Ch 3: Unnatural Life
Harken dear reader as I continue this tale that will take us along the darkened paths to the outskirts of town where a family dwells. It is not a happy family by any means but then again, life is never fair. Listen well to the story of a young maid who wishes for little and never receives much except misery.
***************************
Lilandra stood at the edge of the forest and stared at the place she called home. Not that it was much of a home. Not since her mother had died at any rate. She had just turned eighteen five days ago and now she worried more. Her father's behavior was becoming more and more disturbing. She longed to be free but that would never be because he watched her like a hawk. She knew he was hoping to pawn her off on some guy that had money and if it were any of those in the village she knew she'd rather die than be married to such boors. Her mother had taught her to dream of better things and such things were not to be found in her home or in the village.
The harsh roar of her father's irate voice emanating from the house however interrupted her thoughts. "Lilandra! I thought I told you to have dinner ready by the time I got back from the north side! And why the hell is the fire not stoked up yet! You've had a whole three hours to get it done! Get in here right now!"
His roar startled her. She flinched before dropping her head and hurrying to the house. She had not been paying attention to the time when she'd ventured into the forest to pick blackberries for the jam she was hoping to make. And now she was in trouble. Again. She ran the last few feet and skidded to a halt before her father. She clutched her nearly overflowing basket to her chest. Her eyes only briefly strayed to his face before dropping back down to the ground.
Her father's pitch black eyes bored into her face. He looked down at the basket before snatching it from her hands. Angrily he threw it on to the huge kitchen table, berries spilling over its surface. "I tell you to have dinner ready and this is what you do! Go and pick BERRIES instead of cooking the freshly slaughtered pig? What do you think I am, a rabbit?" His anger was pure and seething, his face red from both his rage and a hard day in the sun. "When I tell you to have dinner ready I expect it to be done! I work all day to keep a roof over our heads and appease our Lord and this is how you repay me! Perhaps I should send you to him to learn some respect?"
She flinched again, her eyes still on the ground as she swallowed hard. She wasn't sure what to say to appease him. "Father, please, no," she whispered. Her heart was racing and she prayed that his anger would cool quickly.
This seemed only to anger her father more so, his hand rising into a position to strike her down with a hard blow from the back of his hand. "You think to tell me what I can and cannot do? How dare you disrespect your father in such a way! Do you wish to be sent out on the next wagon?"
She saw his hand rise and she hastily took a step back, her head snapping up in her fear. "No, father! I'm sorry I meant no disrespect!" she pleaded. She had said the wrong thing again!
Reluctantly he lowered his hand, his eyes burning with pent up fury now. "You have one hour to clean up this mess and have my dinner ready or you will feel the taste of the birch!" He moved away from her and stomped through the house, slamming the kitchen door.
She let out a shaky breath. She cautiously entered the house, her eyes furtively looked about to make sure he had truly gone through the kitchen and into another part of the house. She didn't shed the tears that stung at her eyes. Instead she hurriedly scooped up the spilled berries and moved the offending basket over to the side out of the way and out of her father's sight. Hastily she searched the cupboards for things to cook. She found several potatoes that she peeled and tossed into the giant black pot of water. She quickly stoked the fire and began cutting up the carrots and greens that she also found.
Once they were added to the water and boiling, she went outside to finish skinning and cleaning the pig her father had killed. She cut it into the appropriate sections, three big ones for her father and brothers, two medium sized ones for her sisters-in-law and then finally a modest sized one for herself. She put them on the large platter and headed inside to the oven. She stoked the fire in it and placed the slabs inside. She leaned against the wall for a second and closed her eyes. She was now hot, sweaty, and stank of pig's blood but at least dinner was cooking. She still had four loaves left from yesterday's baking that she could serve. She hoped it would be enough.
