The Beaver King, Cautionary Tales of Medieval Dysfunction

A Classic BillDong Story

Baylor the Bound does not remember this.

He was scarcely a year old when he was left in the care of Vast Sister Grier and her husband, BillDong the Bone-Clad, while the Beaver King and Queen Brystal attended to matters elsewhere. Such arrangements were not uncommon in Beaverton, where children were passed among kin as necessity demanded and explanation was rarely offered.

The Griers received the charge with enthusiasm.

Baylor was the firstborn nephew, and this fact mattered to them greatly. He was a notably agreeable , round cheeked, with thick brown hair and wide brown eyes that followed movement attentively. He laughed easily, slept often, and possessed the kind of quiet disposition that invited admiration without effort.

Vast Sister Grier spoke of him as a blessing.

BillDong spoke of him as “a fine, solid little fellow.”

They were, by all accounts, pleased.

In preparation for the visit, BillDong obtained an illustrated book on the care and keeping of infants. He studied it closely for a full week, returning again and again to the images with evident fascination. The written portions were consulted less frequently, though he remained confident in his understanding of them.

It soon became apparent to BillDong that he and the child had much in common. Both were easily amused by simple motions. Both favored repetition. Both displayed prolonged interest in objects others might set aside without remark. BillDong remarked more than once that Baylor “seemed to get it,” though what “it” was, precisely, was being gotten was never clarified.

Vast Sister Grier observed these interactions with measured approval. BillDong, after all, was engaged. He was attentive. He was trying.

At last, the day arrived. The morning passed smoothly. Baylor obligingly completed two of Vast Sister’s preferred activities: lunch, followed by a nap. This pleased her, as it suggested order and reinforced her belief that the visit would prove uneventful.

BillDong, however, remained vigilant. He regarded sleep as a risky interval, having himself once become trapped beneath Vast Sister during a nap—a story he retold frequently and never briefly. Waking, he believed, was where opportunity lived.

When Baylor awoke, BillDong straightened. At last, he thought. The babe was ready. It was his time to shine…A teachable moment that he could share with his tiny nephew.

He selected his favored hen, known to him simply as Chicken, and proceeded with confidence. Holding Baylor securely, BillDong demonstrated how retrieves the prize deep inside the hens egg cavity without startling the bird. He spoke gently, crept his fingers deep inside Chicken, nodding with satisfaction when the effort succeeded.

BillDong produced the egg and displayed it proudly.

He smiled at Baylor. He nodded.

It was the child’s turn.

Baylor reached for the nearest bird. It was not the hen. It was the rooster!

What followed was chaos.

The bird reacted. Baylor reacted. Noise filled the space in an instant, sharp, frantic, uncontained. The rooster struck, and Baylor recoiled, his thumb injured and bleeding freely.

BillDong shouted.

Baylor screamed.

The rooster contributed enthusiastically.

Vast Sister Grier arrived to a scene she would later describe as “impossible to assess in the moment.” Eggs lay smashed across the floor. Feathers clung to clothing. Blood marked Baylor’s hand and several nearby surfaces. It was not immediately clear who was screaming louder, the child or the adults attempting to respond.

Vast Sister gathered Baylor at once and tended to the wound with shaking hands. BillDong hovered, explaining himself at length and without pause, though no one was listening.

By the time Baylor’s parents returned, the house had been scrubbed but not redeemed. The Beaver King was livid. Queen Brystal was silent in the way that signaled permanence. The matter was brief. No debate followed. The Griers’ babysitting career ended that day and did not resume.

Baylor the Bound healed. He was left with a small, curved scar on his thumb, visible still in adulthood. It resembles the letter C.

C for Chicken.

In the days that followed, a rule appeared. Baylor the Bound was not to be left alone with Vast Sister Grier and BillDong the Bone-Clad.

No further explanation was recorded.