Here Be Dragons - 1 by Sharon Penman (best inspirational books txt) 📕

her knowledge; Clemence had neither the patience nor the aptitude to instruct, and her sporadic attempts to teachJoanna the alphabet had come to naught.A solitary child is more given to daydreaming, and Joanna was no exception.She lost track of time; the morning drifted away on an easterly breeze.Yawning, she sat up in the grass, and then saw how high the sun was in the sky. It was nigh on ten o'clock; she was perilously close to being late for dinner. Joanna scrambled to her feet, began to run.Sprinting through the village, with several barking dogs at her heels, she raced for home. Maud kept a water bucket outside the door and, proud that she'd remembered, she conscientiously washed the dirt from her face and hands.But she'd splashed water about too freely, and looked with dismay now at the splotches darkening the skirt of her gown. She was always displeasing her mother and Maud, and yet she tried so hard to be good, she truly did.She hoped the mud stains would pass unnoticed, but at sight of her, Maud set down her bowl with a thud. "And where have you been, rooting about in the pigsty? For the love of the Lord, look at the child!"Clemence, thus appealed to, turned from the hearth. "Oh, Joanna!" Ruefully."What a slovenly little beggar you are."There was no anger in her voice, though, and Joanna's tension dissipated in a rush of relief. But the bewilderment remained. The same misdeed that would, on one day, earn her a slap in the face might, at another time, be shrugged off with indulgent laughter. Her mother's erratic tempers were baffling to the little girl, but they were disquieting/

77tooThere was a perverse security in the constancy of Maud's dour dis-roval, none whatsoever in her mother's quicksilver moods a" ^ special birthday dinner had been cooked for Joanna a rabbit w flavored with onions, saffron, and wine, a thick bean pottage, wed apples There was cider forJoanna, red wine for Clemence, ale for Maud, and plum tarts for the final course Sitting m the place of "honor," Joanna was flushed with happinessTheir dinner usually conisted of soup or fish, bread and cheese, and she took this rich fare as proof that she was loved, in favor She even dared to hope that her mother might have heeded her pleading, have gotten her the dog she so wanted She held her breath in excitement now as Maud cleared away the stale bread trenchers that served as plates, as her mother rose, moved toward the bedchamber"Joanna, these are for you " Her mother was smiling, holding out her presents several scarlet hair ribbons and a wooden topJoanna bit her lip, blinked back tears "Thank you, Mama," she mumbled, andClemence frowned"I told you we'd be having no dogs in this house I thought you understood that "Joanna swallowed If only Mama knew how much she wanted a puppy1 She'd tried so hard to make Mama understand"Joanna1 Joanna, I like it not when you sulk, you know that ""I'm not sulking, Mama, I'm not," Joanna said hastily, and after a long moment, Clemence nodded"See that you do not Now come here and get your birthday kiss "Joanna didJOANNA sat on a stool, watching in awe as her mother loosened her thick blonde braids, shook her head m a swirl of brightness Joanna was fascinated, when unbound, her mother's hair cascaded down her back in a silky tumble of light, reaching well below her hips She smiled over her shoulder at Joanna, held out the brush, and Joanna reached eagerly for >t/ she loved brushing her mother's hair, took pride in making it gleam like gold"Mama when is your birthday7""In less than a fortnight " Clemence seemed to sigh "My twentyfirst I expect that sounds very old to you7""Yes," Joanna admitted, and they both laughed"Then I was almost born on your birthday, was I not, Mama7 Mama was I not7"She felt her mother stiffen "Yes," Clemence said at last, a grudging one-word answer that thudded between them like a stone, and Joanna

78suddenly wanted to cry. Once again she'd managed to say the wrong thing."You have pretty hair, Mama," she said imploringly. "So pretty, ^ is like looking at the sun.""That's sweet, Joanna." Clemence reached over, patted Joanna's hand, and then picked up the mirror. As she shifted, Joanna saw her own eyes staring back at her. Not blue like her mother's, but a strange color neither brown nor green, what her mother called hazel, slanting queerly at the corners. Joanna hated her eyes, just as she hated the straight, coarse hair that even now was defying her birthday ribbons."Mama . . . why do I not look like you? Why do I have hair black like a crow?""Because you take after him." Clemence turned on the stool, gazing upon her daughter, the blind inward look that Joanna most feared, for she knew it meant her mother was remembering, not seeing her at all."That was all I asked of God, that I need not see him each time I looked into your face. Little enough to ask, I should think." She laughed suddenly, unsteadily. "But we do pay and pay for our sins, it seems, and you grow more like him with each day that passes."Joanna shrank back. She knew who "he" was, the father who had not wanted her, who had made Mama so unhappy. "Mama . . .""Oh, God, how like him you are!"Clemence's eyes were not blind now; they were riveted on Joanna's face with an emotional intensity that terrified the child; she thought she could read revulsion in them, and she sobbed, "No, Mama, I'm not1 Please, Mama, I'm not!"This was not the first time her mother had accused her of this bloodsin, but for once her tearful denial proved stronger than the pull of the past.Clemence blinked, sagged back on the stool. "Do not weep, Joanna," she said, with