LIFE WAS GOOD. Not just good. It was right next door to perfect.
Dani shook the long piece of linen she held, snapping it in the air in front of her with a satisfying crack. The cloth the kitchen girl, Jeanne, had brought to her would serve as a wonderful apron.
She wrapped it around her middle, tying the ends behind at her waist. Later she’d see if she couldn’t work with the seamstresses in the castle to come up with a proper apron, but for now, this would work just fine.
She twirled in a tight little circle, feeling more than a bit like a fairy-tale princess. She was making friends in her new home, and yesterday her fairy-tale prince had all but declared his intention of marrying her.My lady,he called her. And not in the vernacular of time, but as in “You are my lady.” Little wonder she hadn’t been able to sleep in more than catnaps all night.
With another twirl and one last reassuring pat to the coil of hair she’d fixed in place, she was out the door and hurrying through the dawn-gray halls to the stairs and beyond.
To her surprise, even as early as it was, the castle was already astir, with young boys and girls bustling about in the great hall. She passed through the cavernous room with its great fireplaces set at either side, wondering at all the activity.
Maids scuttled down the normally empty hallway, smiling and nodding in greeting as they passed, relieving some of Dani’s anxiety. It almost felt as if she’d passed some entrance exam over the past few days in the kitchens and was now accepted as someone who belonged.
She paused at the entry to the kitchen, squaring her shoulders. Though she had yet to carry off a dish on her own, today would be her true test, at least for her own sense of self. From start to finish, from baking the bread this morning to putting together the dessert she planned for the midday meal, today she would put her newly acquired knowledge to work.
With both hands, she pushed open the door and was very nearly run down by a young boy, his arms filled with wood scraps.
“Beggin’ yer pardon, my lady,” he called breathlessly, racing past her.
Lord. She’d thought the great hall was busy, but by comparison to the activity in the kitchen, it might as well have been deserted.
Right in the center of all of it, she located Ada. The old cook, her hair covered with a tightly wrapped scarf, her sleeves rolled up beyond her elbows, appeared to be in her element, directing the rush of bodies.
A rush Dani hadnotexpected.
She’d taken care to make sure she hadn’t overslept. In her excitement and determination not to be late, she’d swear she’d awoken every hour on the hour throughout the night. And yet, these people had clearly been hard at it for quite some time.
“I thought you said we’d begin at sunrise.” She was, in fact, positive that was their appointed time to begin.
The old cook looked up from the huge pot she stirred, a look of surprise sweeping over her perspiration-dotted brow. “Och, lassie, we’ll no be spending our time on a midday meal on this day. We’ve a feast for this very night that needs preparing, we have.”
Dani ignored her twinge of disappointment and summoned a smile. “Then tell me how I can help. I’ll do whatever you need.”
Whatever it was that drove this beehive of activity, obviously it was important to all these people. And since they were her people now, it was important to her, too.
“Good on you, lassie. All hands are welcome on this day, what with so little warning to prepare. Jeanne!” She waved the dripping wooden spoon in her hand, summoning the young maid who’d become Dani’s right hand in her kitchen adventures. “Lady Danielle has offered her help. I’m putting her in yer care, aye?”
Jeanne’s head bobbed up and down and, with a grin, she clasped Dani’s hand in her own and led her to the end of a table piled high with stacks of vegetables.
“All we need to do is cut them into pieces and toss them into the buckets. One of the lads will carry them over to where Cook needs them.”
Dani worked in silence, establishing a rhythm with Jeanne until the buckets in front of them began to fill.
“What’s this feast for? I hadn’t heard a word about it until I walked in here this morning.”
“Nor any of us, either, until Cook came round in the middle of the night, rousting us from our pallets. The Feast of Odin, she called it. I hear they’ll even be uncorking the Berserker brew.” The young woman’s grin spread across her face, lighting her eyes. “I’ve heard tell of what it does to a man, aye? I’m looking forward to seeing for my own self what effect it has my Eymer if Cook’s tales are true. It could be quite an evening.”
“And I as well,” the woman working at the next table over added. “Though not on yer lad, Jeanne. I only hope I’m no too tired to reap the benefits.”
“I dinna think it possible for you to ever be that tired, Matildis,” another woman chimed in to a ripple of muffled giggles.
“True,” Matildis replied with a little shimmy of her shoulders. “There’s naught like a hardened stallion to renew a woman’s energy, lest it be a roomful of them.”
Muffled giggles turned to outright laughter.
“Matildis!” one of the older women admonished. “Watch yer tongue. There’s wee lassies about.”
“Wee lassies need to hear the truth of it as well,” Matildis replied with a shrug. “And if that bog myrtle brew works as Cook says, you’ll do well to keep those wee lassies safely tucked in their rooms tonight with their doors bolted, along with any others who’ve no enjoyment for the ride.”
