Page 16 of Lord of Misrule

Tolin’s eyes swept over to Kit and he released a deep sigh. There was no other choice. He had an idea and hoped to hell this would work. “There is a new head baker as of today.”

“There is?” asked Emeric.

“Yes. All of you, follow me. I am going to address the kitchen help.” He made his way to the kitchen with his squire, his steward, Kit and her son following. He stepped into the room where all the servants seemed to be in a dither, needing a leader, upset about Arvid’s passing.

“Attention, everyone,” said Tolin, raising his voice as well as a hand in the air. The kitchen servants became quiet, venturing closer to hear him. “It has been brought to my attention that Arvid passed away peacefully in his sleep.”

Murmurs went up from the bystanders.

“Although this is a sad occasion, the mourning for the man will have to wait until after Twelfth Night. It is Christmastide and plans need to be carried out.”

“Tolin, I heard about the head baker.” Rook walked into the kitchen with Brother Ruford at his side. They were the last people he wanted to see right now. Raven entered right after them, not saying a word.

“That’s right,” Tolin answered. “It is a misfortunate situation, but being Christmastide things must continue as planned.”

“Then you need to appoint a new head baker anon,” Rook told him. “The great hall will be filled with people soon expecting the normal Christmastide treats.”

“I was just about to do that,” Tolin remarked.

“Who is it?” The monk looked around the room. “It needs to be someone who will carry out your orders as well as be able to act swiftly in an emergency such as this. Someone who is as proficient as Arvid was at turning out the delicious baked goods.”

“I couldn’t agree with you more,” said Tolin. “That is why I have chosen a new head baker who will not only fill Arvid’s shoes but make the Christmastide celebrations the best that Blake Castle has ever had.”

“Well, who is it?” asked Raven. “No one can bake like Arvid could.”

“The castle’s new head baker is none other than the owner of the village bakery. Kit Baker.” He held out his arm as he announced it. The room became silent while Kit’s jaw dropped.

Kit couldn’t believe that Tolin had just put her in such a horrendous situation. He announced her as the castle’s new head baker and she didn’t like it in the least. She was only here until Twelfth Night to work off her son’s debt. He made this sound like a permanent position.

“Her? The girl from town is the castle’s new head baker?” asked Rook. “Really, Tolin.”

“You can’t be serious,” said the monk, shaking his head. “She knows nothing about the castle’s kitchen. She won’t be able to carry out the task.”

“The mother of the thief?” asked Jarvis. “She is the new head baker?”

“We don’t even know her,” came a comment from the servants.

“She doesn’t belong here,” came another lone voice from the crowd.

“Quiet!” shouted Tolin. “I will not hear another word about it. You will all get to know her quickly. She will take her orders from me, and you will carry out the orders she gives you regarding all the bread and castle’s baked goods. Now get back to work. Everyone. There is a Christmas feast to prepare and I expect it to be up to my high standards.”

Kit found herself so shocked that it took a moment for her to even respond.

“My lord,” she said, her mouth feeling so dry that she could barely swallow. “I need to talk with you.”

“Emeric will show you around the kitchen,” said Tolin.

“But I need to speak to you about this new position.”

“We will talk later. We are already late for Mass.” He looked at his siblings and the monk and nodded. “Let’s go.”

They started to leave the kitchen, and Kit took her son’s hand and followed. Tolin noticed and stopped, turning around slowly.

“Where do you think you are going?”

“To Mass of course,” she told him. “It is Christmas Eve. I will just stop at my room to get my sister first. We’ll collect her husband when we go to the stables.”

“Nay, you won’t. None of you are going to the church. You are staying right here.”