The Wretched of Muirwood (Legends of Muirwood 1) - Page 19


Lia’s heart fluttered. Her stomach went sour. She remembered the knight’s warning. If Almaguer comes, do your best to hide him.

As innocently as she could, she asked, “How many shall we cook for, my lord?”

“Tell Pasqua that the retinue is at least twenty men.”

“What does retinue mean?” she asked.

“They are those who owe a noble lord their allegiance. They do his bidding and travel with him. There will be many mouths to feed. I know that Whitsunday is approaching, and she will be loathe to relinquish her stores. If you must, send her to me to discuss it. They should be given our hospitality.”

The sound of footsteps came running down the hall, and the page opened it. His name was Astrid, and he delivered messages for the Aldermaston throughout the grounds. He was ten.

“Riders from the village, Aldermaston!” he gasped “We told them you would greet them in person in due time, but they…they would not wait. My lord, they are riding their mounts on the grounds instead of walking them! One of them asked me… he demanded to know where the kitchen was.”

The Aldermaston surged to his feet, his face livid with anger. “Take me now.”

Lia experienced a sudden bristling rush of panic. Her ears burned hot, her stomach twisting like one of Reome’s wet garments. Her knees became shaky. She nearly dragged the hot pan off the serving table accidentally. It could only mean one thing.

The possibility was now real.

The king’s men had come to search the abbey. What if they were already at the kitchen doors? What if she was too late?

CHAPTER EIGHT:

The Cider Orchard

Worries swirled through Lia’s mind, and most of them ended up in her stomach. When she had decided to hide the young man, she had truly believed she would not be caught doing it. She had faith in her own cleverness, but events unfolded differently than her plans. A single thought blazed in her mind – she had to get the squire out of the kitchen. Pasqua might not be able to climb the loft ladder, but she had no doubts that soldiers could. No one would believe her if she pretended not to know that he was hiding in their midst. She could not begin to imagine the trouble that would hound her then. Where could she hide him though?

Lia rushed. As she turned the corner of the squat, square building, she dreaded that she might have arrived too late.

No horses or soldiers could be seen, but she could hear them. The morning fog hid the sights, but the whinnying of steeds, the jangle of spurs, and voices filled the void. Even the air had a strange smell to it – a coppery scent that clashed with the aroma of flowerbeds and grass.

Hurrying into the kitchen, Lia found Pasqua by the preparing table, mixing something for the mid-day meal. “Soldiers!” she said, gasping. Sowe’s eyes blazed with fear at the words and her face became chalky.

Pasqua looked up irritably. “What nonsense are you talking about, child?”

Lia knew she had to get Pasqua out of the kitchen immediately. “Soldiers from the village. They just arrived. The…the Aldermaston said they are the king’s men. I think one is a nobleman. He wants us to prepare a meal for them.”

“A meal for…? And they just arrived? I have a mind to let them eat uncooked fish. And with Whitsunday coming. Does he realize how long it takes for bread to rise? The nuisance.”

Lia swallowed, straining the hear the sound of hooves approaching in the mist. “The Aldermaston wishes to speak with you, Pasqua. Right away. He just sent me.”

“Right away? Of course right away. Right away and I will blister his ears. Right away and I will shake my spoon at him. Well do not just stand there, girls, get working! Start some soup. That will feed more in a trice. We have some broth already, so cut up some vegetables. Quickly! Quickly!” She bustled out the main door, still grumbling to herself and wiping her hands on her apron as she left.

“Lia?” Sowe said desperately. She trembled with fear.

“Astrid said they were looking for the kitchen,” she said in a loud voice. “We must hide you. Now! Come down.”

“Where?” Sowe begged, clutching Lia’s hands.

The young man emerged from the den of barrels and bags. His face was drawn with worry, but his reflexes were sharp. He bounded down the ladder in a blink. “How many?”

Lia looked him in the eye. “Twenty, I think. No one knows you are here. I have told no one. But if the entire abbey hunts for you, then there is only one place we can hide you. The ruins of the old cemetery. No one is allowed to wander in that part of the grounds where the landslide happened. Only Sowe and I know what is there.”

Tags: Jeff Wheeler Legends of Muirwood Fantasy
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