Chapter 13 Chun
The kitchens were hot and noisy; there was a large steaming pot on an large impressive spit over a huge fire. A small, thin boy on a stool was stirring the contents as best he could, as he had to stretch to reach the pot, it looked as if the fire was slowly roasting him. A tall girl in a white apron, that was much too big for her, was rolling pastry and dusting flour around the table, the chef, a sallow faced man, cuffed her head as he passed with a bowl under one arm.
‘Too much flour Anita! Look at the mess!’ He pulled up short at the sight of Euny and Gerent in the doorway.
‘Well and what have we here?’ he walked around Euny, who was taller than he was, eyed her up and down and said, ‘pretty, very pretty. Now what do you two urchins want?’
‘Please sir we need work,’ replied Euny in a very winning girl’s voice, ‘my brother and I hoped you might have a place for us in the kitchens.’
‘You I could use.’ The chef replied rubbing his hands together with relish, ‘but the scrawny brat there you call a brother, no.’
‘Then I cannot stay,’ replied Euny, ‘for we have lost both our parents and must stay together. Come brother!’ Euny turned and the chef hurriedly called out:
‘Now, now! No need to hurry, I don’t need a boy at the moment,’ he glanced at the sweating individual over the fire, ‘but I soon might, I could put him to work if you will stay, I need a good serving maid and you would be ideal, have you dished up before?’ Euny nodded in a shy way, Gerent was in awe of the knight’s acting and remained silent, ‘good,’ continued the chef, ‘start now. Aprons over there,’ he pointed, ‘wash bucket over there, plating up here, trays there, cutlery in that box, got that?’ Euny nodded, ‘good, you boy, what’s your name?’
‘Uh, Ulf sir,’ said Gerent taking off his cap and twisting it in his hands.
‘Oh ho! Ulf the oaf eh? That’s good that is, like that do you boy,’ he nudged the boy stirring the pot so hard in the back he almost fell in to the pot, ‘eh? Ulf the oaf, well oaf, sorry I mean Ulf,’ he laughed at his own words, ‘take this to the midden,’ and he kicked at a large bucket, brimming with peelings and waste food.
‘Sorry where?’ asked Gerent.
‘The midden boy! The midden! Just out that door and round the back near the pig’s keep, go on!’ He stepped toward Gerent and raised the back of his hand to him. Gerent did not need to guess what that meant and so he ducked under the hand, grabbed the heavy bucket and disappeared out the door to the rear of the kitchen. Gerent found himself in the open air he was in a small, enclosed yard. In one corner he saw a low wall and could hear the sound of pigs on the other side of it. Gerent carried the bucket across the yard in that direction and going behind the pigs, he found a small wooden hatch in the wall. He smelt, before he saw, the open tip of rubbish that lay outside the wall on the ground below the hatch. This then, he concluded, must be the midden and so he hoisted the heavy bucket up and tipped it out onto the putrid heap below. He returned to the kitchen after having a quick look around the yard and noting the only other exit, a large, solid wooden gate, which appeared would lead into the courtyard of the castle when open.
When he returned from the yard he saw Euny had laid up some meat and vegetables onto a plate, she had set it out very appetisingly and was adding a sprig of parsley and watercress to garnish, the chef was watching her with pride.
‘Well done missey!’ he praised, ‘I can see you are going to be an asset!’ Euny glanced up at Gerent with a wry smile, the chef caught the glance and stepped swiftly across to Gerent cuffed him around the ear.
‘Took your time about it didn’t you oaf? Now get to those dishes in there, help Wig!’ Gerent was pushed in through another doorway and found the boy who had been stirring the pot was now bent over a steaming tub washing pots and pans. He looked starved, scared and tired, Gerent took over washing from him and he picked up a towel to dry.
‘Did you save any?’ he whispered, Gerent glanced at him:
‘Save any what?’
‘Any slops, you didn’t, did you? No I thought you wouldn’t,’ he shook his head sadly, ‘Chef Oswald did that on purpose, sent you with the slops, he knew you wouldn’t know.’
‘Know what?’ asked Gerent passing him a large platter to dry.
‘Know about keeping something to eat, we don’t get anything unless we take it from the slop bucket,’ replied Wig sadly, ‘now we won’t have anything until tomorrow. He’s a mean one.’
