Page 71 of Lord of Misrule

“It was a command from the Bean King,” he explained.

“You’re the Bean King, Tolin,” she said, thinking he had gone mad. “If you wanted to join me for a meal, then just admit it.”

“You are right, I did want to join you for a meal,” he told her. “However, this was all initiated by your son.”

“I don’t understand. What does that mean and where is Parker? He needs to sit down and eat his meal.”

“Oh, he is, I assure you. Come and see.” He took her to the door that led to the great hall.

“Where is he?” Kit looked around the hall, but didn’t see her son at the tables with the commoners.

“He’s there. You are just looking in the wrong direction.” Tolin took her chin in his hand and slowly turned it toward the dais.

Her mouth dropped open. “Parker is in your seat? I’m sorry, I’ll remove him at once.” She took a step forward, but he grabbed her arm and spun her around.

“Nay, you don’t understand. I gave the bean to him. He is the Lord of Misrule now, and has ordered me to eat in the kitchen with you.”

“Really.” Her eyes went back to her son at the dais, looking so small sitting in the lord’s big chair. Parker looked up and waved to her, Tolin’s silver goblet in his hand. Then King’s head appeared above the table and the boy handed the dog a big piece of meat. “You are telling the truth, aren’t you?” she asked Tolin.

“I am. And I’m also looking forward to having a meal with you. I’m sorry I didn’t command myself to do this sooner, when I was the Lord of Misrule.”

“Please,” she said, feeling her face blush. “You would never purposely eat in the kitchen with a servant.”

“I would if she were you.” He reached out and took her hand and she let him take it. “Let’s go back to the kitchen and have some food. If I stand here any longer the boy might have me washing dishes next. I assure you that is a job I would not like in the least.”

Kit smiled, feeling happy about this new turn of events. “Let me show you where the servants eat.” She led him to the table and they both sat.

“I can’t wait for some lamb. And I’ve been salivating all night smelling the aroma of that freshly baked herb bread.”

“I hate to disappoint you, but the white bread is for the nobles only. Also, there wasn’t an abundance of lamb so we’ll probably end up with pottage and boiled cabbage instead. Most of the best food goes to the dais. We get the rest. Here, have a piece of rye bread.” She picked up a loaf of the brown bread, ripping off a piece and handing it to him.

“Oh, thank you,” he said, accepting the bread, staring at it looking like he’d lost his best friend. “What about the braised pork or the stewed rabbit?” His head turned as his eyes followed a serving wench with a tray full of the Christmas food. “Or the venison in a savory herb gravy? That is one of my favorite meals during the holidays.”

“Don’t get your hopes up. The kitchen servants eat last out of everyone, and that crowd is hungry from waiting so long. If we’re lucky we might get some eel or sausage and bacon with beans. However, my guess is we’ll most likely have to settle for umble pie,” she told him, talking about the pie made from the entrails of animals that were leftover on the butcher’s block. “Have you ever had it before? I can’t say it is really tasty, but it fills an empty belly.”

Tolin sighed. “Nay, I can’t say that I have.”

“Oh, I just remembered something.” Kit snapped her fingers. “I believe today is the day when the peasants come to your gate to get their umble pies for their families.”

“I suppose it is.”

“Well, I am sure they’ve been waiting for hours since the meal has started so late.”

“I didn’t let anyone eat until Brenna had her baby.” Tolin popped the whole piece of rye bread into his mouth at once and chewed.

“Why not?” she asked him.

“I did it for you, Kit. To show you that I care.” He swallowed forcefully, grabbing a tankard of ale off a server’s tray and taking a big swig to wash down the coarse bread.

“Then you’ll want to show how much you care about the peasants as well, won’t you?”

“What do you mean?” His eyes fastened to a tray of sweetmeats that went out the door next with a server heading for the dais. He looked so hungry that Kit almost felt bad about it. Almost, but not quite. Parker being the Lord of Misrule was going to work out in her favor and that is something that pleased her immensely.

“Come with me,” she told him. “Be sure to bring your cloak.”

“My cloak? Why?” he asked, following her. “We are going to eat now, aren’t we?”

“Nay. Not until we hand out all the umble pies to the peasants who have been waiting at your gate in the cold for hours now. Grab a tray, my lord. We have a lot of work to do. We will be lucky to get any food to eat at all tonight, since this will be a lengthy task. There are many beggars and peasants waiting, and we don’t want to disappoint them or let them go home hungry.”