.

It was not until the midwife beamed as she touched Edwin's wife's belly that the two of them felt a measure of accomplishment. They had done it again and soon their problems would be over.

“How long?” Edwin's voice wavered. Their son had already talked about the bags of gold he could bring back to them. There wouldn't be much time.

“Perhaps three to four months. She has already begun to glow with new life. You should be proud!” The midwife nodded eagerly as she spoke, rubbing the wife's belly as if for luck. This was what she lived for and much of her joy came from it as he was unable to bare a child herself.

Edwin smiled. Certainly it would take time before the young man would be able to help him on the fields but the certainty of the moment was enough to keep his hands at his sides. That is, until he had considered the possibility of a daughter. A daughter who might simply find another farmboy to run off with leaving him with a dowry of two emaciated cows and a handful of dirty copper coins fished from the baron's moat.

Even as the wife and midwife chatted amongst themselves, his hands returned to wringing and doing so with vigor.

However, time remains a balm for all worries or washes them away in new ones. Soon Edwin's wife was so ripe with child she looked as if she would burst. The midwife had first thought it would be twins, which if it were twin sons would be a blessing indeed. Soon though, it became triplets. Three children who could tend to any number of tasks, even if one was a daughter. At the end though, as the wife was barely able to move from her bed, the midwife could make no sense of it. Never before had she seen a mother so swollen and the idea of four children at once was all but unheard of. It was all she could do to keep the wife comfortable and well-rested. For surely if more than three children were to pass, the woman would need all the strength she could muster.

Word of this possibility had long since spread to the rest of the villagers. They chattered amongst themselves and discussed all sorts of reasons. Some said it was a blessing for the poor farmer. Edwin had long suffered with the fields he had been given by his father and so this was repayment for hard work. Others muttered under their breaths about a curse. Something foul would befall them when the child was born. So to set the doubters at ease and the hopeful joyous, the news was passed on until it reached the ears of the bishop.

Bishop Bradaigh was a man who enjoyed his calling. Followed everywhere by a gaggle of pages, priests and presiders, he made a habit of walking amongst the people dispensing goodwill and seeing to the well-being of his often sparse flock. When news of the birth reached his ears, he could think of no better idea than to see to this blessing from the Lord himself. The chatter amongst him from his attendants over his decision reached a fevered pitch as the Bishop himself set about a horse and carriage for the trip.

“It is a tiny village, your Grace. There is no reason to muddy your robes by visiting!”

“But your Grace, is it not the calling of our Lord to walk amongst those we would help guide to his light?”

“Be that as it may, his Grace has far more important things to do than preside over the birth of a child, no matter the size! I ask, any beg, your Grace to send another. There is work to be done here!”

All talk was silenced as the Bishop turned and leveled a look at the chattering mob. Long ago he had learned that speaking amongst those who used words as often as others would breathe would not listen to others but would obey a properly placed glare. To this end, he used them often and often to great effect.

“I am going.” The Bishop's voice boomed from his rather ample girth, “and damn the lot of you for trying to stop me.”

The chatter reduced in volume as whispered apologies and many more 'your Grace's were tossed around before the room could settle back into silence. The Bishop shook his head and wondered why so many people were required to do so little for so few.

Edwin, upon hearing of the Bishop's imminent and eminent arrival was wringing his hands faster than he ever had before. To have what could be four children at once, swarms of happy neighbors pressing gifts into his hands AND the Bishop himself arriving to bless the birth was more than a single man could worry about and not drive himself to drink.