‘You’re joking!’
‘No talking in there!’ came the chef’s voice from the kitchen and Wig bent his head, said no more but got on with the drying and stacking of dishes. Once the wooden tub had been emptied down the midden, Gerent wondered how Wig had managed to carry on his own before, the chef set them both to peeling onions for the evening meal. Gerent had never peeled onions before, he didn’t realise how they could sting and his eyes were red and painful before they had finished. When Euny came back from serving the king’s meal there was a lunch for the knight, served by chef Oswald, at the kitchen table. The chef was fawning all over Euny, obviously fooled into believing Euny was a girl as he said things such as:
‘We don’t want you wasting away’ and:
‘much too pretty a face to be soiling those delicate hands with work’. From what Gerent could see, as he peeled the onions, Euny’s face told him how close the knight was to rearranging the chef’s own features, permanently! Euny was then set to folding napkins and arranging cutlery for the dining hall upstairs, which Euny then had to take up, Gerent was glad to see that it was all falling into place, that they had access to the king’s meal and the castle as well. After the onions he was sent with logs to the dining hall to replenish the supply piled up beside the fire, he felt tired and hungry but still could not believe he would not get anything to eat unless it was from the slops. He looked around as much as he dared as he carried the logs, which took several trips, he passed Euny but apart from a glance, they did not have the opportunity to speak, as there were guards stood in every room and hallway.
After the evening meal had been served and cleared, during which Oswald had cuffed Gerent several times, Wig showed them where they were to sleep. It was a small, dark, cellar with straw mattresses laid on the floor, Wig had made two for Euny and Gerent that afternoon, they lay down in their clothes, Gerent hungry and exhausted, they had not been fed, except Euny, who had had the same treatment in the evening as received at lunchtime. Gerent could tell that Euny wanted to talk after the others were asleep, but he was so tired he just fell fast asleep and did not wake up again until Oswald kicked him early the next morning.
While he roused himself, which took some doing, he realised that both Anita and Wig had disappeared, Euny quickly asked him for the powder and pushed it into an apron pocket. Brunnstan made himself visible for a moment and expressed concern over Gerent but Euny brushed it aside saying he would get used to hard work and knocks and that it would not be for long. Gerent felt this was all right for him as he was not being beaten, but he told Brunnstan that he would be fine and not to worry. Gerent’s shoulders really ached and he felt frail, as if he could close his eyes and drift away forever, but he knew he had work to do in the kitchen and that Oswald would be calling ‘Oaf!’ if he did not hurry up.
The next four days past in a similar manner to the first, except Gerent remembered to save food from the slop bin and Euny, who had not realised that they were not fed saved food from each meal for Gerent, Brunnstan, Wig and Anita. At first, Brunnstan also stole what he could from the larder, but the chef quickly noticed the missing food and when Anita was blamed and beaten for it, Brunnstan stopped. Each day, breakfast, lunch and dinner Euny put the powder on the king’s meal, Gerent knew it would take about five days to have some effect and he longed for some reaction from the king, but still no one saw the king emerge. Then one day as he tipped the waste onto the midden he noticed one of Euny’s rose shaped cut tomatoes, which had been on the king’s plate, on the edge of the midden. He stared at it and thought back to the returned tray from the king that lunchtime, the plates had been empty and there had not been any leftovers on it at all. Gerent had the horrible thought that the king was not being given the meals that Euny had prepared, that they had wasted the last five days.
As he was sent to carry logs, he called Euny over to the fireplace and hurriedly explained what he had seen, they did not have time to talk further but that night Euny shook Gerent until he did wake up.
‘We need to get into the king’s apartments to see what’s going on.’ hissed Euny, Gerent yawned.
‘Well that should be easy for you, you take the king’s meal in every day don’t you?’
‘No, Coppinger takes the meal from me at the door of the throne room. I need to have a reason to go in, we need a diversion that would cause Coppinger to leave the king just as I was due to go in, the guards know me well enough now I think I could just go in without a problem.’
‘What diversion?’ asked Gerent trying to focus on the problem instead of his tiredness and aches.
