“Did he read and write?”
“Oh aye, and he spoke beautiful Latin, at least that’s what Lady Anne told everyone.”
Merry thought about this for a moment. “If you would consent to it, I would be Father Adal’s bastard. Surely God will not mind, since our cause is just. I read and write too, you see, and thus that would explain it, since he would have taught me. What think you? Will you agree to it?”
“Hmmm, Father Adal came after Lord Garron left, mayhap some five, maybe six years ago. Why not? Lisle, we will see what the girl can do. If she fails, it doesn’t much matter.”
“Thank you. Thank you both.”
“We will tell the others,” said Lisle.
Merry hugged both of them, then rubbed her hands together, her list already clear in her mind.
The girl, Miggins thought, fair to bristled with energy.
She laughed when Merry said, “Now it’s time to begin setting things aright.”
Miggins said, “I’ll bet old Tupper’s last tooth that Mordrid stole Lady Anne’s stockings far before the Retribution came.”
“Who is Mordrid?”
“She was one of Lord Arthur’s lemans, fair to bursting with arrogance, she was. Ah, I shouldna said that.” Miggins shook her head at herself. “She were taken in the Retribution, a bad thing, a terrible thing.”
Merry wanted to know more about the Retribution, but now wasn’t the time. “Miggins, Lisle, gather all the people who are strong enough and bring them here to the great hall. I want to know what each person’s job was before the Black Demon came.”
Twelve women and ten old men stood in front of her, all of them alive, Tupper told her, because they simply fell over and pretended to die and thus the soldiers ignored them and they survived. None of the women were young, Lisle and Miggins the oldest. The girls, Lisle said, crossing herself, grief in her voice, had been ravished and taken by the Demon’s soldiers.
Miggins spoke to the group of pitiful men and women, then pointed to Merry and gave her each name.
9
Merry nodded to each person, repeated each name, and asked all what they could do. There was a lot of experience standing in front of her, thank St. Anthony’s arrow-pierced liver, and faces that were simply too weary and too hungry to much care.
Merry saw some distrust, she wasn’t blind, and surprise on those faces that hadn’t noticed her before. What could she say?
She could but try. She smiled at them. “I know I am a stranger to you. I know you have no reason to trust that I will set everything aright. I know you don’t like to keep silent, for Lord Garron is honorable and just, and he is the new Earl of Wareham, but if you will keep the truth about me to yourselves, if you will but say that I am Father Adal’s byblow, just for a little while, I give you this vow. I will make this great hall clean and help Lord Garron make Wareham prosperous again, if you will give me a chance.”
“Why don’t ye jes’ tell Lord Garron the truth?”
Merry looked at the wizened old man she didn’t really think was all that old. “If I did tell him the truth, he would have to return me to my home. I would be forced to wed a monster. I must stay hidden for a while until—” Until wha
t? She didn’t see how everything could resolve itself in her favor. She drew in a deep breath. “Until the king goes to my home to take charge.”
“Be ye so important the king hisself would stick in his nose?” This from a woman so thin she looked ready to cave in on herself. Ah, but there was a bit of vinegar and wonder in her voice, and Merry smiled.
“Aye, I suppose I am, but no matter. I’m here and I need you to keep silent so I may keep my vow. Until a short time ago, Wareham was a great castle. I believe that all of us can work to make it great again.”
If she managed to succeed, then what would she do? What if the king did indeed stick in his royal nose, what would change? She would still be sold to a stranger, it was the way things were done. She would have no say in the matter. She saw Jason of Brennan in her mind’s eye and felt bile rise in her throat. But her mother wasn’t here. Jason of Brennan wasn’t here. Merry realized in that moment that she felt as much hope as she hoped this pathetic group of people would soon feel.
They were speaking amongst themselves, grumbling, clearly not certain what to do. She said over them, “Listen, all of you are skilled, but you are weak and hungry and everything has looked hopeless for so long, you cannot see anything good happening, but I swear to you, the worst is over. Know that Lord Garron will bring food in a matter of hours, more than enough food for all of us, do not doubt it. I know you cannot imagine that your bellies will ever be filled again, but I swear you’ll be full to bursting by the end of this day. I swear all of you will have some laughter too by the end of this day.” And maybe even some hope, she added silently.
And Merry was certain of that, for when Garron set out to accomplish something, she knew to the soles of Lady Anne’s big slippers that he did it. “Bullic, you assisted old Clerc, the cook who was killed. You will now direct the cooking. Since feeding all of us is the most important task before us, let’s look at the cooking shed first. We want to be able to prepare the game the moment Lord Garron brings it into the keep.
“Keep faith with me, that’s all I ask. Now, I also know you are all weak from hunger, so we will do everything very slowly, and rest often. At the very least, we have water.”
She studied their faces as she stepped back. There was more discussion, some rumblings, but soon even the creaky old men began to nod. She even saw a smile on two faces, and an old man shouted, “Let us do it! Let us make Wareham great again!” There was a weak cheer, but it sounded wonderful to Merry’s ears. Merry felt like shouting to the blackened beams with relief. She looked out over all the people, and saw straighter backs, higher heads, not a surprise really. Now everyone had purpose, they knew they would survive.
As soon as everyone was busy collecting cleaning rags and hobbling brooms together, Merry accompanied Bullic to the cooking shed. The Black Demon had searched for Arthur’s silver coins even here. Crockery was smashed, cooking tables overturned and cleaved with axes. Filth was everywhere. It smelled terrible. Merry assigned Bullic and five other men to find wooden fragments large enough to make spits to cook the game in the huge great hall fireplace. The huge beams overhead were black, she saw, but the flames would kill the smell of rot and grime. She set the women to work inside the cooking shed, mending plates and platters, and cleaning the few cookpots that survived.