From upstairs came a squeal of delight that Lilandra recognized as her sister-in-law Trina. Her father held the timely tradition that while living under his roof his sons were to share their wives with him. The ceiling creaked as the sounds of Trina landing on the bed and the almost clockwork sounds of her father, Victor moving atop her. He was loud and animalistic; his grunts of effort were punctuated by the erotic moans of the young wife. The deep grunting laughter of Victor as he had his wicked way with his daughter-in-law accompanied each surprised squeal.
Lilandra squeezed her eyes shut and covered her ears but it couldn't keep the sounds out. With a disgusted snort she ran from the house and outside to the garden. At least out here she wouldn't have to hear them. She grabbed a basket and began pulling up turnips and some lettuce. She could add them to the soup as well.
She finished, stood and dusted herself off. She went back inside, heard the noises still coming from upstairs and promptly put the turnips and lettuce into the water and hurried back outdoors. She looked at the barn. She'd better make sure they had milk on the table. Her father didn't care much for water. Only his alcohol and his milk. Snatching up a pail she went to milk one of their three cows. Her brothers should be coming in from the field soon.
As if on cue the sounds of horses could be heard coming down the dirt road, accompanied by out of tune singing. Obviously Jacob and Josiah had been at the still before heading home. The wagon behind them bounced and jostled, spilling a bit of hay on the particularly deep ruts in the road.
Lilandra was almost in the barn when she heard the wagon and grimaced at their bad singing. She ducked inside the barn and sat down to milk Ginger, one of the younger cows they owned. She always produced a lot of milk.
The wagon rattled to a halt outside and the barn door was pulled open by Josiah. Jacob who had heard his father from outside snorted and muttered. "That old fart gets her more than I do these days." He turned and his eyes fell upon his sister. "Well if I can't have MY wife, I guess I'll just have to take some home grown pussy won't I?" He moved towards Lilandra, staggering slightly and chauvinistically pawed at her firm buttocks. "Come on Lilly, put out for your big brother eh?"
Lilandra leaped back away from him. "Stay away from me, Jacob!"
Josiah conveniently blocked the door, a lurid grin across his face. Jacob advanced upon her, hands still groping, now trying to undo her dress. "Aww don't be like that sis, I only want a bit of love. You can't be THAT cold hearted can you?"
"Get off me!" she screamed and tried to push him off. When that failed she did the only thing she could think to do. She kneed him hard in the crotch.
Jacob's face went still a moment, the next he was crumpling to the ground cradling his groin. Josiah took that moment to burst into a fit of giggles at the unfortunate events that happened to his brother and had to lean on the doorframe to keep upright.
Lilandra took advantage of the situation, grabbed the full pail, raced past her two brothers and out the barn. She didn't stop running until she was at the kitchen door. She was forced to try to catch her breath and then she bit back a curse when she saw that she had spilled about half of the milk. Father was not going to like this at all. She opened the door and went inside. She let out a yelp when she saw that the vegetable soup was boiling over. "Oh no!" she grabbed a towel and a ladle and pulled the cauldron away from the fire. She stirred the vegetables but some of them had begun to burn at the bottom of the pot. Nothing was going right for her this day!
The room upstairs had gone quiet, filled with the sounds of post mating. The bed creaked above Lilandra once more, dust falling from the ceiling as her father got out of bed. A few moments later came the clumping sounds of his heavy boots coming down the stairs, followed by the soft patter of Trina's petite form. The kitchen door burst open, her father seeming calmer than before, but not by much. "Time's up Lilandra so serve up the meal." He glanced at the clock and frowned in puzzlement, growling now, "And where the hell are those two slackers? It shouldn't take more than five minutes to load that wagon."
"Yes father," she muttered obediently as she went about setting the table with bowls, spoons, and knives.
Trina stood by and didn't offer to help. Another set of footsteps was heard as Samantha came downstairs, scratching at her armpit as she looked about the room. "What did I miss?" she demanded as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes.
"Nothing. It's dinner time," Trina pointed out just as muted cursing reached their ears. Samantha giggled and went to the table and sat down.