‘Perhaps Lordling, Meendhu and I could provide a diversion with our mage and bear act? If we called upon the king, Coppinger would have to speak to us as no one can afford to upset a mage.’ said Brunstan, with pride in his voice.
‘Good idea Brunnstan, would you go and see if Meendhu would help?’ asked Euny. Brunnstan replied:
‘I have no need to ask, of course he will, be ready at lunch tomorrow sir knight, we will be here. Lordling, is that acceptable to you?’
‘Great idea Brunnstan, well done, off you go, now can we get some sleep I have potatoes to peel before the sun comes up.’ Gerent said wanting the talking to be over, yawning and groggy with sleep. Brunnstan said nothing but left at once.
‘That was a bit mean, he had a good idea there and he looked to you for approval.’ Euny said in an annoyed tone.
‘I gave it,’ said Gerent snuggling down onto his mattress.
‘Yes, but in what a way,’ replied Euny in a hard voice, also lying down once more.
Gerent was woken by the crack of a stick across his legs,
‘Get up Ulf the oaf! The others have been at work long since, I have called you twice now.’ The stick descended again and Gerent sat up rubbing his legs.
‘Ow!’
‘It’ll be more than ‘ow’ if you don’t get moving, don’t think your pretty sister is enough reason to excuse you from work, no backsliding here! Come on up!’ Gerent felt himself pulled to his feet by his ear and hauled up the short flight of stairs into the kitchen. Wig and Anita put their heads down as he was dragged in, wanting to remain unnoticed as the chef was now in a foul temper. He flung Gerent at the pile of potatoes waiting in a corner.
‘Get to it’ Oswald snarled menacingly. Euny sat impassively at the table, almost as if the knight felt this treatment served Gerent right for the way he had spoken to Brunnstan last night. Gerent picked up the knife and began to peel, it was hard to focus on the potatoes, he knew he was going slowly and making a poor job of it. He slipped the first potato into the waiting tub of water and chef Oswald marched over and snatched it out. Gerent noticed Euny get up, take the napkins and leave the kitchen for the dining hall.
‘Is this it?’ shrieked the chef, nearly apoplectic, ‘look at the state of this!’ Wig disappeared into the scullery and Anita bent her head lower to the table as she shelled peas.
‘What do you call this?’ Oswald waved the potato under Gerent’s nose; Gerent couldn’t help uttering the words that came unbidden to his lips.
‘A potato’ he replied and regretted it instantly as the chef’s fist smashed into the side of his face and sent him sprawling onto the potato pile.
‘None of your cheek here Ulf the oaf! Get moving and try not to waste half the potato in the peelings!’ Oswald stomped off and Gerent, his head throbbing, dragged himself upright and began to peel the next potato, he did not feel strong enough to protest.
By mid morning Gerent had managed to finish the potato pile and had received several more blows from the chef. Wig was sent to replenish the log pile in the dining hall and then the chef outlined plans for a large feast that evening, where several Lords and Ladies were expected. Gerent was put to tend a boar, which was loaded onto the spit over the fire and needed to be turned for the rest of the day. It was hot work and Gerent had to stand up to turn the heavy spit. When he stopped for a drink Oswald cuffed him back to his position by the fire and said he would have to wait until the roasting was done. Euny came in to tray up the king’s meal and gave Gerent a concerned glance.
‘Are you alright?’ Euny quietly asked while sidling past Gerent, he nodded wearily, knowing that now was not the time to hinder Brunnstan’s plan. Euny took the tray and glanced at Gerent once more before leaving to get into the king’s rooms.
Oswald was distracted a few minutes later by a noise coming from the entrance hall, there were people shouting, he looked around the kitchen and then slipped up the stairs. Gerent let go the spit and wearily followed, he sidled of out the door behind Oswald, unnoticed, and slipped behind one of the large pillars, glancing out he could just see Meendhu’s head above the crowd that had gathered and assumed Brunnstan was putting on his mage act. Gerent slipped across the hall and went up the stairs toward the king’s chamber in time to see the single remaining guard was holding Euny tightly by the arm, the tray fallen on the floor, and was leading Euny back toward the hall. Gerent hid behind a pillar and the two passed him, he glanced at them to ensure they were leaving and then dashed for the entrance doors and slipped inside.
