With steady progress in expanding my vocabulary, by the time I turned three, I had "learned" to speak in full sentences. Of course, I had been able to do this earlier, but I avoided drawing too much attention to myself. My goal was to maintain a balance: being clever enough that my mother might think it was time to teach me to read and write, but not so unusual as to raise suspicion. Assuming she even knew how to read...
One spring evening, as usual, I was playing with wooden animal figurines by the fireplace. They were the only toys I had access to. Mark had made them for his sons, but for me, there was nothing crafted especially. I got only what Ksawery and Antek discarded. Though I had to admit, the craftsmanship was impressive. Mark had a remarkable skill with a blade. He once told me he'd purchased his knife from an adventurer. Supposedly, it was crafted by a dwarf. The knife was beautiful, with a handle engraved with a deer.
The atmosphere was warm and cozy. I felt the glow of the fire and its enveloping heat, though over time, I learned how important it was not to draw too much attention to myself.
My task was simple—sit quietly in the corner. If I managed not to stand out, even Mark seemed less irritable. But, of course, not everything was within my control...
"Ball, what are you playing with?" asked Antek, sneaking up on me from behind, feigning innocence.
"I'm counting animals," I replied with a feigned smile. "Did you know that if there are three cows and a wolf eats one, only two are left? That's not too hard to understand, is it?" I added a subtle jab at Antek, hoping my mother or aunt would overhear how adept I was at subtraction.
"You little—!" Antek lunged at me.
I yelled, focusing all attention on him. Meanwhile, Ksawery grabbed three figurines and threw them into the fire.
The fire crackled, and I didn't even have time to react. It was all planned—their way of tormenting me.
"Ha-ha! How many animals do you have now?" Antek laughed triumphantly.
"Antoni! What are you doing?!" Aunt Aniela shouted, rising from her seat. "Go stand in the corner!"
"Stop," Mark interjected in a calm, firm voice that left no room for argument. "Sit back down."
Antek turned toward me, sticking out his tongue—a pure act of malice.
"Mark, the boys can't treat little Ball this way!" Aniela said, glaring at him angrily.
"Aniela, boys must compete to grow into strong men," Mark replied, his tone calm, as though stating an undeniable truth. "The war in the west ended twenty years ago, but travelers report the possibility of a new front opening in the east. If you raise them like girls, they won't survive long."
Mark's words were measured, but I detected a certain satisfaction in his tone. It was his opportunity to shift the focus from punishing his sons to validating their actions.
I couldn't help but wonder if his sons wouldn't grow into "girls" if their only skill was bullying the weaker ones. The thought crossed my mind, though fear of the consequences kept me from saying it aloud.
Three years had passed since I arrived here, yet I still hadn't gathered much information about the world around me. Peasants, it seemed, rarely discussed politics or geography in any meaningful way.
I knew that the village we lived in was called Mleczna. I wasn't sure if it was the official name or simply adopted by its residents, but I guessed it stemmed from the dense, milk-like mists that enveloped the forests to the east each morning. That forest, known as the Eastern Grove, likely inspired the name.
From the very beginning, though, one thing puzzled me: Mark's disdain for me was clear—another mouth to feed, another burden. But why wasn't he equally firm with my mother? This question would soon find its answer.
The next morning, as soon as I woke up, I heard Aniela's voice.
"Boys, eat your breakfast and don't cause trouble while I'm gone," she said, pulling on her boots. "Mark, I'm heading out."
"This time, watch what you buy. I'm paying for meat, not fat," his tone was gruff, merciless. "Old Jan's a good hunter, but a swindler through and through."
"I'll try to be back by noon," she said, closing the door behind her.
Cooking, cleaning, keeping the house in order—all of it fell on the women's shoulders. That much I had understood, but now it seemed even shopping was their responsibility. The men spent their days in the fields or forest, chopping wood. Old Jan, who lived near the forest, was the village's only hunter. While they had livestock, their numbers were too small to rely on for food. We had five hens and a cow, but her value was far greater alive, providing milk, than slaughtered for meat.
Ksawery deliberately bumped into me as he walked by.
"Dad, we're going outside to play knights and thieves!" shouted Antek, dragging Ksawery along. Both boys ran out of the house.
"Take Ball with you. Let him do something other than count animals, haha!" Mark called out, shooing me outside.
Strange. Usually, they treated me like I was invisible, but now they wanted me to join them. Well, at least without my mother around, I could go outside. Maybe I'd overhear something interesting from passersby.
After a few minutes of playing, Ksawery hit me with a stick. He was the knight, and I was supposed to be the thief.
"I'm done with this game!" I shouted, irritated. "I'm going back inside!"
Being a punching bag for a 7- and 9-year-old while being only three myself was not my idea of fun.
Entering the house, I heard muffled grunts and moans. I had sensed something like this for a while but tried to push the thoughts aside. When I peeked around the corner, I saw Mark moving rhythmically over Izabela.
The world I lived in was truly brutal. It was the only way my mother could ensure we had a roof over our heads.
But there was something I couldn't understand. Why was it that, despite coming from a peasant family, Izabela lacked any skills needed for life on a farm? She didn't behave like a farmer, either. It was a mystery I was determined to unravel. In this household, she served as a cleaner, cook, and apparently, Mark's mistress.
I couldn't tell Aunt Aniela. That would only lead to major problems.
"We thought you'd gone off crying," said Antek, noticing me return. "It didn't hurt that much."
"Fine, but now I'm the knight!" I replied, trying to change the subject.
"Ha! A knight needs to be strong, like me!" Antek said, towering over me.
"Instead of a thief, you can be a goblin," Ksawery added mockingly.
Better that than discovering Izabela with Mark, I thought, though I knew it was best to focus on growing up quickly under their roof. If they had seen me, serious trouble could have followed.