Margaret Moore - The Saxon

She could hear the rhythmic clangs of more than one smith at work, and judging by the smell, knew the stables were being cleaned out.

A few women lingered by the well and made no secret of their curiosity as they stared at her. She bowed her head very slightly, acknowledging their presence but making it very clear that she was of superior rank to them.

Endredi entered the hall and at once she realized Adelar was there. He was sitting at the farthest end, near Bayard’s seat, and the gleeman was beside him.

He was no more than any other warrior in her husband’s service, she reminded herself. She turned her attention to the hall, which was now her concern. Her nose wrinkled with disgust as she picked her way through the soiled rushes. The fire in the large hearth was out, goblets and drinking horns lay scattered amid puddles of ale and mead, benches were overturned. Several men were still sleeping there, oblivious to the time of day and the activity outside. She spotted Dagfinn immediately, his loud snoring like the growl of a bear. A young female slave she recalled from last night appeared. “Where are the servants?”

“I...I don’t know, my lady.”

Endredi knew the girl was lying, but it was also obvious that she was frightened, so she spoke kindly. “What is your name?”

“Ylla, my lady.”

“Where are the cook and the other servants, Ylla? They need not know how I discovered where they are.”

“He, um, they... Duff is in the potter’s shed.”

“And Duff is...?”

“The cook, my lady.”

“Ah. Can you point out the potter’s shed?”

Ylla went to the door and did so.

Endredi handed her the wooden box. “Please hold this for me,” she said, then she left the hall and marched toward the shed. Once there, she peered inside and saw a man and a woman, their half-clothed bodies intertwined.

Endredi turned away and went back to the hall, where she picked up one of the iron kettles and a spoon. She began to bang on the pot, the loud sound enough to wake all but the dead. Adelar and Godwin stared, and Ylla looked startled until Endredi smiled at her.

“By Odin’s eye!” Dagfinn shouted. “What are you doing?”

“It is nearly noon. I thought you might want to eat.”

He frowned as he adjusted his rumpled tunic. “Come,” he barked at his men. “I have no wish to linger here. I want to be in my own longhouse.”

Dagfinn ignored his curious men while he gathered his scattered belongings. His men staggered after him out the door, several of them barely able to stand.

In the next moment those still in the hall heard angry mumbling, then the cook came inside, pulling on his tunic. “What in the name of—”

Endredi put the kettle down.

Duff saw who was making the noise and smiled weakly. “Ah, my lady! What are you doing here? This is a...a surprise!”

“I would like something to eat,” she said. “Our guests have already departed without eating. I am most displeased.”

Duff blanched.

“Fortunately, I do not believe they were very hungry. However, I am.”

“Of course, of course.” The cook was a big man, but he bustled into the hall with surprising speed. “What would you like? Boiled fish? Fried eels? Some oatmeal?”

“Bread and boiled ham,” Endredi answered.

“The baker—”

“Must also be found and set to work. I suggest you rekindle the hearth. Then I want the servants to help this girl clean the hall. It is a disgrace.”

“Yes, my lady. At once, my lady.”

The woman Endredi recognized from the shed came inside, adjusting her bodice, her eyes wide with surprise and dismay. “Merilda!” Duff barked, making her jump. “Get to work!”

“I have something here to use in the cooking,” Endredi said, taking the wooden box from Ylla and approaching the cook.

“Oh, my lady?” he replied respectfully, if insincerely.

“Yes.” She placed the box on the ground and opened it. Immediately a wonderful spicy aroma filled the air, and despite himself, Duff moved closer to look inside. The box was filled with a variety of small earthenware jars.

“It was a wedding gift from my grandmother’s husband,” Endredi explained. “He was a trader and these spices and herbs come from all over the known world.” She glanced at Adelar. Surely he would remember Thorston, who had treated the boy so kindly and who had been repaid with thievery.

Duff gazed in awe as she lifted out a jar and gently opened the lid. “This comes from far in the East.” She closed it and brought out another. “This is from Rome.”

Duff looked as if he was being offered costly jewels until she closed the lid of the box. The maidservants no longer even pretended to work, but listened unabashedly. “Do you not intend them to be used, my lady?” he asked.

“Of course they will be used,” she said. “By me, when I help you prepare the meals.”

He regarded her with surprise. “But you are my lord’s wife!”

“I like cooking.”

“For having such a beautiful, accomplished lady who does not seek merely to be waited on, Bayard and the rest of us will be forever thankful,” the gleeman said. Endredi turned to the young man with a small smile, which vanished when she caught Adelar’s eye.

“Naturally I would welcome your help, my lady,” Duff said, scowling at the gleeman, then smiling at Endredi.

Just as naturally she doubted his truthfulness, but she guessed, from the greedy expression in his eyes when he looked at the box, that he would have said anything to get his hands on some of those spices.

“Shall we start with some stew? I think a little of this will help,” she said. She pulled out a jar.

Ordella’s voice interrupted them. “Get to work, you lazy creatures!”

Everyone turned as Ordella stepped daintily toward them, her face wreathed in smiles distinctly at odds with the harsh order she had issued. “Servants can be so slothful,” she explained sympathetically. “You shall have to take care that they fear you enough to obey you.”

“It is a well-known fact that terror inspires loyalty,” Adelar said gravely.

“Thank you for the advice,” Endredi said to Ordella, fighting an urge to look at Adelar. “If I find I have any trouble with them, I shall certainly ask your opinion.”

“What are you doing here?” Ordella asked of Adelar. She also gave Godwin a less than pleased look as the servants hurried to their work.

“Bayard has asked me to escort his bride through the burh today, if she is agreeable,” Adelar replied quietly.

“That will not be necessary,” Ordella said sharply. “I shall show Endredi what she needs to be shown.”

“Of course, that is your privilege,” Adelar responded. “But then I would be disobeying Bayard’s order.”

Endredi glanced at the two uneasily. She had no desire to spend time in Adelar’s company. Indeed, it was a strain even now. Although she tried not to, she kept wondering what he was thinking about her and trying to read his inscrutable dark eyes. It was obvious he had no wish to be near her, either, if he was acting as her escort only on Bayard’s orders.

How much better it would be to spend her time cooking, especially since the food Duff prepared was somewhat plain, if good. Then perhaps she could forget Adelar, Bayard and everyone else in this burh . However, she did not think it wise to go against Bayard’s wishes. And although she did not want to be anywhere near Ordella, it was probably best that she come along.

“I see no reason I should not enjoy the company of you both,” Endredi said at last.

“Bayard told Godwin and me to escort her, Ordella. You must have other things to do,” Adelar said coldly.