Raven and Rue // Lindensea 1

Chapter 7: The Clerk of the Kitchen

"I wasn't aware you had any children, Mrs Bennett."

"Well ... she was sort of an adopted daughter, and she passed away last summer, you see, and I was the only one who could take the lad."

"Dear, dear," said Mr Smedley, thinking how messy Mrs Bennett's life was, and rather regretting not sending her away with a glass of sherry and a recommendation for a women's hostel. "Well, I'm very sorry for your loss and the situation you're in, but we can't be expected to feed and clothe children as well."

"You don't have to do that Mr Smedley, if I could only have him live in my room with me," said Mrs Bennett. "He's a good lad, and that clean and quiet. He'll be no trouble to you, I promise."

"Well, it's most irregular," said Mr Smedley. "But I suppose it could be arranged. He's old enough not to need looking after, and not old enough to be a trouble with the maids and wenches."

"Thank you, Mr Smedley. You've got the kind heart, so you do," said Mrs Bennett, greatly relieved by how things had gone.

"Can you give me a few minutes, Mrs Bennett, and then I'll show you to your room? Er, and your grandson too," said Mr Smedley, wondering if he'd really got the best of the bargain.

He'd got an experienced pastry cook relatively cheap, but she was a bit long in the tooth, and now there was a boy to consider. Why couldn't Mrs Bennett have had a granddaughter that they could train up in the kitchen, and eventually marry off to some pot-scrubbing scullion or other? A boy was going to be nothing but a nuisance.

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Pip had been nervously twisting his fingers in his hands and unconsciously kicking the legs of the bench with his feet. He looked up in alarm when he saw Mrs Bennett come out of the office, but relaxed when he saw she was smiling.

"It's alright, laddie. I got the job," she said as she came out.

"Oh, that's wonderful news, Granny Bennett," said Pip in relief.

"We just have to wait for Mr Smedley and he'll show us to our room," said Mrs Bennett. "Mind you be polite and grateful to him, because he's making a special arrangement to have you live with me."

"You mean, we're going to be living here? In the palace?" said Pip, open-mouthed.

"Yes, in the staff quarters," said Mrs Bennett. "You'll have to be good and quiet, because there'll be people all around us, and they get up early and work long hours. You can't ever bother anyone or cause a fuss, or we'll both be out on our ears, laddie. You understand?"

"Yes, Granny," said Pip. "I promise I'll be good."

They began walking up the hallway, looking at the deep green walls, which had paintings and tapestries on them, in glass frames. One painting showed a king and queen on their thrones. Standing on each side was a boy who looked around Pip's age, and a merry-looking chubby blonde girl who was perhaps about four.

"Who are these people?" asked Pip with interest. "Are they from a story?"

"Why, that's the royal family," said Granny Bennett in surprise. "That's the king on his throne, Peter Ironfoot. He lost his foot at the Battle of Everwick, but carried on through the pain until he had won the fight, and put more heart into his men with one foot than he did with two. After the battle, he had an iron foot made to replace the one he had lost."

Pip looked more closely. Sure enough, one of the king's legs ended in a metallic grey foot, poking beneath the hem of his robe. The artist had made him look every inch the perfect king - tall, strong, yet noble, with an intelligent, thoughtful expression.

"When the battle was won and the enemy defeated, King Peter showed great mercy, for instead of acting the tyrant, he offered to marry Princess Ellen of Everwick, who had taken his fancy, so that the two kingdoms might be forever joined. He made Ellen's father swear him fealty, gave him many gifts of gold and silver, and vowed that from that day forth, the kingdoms of Lindensea and Everwick would be not only friends and allies, but also kinsfolk. That's why the Lindensea coat of arms shows the linden tree and the yew standing together, and white and red roses intertwined, as the symbols of both kingdoms."

Queen Ellen had the same bright hair as her little daughter, and the artist had given her expression both wisdom and sweetness, although there was a tightly-drawn power to the way she held herself. She is like a golden falcon, Pip thought to himself. Held in check by the falconer's leathers, but made to fly free.

"Good Queen Ellen died two winters ago," went on Mrs Bennett, "and it is said that King Peter has never been the same since."

"Did he start drinking?" asked Pip in innocent concern.

"Bless you, laddie, no! Just that he rarely smiles, and the heart has gone out of him. But there, a king has enough things to be worrying after that it is no wonder he looks long-faced at times."

"And the boy and the girl?" asked Pip, thinking that, like him, the royal children had recently lost their mother. Did the little girl still look so happy?

"Oh, they were born after I left the palace," said Mrs Bennett, "and I was never good at keeping up with royal babies."

Just then Mr Smedley came out of his office, and said, "Mrs Bennett, if you're ready now? And this handsome young man must be your grandson."

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LINDENSEA LORE

My journey then brought me to Everwick, a kingdom of the bleak north which was seized by Rollo Longstrider after he failed to conquer Lindensea, much may we rejoice in our victory! Its name, of ancient origin, means "land of yew trees", and the kingdom's coat of arms shows a yew with three white roses. The wild boar is their sacred beast, decorating their scarlet flag to great effect.

The men and women of Everwick are a fearless, hardy people, much given to warfare and hunting, and always said by those from Lindensea to be unlearned and crude of speech. However, since they became our allies, many of us have learned to appreciate their hearty hospitality and peculiar brand of plain speaking. Like the wild boar that represents them, they tend to be shy and avoid society to a degree that seems astonishing to a Lindensonian, but their courage in the face of danger cannot be doubted.

From A Lindensea Lady's Journal of a Tour Through Our Isles by Mrs Sabrina R. Morgan