Dunstan attends an awkward meeting

Dunstan already wished he were anywhere else.

The man kept sending awkward glances his way as if he too wished Dunstan would be sent out, and the young woman didn’t look at him at all. She didn’t even look at his father, but only stared at the floor, with her hands spread over her belly as if she hoped to hide the great bulge of it.

After the steward had gone out, the man coughed and said, “I don’t know that Your Grace remembers us – ”

“Certainly I remember you,” his father said. He had been staring at the two of them with narrowed eyes at first, but now his voice was soft. “Dunstan, you might help this young lady to be seated rather than standing there like a pillar of salt.” His voice was hard again.

Dunstan scrambled to the girl’s assistance, but she was not accustomed to gallantry, and the affair was quite awkward for the both of them.

“Father, perhaps I should – ” he began pleadingly.

“Sit down over there,” his father finished for him, waving his hand at the bench that stood against the wall. “And you may take a seat next to – your niece, isn’t it?”

“That’s right,” the man said as he sat. “My brother’s daughter, what died.”

“I see there has been some trouble,” his father said gently, and he leaned towards the girl, although the girl still did not look up at him.

Dunstan supposed he meant the girl’s head, for her hair had been brutally shorn. In places the hair had been sliced away close to the skin, and in others it hung in tufts that were each just the size of a handful.

“Well, there’s always been trouble, but today I guess it just went too far.”

“Who did this?”

“The women. A great lot of them, after the men went out to work. They came to the house and took her from her aunt and beat her down and cut her hair, they did.”

The man’s voice was trembling with something that was not anger, and the sound of it made Dunstan feel sick.

“Does she live with you?” his father asked with apparent surprise.

“She does.”

“Didn’t we find a husband for her? I mean…”

“Well, the people still believe it’s from the elves, as big as she is already…”

“I supposed they would. What I meant was that he was supposed to take care of her and prevent this sort of thing.”

“Well…” the man said uneasily.

“Forgive me for mentioning it, my dear,” his father said to the girl, “but he had made a bargain. It would seem he is not keeping his end of it. Is he?”

The girl twisted her skinny shoulders in a shrug, but her head still hung.

“I suppose a man must get outside to work and can’t be at the house all day, but I see no reason why he should send you to live with your aunt and uncle. Unless there is something I don’t know?”

“Well…” the old man drawled.

“Is he still living on the farm?”

“He is.”

“Did he send his wife away?”

“Well, no…” The man glanced at Dunstan again.

“Did she run away from him?”

“Well…”

“Did he oblige her to flee?”

“Well, I guess you could say he did,” the man said firmly. “I wouldn’t leave a dog with that man, knowing him as I do now.”

“I see. I suppose he doesn’t think the child is his either? Nevertheless they were married before the month was out.”

Dunstan squirmed.

“I guess he wants to wait to see it when it’s born. And see what kind of ears it has.”

“It would appear that baby elves have ears like men’s,” his father said.

The girl took a shuddering breath.

“Have you seen one?” the old man asked.

“I have seen Sir Egelric’s child, yes. At six months his ears are only just beginning to grow pointed.”

“Oh.” The man sighed.

“In any event, part of the bargain was that he understood that a child, if child there was, might not be his. And another part of the bargain was that he would treat his wife well. It would appear that he has failed on both counts. I suppose that you are here today because you would like me to intervene?”

“Well, I – I – ” The old man stuttered.

“You have done right. The bargain was between him and myself. I can take the farm back if he acts in bad faith, and I shall remind him of that fact. My dear,” he said gently to the girl. “Is there anything I can do for you? Perhaps you would like to rest a while until the baby comes. Can you sew?”

She nodded. Her uncle nudged her, and she jerked to attention. “Yes!”

“Excellent. We are furnishing the castle at the lake, but it is astounding – to us men at least – how much linen is required for one small castle. Perhaps you would like to await your baby out there, where it is quiet? Only Aylmer Odda and his family are there now, and his many daughters-​​in-​​law. Charming ladies. Hmm? They would be happy to have an extra needle.”

After the two had thanked him and gone out and his father had settled behind his table again, he asked Dunstan, “What do you think?”

Dunstan had not realized he was supposed to form an opinion. All he knew was that the meeting had been painfully awkward for him. The girl – and her belly – and what the elves had done to her – and her husband…

“I don’t know,” he said without thinking.

“That’s all?”

Dunstan flushed.

“What would you have done?” his father asked.

“If I were who?”

“Ah! An excellent question. I’m pleased you asked it. If you were the young lady?”

“I don’t know,” he said immediately.

“Think about it,” his father sighed.

Dunstan thought.

“What can a girl do in her situation?” his father prompted.

“I – ” What was the correct answer? “I – I don’t suppose she can do anything but what she is told.”

“Too true, too true.” His father shook his head sadly. “It almost seems a shame, doesn’t it? But if a girl does wrong…”

“What do you mean?” Dunstan cried. “What did she do? It wasn’t her fault that the elves – the elves…”

“No? Why do you suppose the women cut her hair, then, and treat her poorly?”

“I don’t know. It isn’t right! It isn’t her fault! Is it?”

“No, I don’t suppose it is. And yet she is treated as if it were.”

“It’s not right.”

“Hmm! No, I suppose not. And yet some girls will get themselves in such a situation almost willingly – by their own fault, as it were. With only a little encouragement from a young man.”

“I don’t see why,” Dunstan mumbled. His cheeks felt almost painfully hot.

“Perhaps the young men make promises they don’t intend to keep. Or intend to keep, but can’t, because their families prevent it.”

Dunstan was silent.

“That seems a little unfair too, doesn’t it?” his father asked after a while.

He nodded.

“You see, husbands can always be found for such girls, for silver or for land, but such bargains often turn out to be terribly unfair to the girls.”

His father paused again, and Dunstan squirmed on his chair. What was he supposed to say?

“I suppose it’s particularly difficult for her,” his father continued, “because the father is an elf. But you mustn’t believe that it would be much easier for her if the father had been, say, a young lord.”

Dunstan gasped. “I would never!”

“You will at least want to, at least once in your life, or you are no son of mine.”

Dunstan looked up at him miserably. What was he supposed to say? What was he supposed to do? It was wrong, and yet if he didn’t want to do it, his father would be ashamed of him. No matter what he did, his father would be disappointed in him. It was always so.

“I shan’t do it, anyway,” he mumbled.

His father only laid his forehand in his hand and sighed.