The Yeoman's sidekick

Chapter 3: Breakfast

"Bring that basket over, would you dear?" The somewhat corpulent woman hefted a copper pot to her bosom while her husband clattered about with the dishes at the table and me turning a bit awkwardly to where she indicated picked up the dark streaming basket and followed her to the small wood table. The table shook a little as she placed the pot of steaming strange smelling foodstuff on the table and I placed the basket which I now knew contained some hot buns beside the pot.

The woman, Isolda lit some funny looking incense that smoked and flickered on a silver dish she somehow had suspended by a window near the kitchen and fussed around with the table arrangements for a bit until she gave a satisfied humph. I looked at the table with an earthenware jug of some liquid, maybe water; four sets of cups, plates and bowls and a coarse napkin folded neatly in each place. The rough man who I heard called Ollie scooted his chair back and stood expectantly looking at me. I didn't know what he meant until he indicated with his eyes that the place was meant for me.

"Oh um. Thank you." I didn't know if it was just me but my awkwardness made everything else seem awkward, or maybe we were just all nervous.

I sat down and was a little surprised when he scooted me in politely and took his place across from me. Isolda gave me a quick smile that made me feel a bit warm inside to my surprise as she reached over and filled my bowl with the steaming foodstuff that looked like oatmeal but I knew, definitely wasn't. That smile seemed so genuine.

I waited until Isolda filled hers and her husbands bowl and I now noticed the place beside me set for another was also served. Who else? I wondered.

With everything set I was about to pick up my spoon when Isolda and Ollie raised their hands and began giving thanks. "We thank you O' Great Lord of Love for this food we have and all blessings you have bestowed on us. Amen" I stumbled over the prayer and muttered my thanks before picking up my spoon again. I was starving. I didn't even stop and consider what this not oatmeal might be and before I knew it my bowl was empty.

"Whoa there lassie dear, ya might want to slow down." I looked up to meet the kind eyes of Ollie and he gave me a half smile before filling my cup with the liquid in the earthenware jug. I tentatively reached for the cup and sipped carefully making sure my face didn't scrunch up at the murky taste. Is this water?

I set my cup down and listened to the homey clink of cutlery and cups. In this small moment of peace the old crone and the bookstore came to mind. I fidgeted in my seat.

Questions swirled about in my head and panic once again squeezed my heart, the buildup tightening my throat. "Lass?" I looked up to see Isolda and Ollie looking at me. I sat straighter as they addressed me.

"We can't very well keep calling her lass, you old coot!" scolded Isolda "and heck she don't even know us." Ollie seemed squeamish all of a sudden like he'd swallowed something slimy and he stared at his wife. Isolda continued, this time addressing me directly.

"I'm Mrs. Woodford but you may call me Isolda and this here old windbag is my husband, Oliver." Oliver glanced sidelong at his wife but said nothing. He picked up his mug and took a long draught before setting it down and finally speaking.

"I found ya quite battered girl. Do you suppose you might know how? And what be your name?" He looked at me expectantly but kindly.

I had to swallow the lump in my throat before speaking, "I-I-I'm uh," I paused, remembering the girls who tried to beat me in the alley and cleared my throat, "My name is Myra and um," I looked down at my bowl and muttered, "Some self absorbed idiots beat me." The large bowman leaned forward, "Speak up Myra, can't 'er ya." he whispered. At the sound of my name something inside me squeezed and tears welled up in my eyes unbidden and blurred my vision. I tried to even my breaths but instead hiccuped. In embarrassment and anger I shrunk in my chair. I heard a meaty whap of wood on skin and a sharp angry whisper from Isolda, "now look what you done Ollie!"

"Look here Myra," I blinked furiously before looking up at Isolda, "I don' know how hard you had it but I always wanted a helper 'round here and I don't mind ya staying. But," The homey woman sighed and looked at me matter of factly, "If ya stay, work will be no stranger to you. Me and Oliver will take care of ye and-"

"Hullo Ma! Hullo Pa!" 

All heads turned to the direction of the voice. Mrs. Woodford pursed her lips at the interruption. "Good morning son!" Oliver said cheerfully. I gaped at the young man as he entered and clapped his father on the back. He was just as tall if not taller than his father, stocky in build; massive rippling shoulders barely kept covered by a brown leathery jerkin and white tunic. His hair was long and wavy, gold and dirty brown in color, tied back in a high bun like the nerdy girls at school did. The two grasped each other as Oliver got up to embrace his son. The young man then went and embraced his mother, tickling her ear and making her laugh as he kissed her on the cheek.

It was all smiles until he laid eyes on me. He gave me a quizitive look and I waved a bit feebly in greeting. I shifted in my seat as the fun-loving atmosphere died down.

Oliver rubbed his hands together, still standing, "It's good now tha' you're here son. Some things have happened while ye were away on your apprenticeship."

The young man was still looking at me and raised his brows in response, "Some things have happened indeed." I tried an attempt at a smile and he gave me an encouraging grin not at all unkindly. I was relieved, I expected this interaction to turn out badly.

"The name's Baltor." The young man sat at his place at table and extended his hand. I shook it and noticed his careful grip, and his rough calloused palms against my own. 

As Baltor ate he made small talk about things that confused me and general statements about the weather and whether it would be a good hunting season this year. Isolda got up and beckoned me to help her tidy up the kitchen as the men caught up and chatted. I had to oblige and did so without complaint though I wanted nothing more than to overhear the seeming nonsense they babbled. 

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OHOHO