The Ten Clans Chronicles

Chapter 10: Deserters

Forest lounged against the serving counter on the Banquet Hall side. Kaermer gathered the remaining food and drink left from that morning's breakfast from his helpers and came bustling into the kitchen, pushing it on an awkward-wheeled trolley. His assistant cook, Kalia, lunged for a teetering bowl of corn pudding that threatened to fall from the precariously tipping cart. She held it up triumphantly as Kaermer freed the tray, which was laden with leftover food, from the almost-wreckage of the trolley. Forest chuckled as he watched their antics of struggling with the troublesome trolley.

Kaermer gave him a cold look before turning away to deal with the food, then tried to ignore him all together. Together, the two cooks put the majority of the food away for snacking purposes later on, when they knew the relieved wallguards would be ravenous. The plump head cook placed pieces of snake filets—made, of course, from the one Wyte had defeated—a bowl of corn pudding, and a small flask of cactus pear cordial on another tray. Forest still had not gotten his laughter under control.

"Here, Kalia, take this," Kaermer said, motioning to his assistant and glaring at the mirthful forager all in one movement. "Take this tray of food h'up t' Wyte h'in the infirmary, would you?" The young meerkat nodded and, with the tray in paw, immediately left the kitchen.

Kaermer and Forest could hear her light pawfalls as she ascended the staircase for only a few moments after she disappeared. The head cook wagged a paw severely under the forager's whiskers.

"Wot?" Forest threw up his paws, at the height of innocence, attempting to fend off Kaermer's indignant glare. The cook's face transformed into a long-suffering smile.

"It was definitely quite a bit quieter out there without that young scalawag Wyte about," he commented with a twinkle in his eye, motioning towards the Banquet Hall where breakfast had been served.

He chuckled. The head forager chortled. "Aye, I'll vouch fer that, mate. 'E always sits by me, bouncy 'n' boisterous."

Both meerkats chuckled, remembering the ever-energetic youngster and his usual antics. A small clatter came to their ears from the stairwell, followed by a crash and a wail. In the next moment, Wyte vaulted into the kitchen space, using a pair of sturdy, homemade crutches and his good hindpaw to propel himself.

Kaermer looked on, his face a mask of horror.

"Like I tol' ye mate, bouncy 'n' boisterous," Forest whispered into his ear.

"Bouncy ain't the word," Kaermer hissed back. "Doesn't do 'im justice."

On seeing that the cook was about to reprimand the youngster, Forest laid a halting paw on his shoulder.

"Don' say anythin' yet, Kaermer, 'cause if y' know Mai Volyn, she'll be down 'ere promptly t' fetch that young 'un an'll reprimand 'im herself." Sure enough, not far behind the escaped miscreant came an irate Mai Volyn with a tearful Kalia in her wake, sodden with Wyte's former breakfast from ears to tail.

"Din' like Kaermer's food, eh Wyte?" Forest snickered. "So y' had to throw it in Kalia's face." He shook his head in mock despair.

Wyte reddened considerably beneath his fur and hurriedly stuttered an apology to the assistant cook. "I—I'm sorry, uh, Kalia... I, uh, ran into you... and the food..." He broke off awkwardly, shrugging with his crutches. Forest shook with suppressed laughter all the while.

Just then, Wyte spotted Mai Volyn, who was positively fuming, and dug his crutches hard into the kitchen's stone floor in attempt to propel himself right past her to safety.

Wyte had moved too late.

Despite his attempts, the motherly infirmary keeper seized him around the waist as he went hurtling past her. She seemed to be quite strong despite her bandaged chest and broken collarbone, for she held out beneath his wild struggling and carried him off to the infirmary under one arm, berating him the entire way.