Page 12 of Lord of Misrule

“I knew this was a bad idea,” said Brenna, her eyes starting to close from being tired. Kit wanted to muffle her because she was going to spoil her plan.

“I never go anywhere without my other bakers,” Kit blurted out hoping Brenna wouldn’t say anything else.

“Your other bakers?” asked Brenna. Kit put her finger to her lips, turning her head so only Brenna could see her.

“My orders from Lord Tolin were to pick up the baker and her son. No one else. I’m afraid they’re not coming with us on this journey.” Jarvis wasn’t budging with his decision. This was not turning out well at all. Kit needed to come up with another plan quickly.

The sky was about ready to open up, and the last thing she wanted was to leave Oliver and Brenna here in the midst of a storm. They wouldn’t know what to do. Nay, they would never survive on their own. They needed her, and she didn’t want to disappoint them.

“Lord Tolin told me he wanted me to bake tarts,” said Kit. “And bread. Also, enough food for the celebrations he has planned from now until Twelfth Night. For that kind of volume, more bakers then normal are needed. That is why they are here and coming to the castle with us.”

“Oh,” said Jarvis, seeming to ponder the thought. “I suppose that makes sense. Lord Tolin does tend to get quite carried away with celebrations and the amount of people he invites to join him. His father left him in charge of the feast days from Christmas until Twelfth Night. I suppose a few extra bakers would come in handy.”

“So, we can leave now?” Kit raised her head and looked up at the sky. “I would hate for all the bread and baked goods I am bringing along for Lord Tolin to get ruined by the storm.”

“You have food in those bags?” Jarvis sounded hungry. He turned to look over his shoulder at the bags in the back of the wagon.

“Plenty of it,” Kit assured him. “Freshly baked this morning, I might add.”

The squire looked over at her and nodded. “You’re right. We wouldn’t want the food to get wet and ruined. Lord Tolin would never forgive me if that happened. We’d better go.” Jarvis took the reins and they finally started moving toward the castle.

Kit looked over at her sister and nodded slightly. They’d made it past the first obstacle, but would they be as lucky once they entered the castle courtyard? It was going to be hard enough getting Oliver and Brenna past that obnoxious guard. But Lord Tolin was a different story altogether. Would he see this as an opportunity to make the situation into another one of his silly games by sending Oliver and Brenna away? That, she could not allow. Even from the short time she’d spent with the obnoxious man, she knew better than anyone that competition was everything to him. Another thing that was clear was that he was a man who wasn’t used to losing.

Tolin lounged atop the battlements, drinking and playing dice with the guards. He’d rather be at the tavern, but Brother Ruford had been following him around and he was trying to shake him. At least he knew the overweight monk wouldn’t attempt to climb the steep stairs to the top of the castle walls.

He was about to throw the dice again when he heard the squeak of the wheels of the wagon driven by his squire as it arrived. By the loud rumbling sound he knew they were crossing the drawbridge. A second rumble filled the air, and that one was the threatening weather overhead.

“Stop. Who goezzz there?” Henry the guard called down, looking over the battlements. They’d been playing a drinking game and Henry had become a little too familiar with the bottle of whisky they were using. Tolin could already hear the man slurring his words.

“It’s me, Jarvis,” came Tolin’s squire’s voice from below. “Raise the gate, quickly. It is raining and we have a very pregnant woman here.”

“What?” Tolin looked up and over to the guard. “Did Jarvis say something about a pregnant woman?” He didn’t remember the fair wench named Kit looking pregnant at all.

“Aye. Certainly looks that way.” Henry took another swig of whisky, peering down over the battlements, almost losing his balance and teetering on the edge. “Raise the gate,” he ordered the other men, throwing his hand in the air.

Tolin jumped up, sticking the dice back in his pouch. He hurriedly made his way to the battlements. Glancing over the edge, he saw only the back end of the wagon as it rolled through the gate. “Damn it, what is going on here?” He pulled the bottle out of Henry’s hand. “The only ones allowed to enter were the wench and her son. Are you telling me there was a pregnant woman with them?”

“Yes. And a man and a boy too. And a boy. Did I already say that?” Henry squinted as if thinking, trying his best to hold back a burp.

“Henry, go sleep it off in the armory. And no more whisky for you.” Tolin took a swig as the sky opened up and the rain pelted down. “Take this,” he said, shoving the bottle into the hands of another guard and running down the stairs to the courtyard to meet his prisoners. Something was amiss and he had a feeling the wench was trying to pull something over on him. She was a sly one. He knew that from the moment he’d met her. Aye, he needed to keep a closer eye on her than even with the light-fingered lad.

When he got to the courtyard, everyone was running from the rain, trying to take shelter inside. He dodged a couple of washwomen, a group of children, two barking dogs, and the jester, who was already soaking wet.

“Out of my way,” he grumbled, getting to the wagon just in time to see the backs of a woman and a man entering the great hall. The boy was dragging a bag behind him and following them.

“Lord Tolin,” said Jarvis, taking the rest of the baggage out of the back of the wagon. He was so loaded down he could barely walk while carrying all these things.

“Jarvis, who were those people who just entered the castle?” He pointed to the great hall, extending his arm outward.

“Oh, thank you. I could use a little help.” Kit surprised him when she appeared, coming around the wagon, looping the handle of a very full and heavy bag over his extended arm. She held on to another full bag. Then she turned and headed toward the great hall.

“Stop!” he called out, purposely dropping the bag she’d looped over his arm. The contents inside clanged together as it hit the ground.

“Nay! Careful with that,” Kit cried, running back to inspect the contents of the bag. “I have some of my best baking pans in there, not to mention glass jars of herbs and spices. I hope you didn’t break them.” She bent over, digging through the bag as the rain continued to fall all around them.

“Pardon me, my lord, but these are getting heavier with the rain.” Jarvis stepped around him, hauling the things to the great hall.

“What is all this?” bellowed Tolin.