Gerent found himself in a large room with a high vaulted ceiling, the floor was highly polished wood and at the far side on a dais was a throne, draped in a red cloak, it was the only piece of furniture in the room. Gerent crossed the floor and went behind the throne, there he found a single door, which he opened and found himself in a room full of armchairs, books and sofas. It was very sumptuous, but there was also no one there, he went on and entered the room beyond, which was a bedroom fit for a king, but again there was no one there. Gerent searched behind the hangings for another door or a secret passage but could find nothing, he returned to the outer room and as he was searching there he heard voices coming towards the door, one of which he recognised as Madron’s. Desperately he glanced round for somewhere to hide but all he could see was a large sofa and so he dived behind it just as the door was opened and Madron was shown into the room.
‘I do apologise my Lord for the mess outside the door, no doubt the stupid girl spilt the tray. What a good thing you were on hand to deal with that punitive little mage and his bear, I have never known such a thing, demanding to see the king! Now we are alone,’ said a voice, Gerent guessed must be Coppinger, as the door was closed.
‘Well, I discerned that he had very little magic to threaten us with, but it does concern me that the king was asked for and by a mage, no matter how small, I take it they are not local?’
‘Indeed not, my lord, or they would be under the influence charm by now, I have never seen the pair before, but it can be arranged that they visit a local hostel for the night and then they shall feel differently about asking to see the king.’
‘Or I could arrange it so that they join him, I do not like the idea of a roaming mage asking questions, I believe the king’s tomb will hold more than one?’ the voice was proud, sneering and haughty.
‘Just so my lord,’ came the grovelling reply, ‘just say the word and I would give his majesty some company. He should have made room for some by now as his majesty must have decomposed somewhat in two months!’ and the two men laughed cruelly. Gerent could not believe it, what they had just said meant that the king was dead and that Madron was actually ruling the country without anyone knowing. They had used the influence charm so that no one would question the king’s absence.
‘To more pressing matters, when is the captain of your guard due back here, Coppinger?’
‘Unfortunately, not until next week Lord, I have heard he has been successful in his undertakings, he would be an asset to us in the assault upon Widnbrea but as you say this must be undertaken at once.’
‘Indeed it must, my troops and yours should be enough to overcome the rabble army my ex-captain has seen fit to put together from the stragglers who have assembled there. I must be rid of this Warlock, his reputation and his meddling grow, but, fortunately, his power does not. Thanks to my own dear child, we have found out that he is part of the castle and this is his weakness. If we destroy the very walls around him we shall destroy him.’ Gerent held his breath.
‘The troops should reach there within three days lord and the Dhu Buccas are with them,’ Coppinger replied, ‘he cannot possibly defeat their magic for it is the oldest and strongest of all. But what of the one in the prophecy?’
‘We need no longer concern ourselves with him, he is a walking corpse, my precious one has seen to that. He cannot help anyone anymore, wherever he is. Once Widnbrea has returned to the mist.’ Madron said in a confident tone, ‘We shall begin to flood Netherzoyland so the Buccas are appeased and we need to secure the southern land, after Widnbrea I shall send the Buccas southward, but as they only travel through water we need to plan our assault accordingly, you have the charts?’
‘This way my lord, I have placed them in the king’s chamber for safety.’ Gerent heard the two men rise and go into the bedroom, he decided that this would be a good time to leave and keeping low he crept open, slowly opened the door to the throne room, crept out and softly closed it behind him again. He ran across the huge polished floor and skidded to a halt at the door. He knew he should be at ease as he went through as there were bound to be guards back on duty outside and so boldly, he pulled open both doors, turned and bowed his way out of the throne room. The two guards looked at him in amazement as he closed the doors and stood upright, Gerent smiled knowingly at them and then slowly walked down the stairs. Once on the steps to the kitchen he flew down to resume his place by the fire but he skidded to a halt at the kitchen door as he saw Oswald standing by the boar.
Oswaldo’s face was as black as thunder, the boar was clearly burnt on one side, while still almost raw on the other, Oswald grabbed Gerent by the ear and dragged him to the boar so that his nose almost touched it.
