Before Captain Vane

“RUAIRI?” She had been calling the young boy for the past five minutes, “RUAIRI! YOU COME IN RIGHT NOW! YOU HEAR ME?”

A little boy with dark hair scampered into the hovel that they called their home. He was covered from head to toe in mud. His bright blue eyes peaked out under dark lashes. He bit his lip while looking up at his mother. With a deep sigh she knelt down in front of him with a dirty cloth in her hand.

“My dear boy,” His mother scowled, “how on this good earth did you become such a mess? I swear that if I did not know any better I would say you were one of Mister Bugnot’s pigs and not my own little boy.”

The five year old giggled at his mother’s words and covered his mouth with his hand. She gently removed his hand from his face and started to scrub the dirt off it. When she had cleaned the little face as best she could she stood.

“Go change into something decent,” She gave him a little push to the door on the opposite side of the room, “your father will be home soon and you know how he feels about keeping a clean and tidy house, which includes you.”

Ruairi ran into his room, no larger than a closet. He quickly removed clothes that were covered in dry mud and pushed them under his small bed. He opened the trunk, it was the only other object in the room besides the bed, and pulled out a clean tunic and trousers. He quickly put them on and hurried out into the main room. He peaked over the table to watch what his mother cooking their evening meal.

The young boy jumped as the front door burst open and in walked his father. The man stood staring around the room before closing the door shut behind him. He shut it a little harsher than was needed and his son felt a shiver run down his spine. His father walked over to the table, his boots thundering with each step. He looked at what his wife was cooking for dinner and scoffed but said nothing. He then turned to Ruairi, who shrunk under his gaze. He took in the mud caked into his son’s hair and the guilty look on his face.

“And what have you been up to today?” His whisper rumbled through the house. He reached out and touched the boy’s hair, “Boy, why is your hair filthy?”

Ruairi stared at his father, his lip quivered a little, “I was playing outside and fell.”

The man’s eyes narrowed, “what a clumsy son I have.”

His father’s hand came up, Ruairi flinched. WHACK! The slap across his face sent the boy sprawling to the floor. His mother came around the table and stood between the two.

“Mariam,” The man said angrily, “Get out of the way, the boy needs to learn.”

“Not like this,” She placed her hands on her hips, “he is just a child.”

WHACK! Mariam raised her hand to her face. It was already a violent red.

“You do not talk back to me, Woman!” His voice shook the entire house. Ruairi whimpered from the floor.