[littlemanpoet]

At long last, the sun was setting. Much had been accomplished. The "baker" was set up and Frodides and her helpers had started preparing a big repast to make up for a cold and sparse luncheon. Eodwine had ordered that two kegs be readied and that folk be encouraged to consider this supper their celebration, for after the baker had been completed and the animals situated to Léofric's satisfaction, two big tents had been erected, one for the women and one for the men with a promise from Eodwine to Stigend and Modtryth that families would be set up with their own tents on the morrow. The only other project Eodwine could think of that could not be delayed past the morrow was to set up Harreld with a temporary smithy. He talked with Harreld about what would be satisfactory for the next couple of days while they worked on a real smithy, and having gotten a good idea from him and an idea how to accomplish it, Eodwine felt that all was about as good as he could hope before sundown. But one thing remained to be done: Javan.

He walked slowly over to where the boy sat, looking sulky and as if he was feeling very sorry for himself. The ropes had been left with enough slack in them so that Javan could pick up a jar of water and drink from it, so he was not thirsty. But he had watched all the others eat while he did not. Eodwine came to a stop and stood before him.

"Javan, can you tell me the wrong that you did?"

Javan looked at him. The angry fire had died hours ago, but hot coals still remained, smoldering. He shook his head. "Not until my lord tells me the wrong that you did."

The boy's response felt like a kick in the face. Eodwine was unable to control a momentary flinch and scowl, but quickly brought his face back to calmness. He crossed his arms in front of him involuntarily. The boy's insolence was astounding. This was going to be a hard battle of wills. Eodwine was tempted to answer him abruptly with a punishment of all night on the ropes to think on his foolishness, and call it done, but held himself from it. Then he thought of the best response he could make.

"You are not in a position to bargain, Javan. As your Eorl and lord of the house you are given to, I may do with you what I deem best. Take thought and answer again, only this time with care."

Javan looked back down away from Eodwine's face. He considered for a long pause, and then he shook his head again. "I don't understand why I should be treated so when the first fault lies with you. I do not mean to be rude, sir, and I am not bargaining, but I am being treated and punished unfairly."

The boy was being serious! Very well. "Tell me what you think would be appropriate punishment for a boy who has proven that he cannot be trusted when out of sight because he burned down my stables and owes me one hundred days of labor, and who knows he is to do as he is told and stay where he can be seen, yet runs away at his first chance?"

Javan felt a slow heat spread up his neck and into his face. He answered with clipped tones. "I would not have gone if you had not so humiliated me by saying before all the others that 'Rowenna, you can take Javan-'" his voice altered slightly, bordering very, very near mockery, to make the quotation "- after naming all the jobs that had to be done. Besides," he grumbled, "you wanted the place explored."

The boy was making poor excuses and needed to be caught out on his own thinking every bit as much as on his misdeeds. "Think less on how you look to others and more on how your misdeeds hurt or harm others." If his words did not sink in with the boy now, and Eodwine was not sure they did, then he would have to speak more plainly yet. "Your duty is to do no more and no less than you are told, to your face. Javan, will you do your duty?"

Another long pause followed. Javan's eyes and face drooped farther until he was looking at the ground just before the eorl's boots. He thought of Leof and how he had been hurt when the stables burned. Slowly, Javan nodded his head. "Yes, lord. I will do my duty. But..." he looked up slowly. Eodwine waited. "Will you be fair to me?"

Just a little while longer, Eodwine, he schooled himself. "You did not answer my earlier question, and I cannot answer your new question until you do. So, again, what would be fair punishment for a boy who has proven that he cannot be trusted when out of sight and who knows he is to do as he is told and stay where he can be seen, yet runs away at his first chance? Answer straightly now."

Javan squirmed slightly, uncomfortable with the question. He wanted to say 'I don't know', but he somehow knew Eodwine would not allow that. His mind cast about for different answers. Almost unwittingly, he thought back on home. He shot a swift glance towards Eodwine. Why must there be any punishment just now? What he wanted was to be let off, but that's not what the eorl had asked.

"At home," Javan began quietly, and then stopped. He shifted on the ground again. "At home, if I disobeyed or ran off instead of doing the chores, father would thrash me," he mumbled. "But you've already punished me!"

His father's punishment did not work, thought Eodwine, for punishment wrought in anger heaps a double revenge back on the punisher. Eodwine had thought the boy spoiled for lack of punishment, but here it turned out that it was for foolish punishment. "I will not and would not thrash you or anyone. I do not punish in anger but toward an end. In your case, one end has been to relieve my men and women from having to run after you again and again. Had I a room to lock you in, I would have done so. Another end has been to get you alone and still long enough in body to make you think. I have also seen fit to make you hungry, which is little pain though no joy, I know. I made you hungry to help you think carefully, for if you still answer poorly, hunger will stay with you.

"So now you know my ends in how I have punished you. Do you still think them unfair? And if so, I ask you yet again what punishment deserving of your misdeeds would suit it better? Or has your punishment been meet?"

Javan did think carefully, for he was very hungry and the thought of going without any supper at all worried him. Besides that, Eodwine's reasoning seemed perfectly solid, there were no holes or cracks to squeaze through and escape. He wanted to think of something, an excuse, a delay, something that proved him not quite so guilty as Eodwine thought. But he reconsidered everything that had just been said and came out with nothing.

Finally, feeling himself defeated and being half resentful therefore, he answered. "No, sir. The punishment was not unfair." Further words lingered on his tongue - 'But you should not have allowed Rowenna to treat me so' or 'But you might have not done it in front of everybody' - and only a twinge from his empty stomach stopped them.

The boy's words were the right ones, but said sullenly, which belied that he thought differently than he spoke, in some unknown way. Eodwine knew that his goal was to conquer the boy's insolence into submission, and the temptation was to allow him to save face; but there was a better goal, which was not only to get the boy to see what was right, but to convince him to want to do what was right.

"I will see that you have supper. You will stay here, though. We are not finished with this." Eodwine walked away toward the makeshift kitchen.