“WHA… AT?” the woman shrieked as she jumped up off the pallet, coming only to Eadyth’s shoulder, but twice as wide in girth. “Have ye taken leave of yer senses, bedevilin’ an honest servant like me?” Narrowing her eyes—small black pinpoints in her bloated face—the cook asked caustically, “Who do ye think ye be—a bloody queen?”
“Lady Eadyth of Hawks’ Lair, you lazy slut. Are you responsible for the filthy condition of this kitchen?”
Obviously frightened now that she realized her insult had been addressed to a noble lady, the woman nodded hesitantly, rubbing the sleep from her beady eyes. When she yawned widely, Eadyth almost swooned from the wave of foul breath that came her way, a combination of bad teeth and stale mead, not to mention a body and clothing that probably had not been washed since Easter. Thank the Lord, she had eaten no food prepared by the grimy hands of this old hag.
“What is your name?” Eadyth demanded in a steely voice.
“Bertha.”
“Well, Bertha, what say you of this pigsty of a kitchen?”
“Huh?”
Eadyth snorted with disgust. “How many servants are about this keep?”
Bertha scratched her armpits indolently, then began a mental count on her fingers. ” ‘Bout twelve inside, mayhap another twelve outside. Many a servant and cotter left durin’ these two years the master has been gone.”
“Who was in charge in his absence?”
The cook shrugged her bulky shoulders. “Master Wilfrid, but he be gone much of the time, as well, since his wife died last year. Bless her sweet soul!” Bertha looked dutifully sorrowful at the loss of Wilfrid’s wife. Hah! Wilfrid had not looked to be in mourning when last she had seen him, Eadyth remembered cynically, picturing him with the naked servant.
“I want you to gather every single servant—thrall or churl—in this kitchen immediately. Do you understand me?”
The cook nodded dumbly.
When the scurvy group of sluggards crowded into the kitchen area a short time later, Eadyth already had water heating on the hearth and pots and trenchers and goblets soaking. She gave the servants a tongue lashing they would not soon forget, then specific directions on tasks she wanted accomplished within the hour.
“Bertha, I want the floors and walls of this kitchen swept and scrubbed. All the cutting boards are to be scoured, and fresh flour brought in for baking. I will check the food supplies in the larder for spoilage and worms, which will be considerable, I warrant.
“Lambert, get another man to help you cut and stack a five-day supply of firewood for the cooking fires. Agnes and Sybil will gather the eggs and milk the cows.” She hesitated then and looked to Bertha. “There are cows, are there not?”
Bertha nodded her head slightly. “Only one cow be left, and mayhap two dozen hens.”
“Good, we will churn some butter when the milk is brought in.”
On and on she went with her instructions until a few of the servants rolled their bleary eyes in their heads.
Then Eadyth turned to the great hall, ordering some of the men to sweep out all the filthy rushes and replace them with fresh, herb-scented ones. Others she set to scrubbing the trestle tables and sweeping cobwebs from the walls. Still others lifted dusty tapestries from the stone walls and took them out to the bailey for a good shaking.
Most important, to her thinking, she banned all dogs from the great hall for the time being. Even so, the stupid hound from the night before kept following her around like a love-struck swain. Giving in momentarily, she looked about quickly to make sure no one watched, then bent down and scratched him lightly behind the ears, causing the beast’s tongue to loll out in ecstasy. Eadyth shook her head in mock disgust.
” ‘Twas a lackwit thing you did yestereve, hound, in front of a gentle lady, no less, but I did not mean to hurt you, even if ’twas only a mild nudge of my shoe.” She sat back on her haunches and examined him closely. “Ah, you are a fine breed. I can see that now. Surely, your lineage is impeccable. Do you have a name? Nay? Well, then, I shall call you… what? Prince?”