‘See! See what you’ve done! And where is that precious sister of yours eh? Gone, that’s what gone! Run off! Trying to see the king and tipping her tray all over the floor! Mages with bears, disappearing sisters, I treated that girl like my own and this is how she repays me! And you! Where have you been when you should have been here turning this spit? Wig bring me the rope, you’ll stay here and turn or I shall want to know why!’ Gerent tried to stammer out that he was sorry but Oswald just grabbed his wrists and tied him to the spit handle.
‘Turn!’ He commanded and cut Gerent across the back of the legs with a stick. Gerent’s legs buckled, but he saved himself from falling in the fire, he pushed and began slowly to turn the heavy spit.
Wig, who came and fed the fire, gave him sympathetic glances, but Gerent knew neither he nor Anita would interfere, he wondered what had happened to Euny, from what the chef had said Gerent did not think Euny had been captured or recognised. Surely, they wouldn’t, he hardly dare think it, they wouldn’t go and leave him, but he had been short with Brunnstan and Euny had reprimanded him for it. Gerent grew hotter and hotter over the fire and his turning grew slower. He felt he was melting down into the flames with every hiss of fat running off the huge boar carcass and landing in the drip tray below. Eventually his own tiredness and pains combined with the heat of the fire to make him feel he could not remain conscious any longer, he knew he would burn, but his legs could not support him further and he passed out.
Gerent was aware that he was hauled out of the kitchen as the cool air struck him. He felt himself being dragged across cobbles, heaved upward and over, then he was falling, falling. The landing was soft, if not squashy and as he dragged his eyes open he could smell a familiar rotting smell, he realised he was on the midden. High above him set in the stonewall Gerent could see the wooden hatch and he knew what usually came through it down on to the midden. He forced himself to roll to one side of the heap to avoid having slops tipped on top of him and he lay there in too much pain and too exhausted to go any further, thinking to himself that they had tossed him out like a piece of rubbish.
He wandered in and out of conciousness and knew he had to regain strength to get out of the midden as soon as possible. Madron’s words about Sancret, the king and himself jumble through his mind. He wondered why he was a walking corpse as Madron had put it.
He was roused from a daze when he felt himself lifted by a strong pair of arms and hoisted over a shoulder, he recognised it was Euny and said, ‘You didn’t leave me’
‘No’ was the short reply and Gerent closed his eyes knowing he was safe.
When he next opened them, he was in the wood, being tended by Brunnstan. He was applying salve to Gerent’s legs and forehead, he tried to sit but the Brownie stopped him saying:
‘Not yet Lordling, there’s some nasty burns here, but they’ll be alright by morning.’ Gerent wanted to speak but found his throat was dry, Brunnstan called Meendhu, who came and supported his head so he could drink.
‘There is no king,’ he croaked out as soon as he felt able to speak.
‘What?’ came Euny’s voice and Gerent repeated:
‘There is no king.’
‘How do you know?’ asked Euny and Gerent was about to reply when Meendhu said:
‘Na he needs rest, tomorrow is soon enough, we can hear all tomorrow and do what we must then. Tonight he needs rest.’ Gerent could not argue and hearing Brunnstan agree with Meendhu he let himself fall asleep again.
When he woke, Gerent felt stronger and was eager to tell what he had seen and heard. The others were stunned by what he had to say and Euny was impressed that Gerent had succeeded in getting into the king’s chamber. All of them saw the need to return to Widnbrea at once, Sancret would need them, they were fairly confident that N’zar’s army would be able to defend the castle, but none of them there knew what they now did. Meendhu was keen to be on his way and so they saddled the two horses at once and set off. Although Gerent felt better for the salve, he felt it had not worked as well as previously and Madron’s words ‘walking corpse’ kept coming back to him. He knew that Brunnstan could tell he was not fully recovered as during the day’s ride he asked Gerent several times if he was all right and Gerent always cheerily replied that he was, he did not want to cause any delays. The pace was brisk as they all felt the need to reach Widnbrea as soon as possible; they rode until after dark and started again before light. Each night Brunnstan put salve on Gerent’s chest and legs, the burns healed and yet each morning he felt no better, but he told Brunnstan confidently that he felt no worse either to relieve the Brownie’s anxious looks. Gerent felt as though a numbness was falling over him and he felt that the hard riding that they were doing tired him more than it should.