Talon let his eyes wander. There were tapestries above the sideboard behind him, and in the right corner of the room as he faced the table, a small hearth with another at the far left corner opposite him. Between the two they would provide ample heat for the long dining hall on any but the coldest nights.
Against the far wall another side table waited, and in a moment, Lars entered carrying a huge platter with dressed-out mutton heaped upon it. In what appeared to be controlled frenzy, Meggie and Lela, with several others he had seen in the kitchen whose names were unknown to him, hurried into the room, bearing platters of steaming vegetables, hot breads, pots of condiments and honey, tubs of freshly churned butter, plates with roasted duck, rabbit, and chicken. They would move to the sideboards and place each item, hurry past one another without disturbing anything upon the tables or interfering with what was being carried, and return a moment later with another platter. There were many items of food unlike anything Talon had seen before. Some fruits of strange color and texture were placed alongside familiar apples, pears, and plums.
Then the ale and wine were fetched in, and Lars remained standing opposite Talon on the other side of the table as Meggie went to the left end of the far table and Lela went to the right end of the sideboard behind Talon.
There seemed to be but the merest pause, a moment in which to catch one’s breath, to compose oneself, then the door on the right across from Talon opened and a parade of well-dressed men and women entered.
They filed in, each taking a place at the table, based upon some system of rank, Talon assumed, for a man and woman stood behind the chairs at the end of the table and those who filed in after each took a place, in order. Talon saw this was much like the seating in the men’s long house in his village. The senior chieftain would sit upon the high seat, the one most prominent in the building, with the second most senior chieftain on his right, the third on his left, thus and so forth until every man in the village was in his place. A change in order occurred only when a man above died, so any man in the village might expect to sit in the same place for years.
Last through the door was Kendrick, dressed much as he had been the first time Talon had seen him. His hair and beard looked freshly washed and combed, but his tunic was much the same color, and the trousers and boots were still serviceable. He stepped to the chair before the man at the head of the table and pulled it out.
Talon saw Lars moving to the chair closest to the head of the table and put his hands upon it to pull it out. Talon hesitated only a moment, then moved to his right to the chair closest to the head and mimicked Kendrick’s and Lars’s motions: pulled the chair out with a slight turn, allowing the dinner guest—in the case of Talon’s, a striking woman of middle years with a lavish necklace of emeralds around her neck—to move in and be seated, pushing the chair in slightly as the guest sat. Talon was only a beat behind the others, but he managed the feat without a flaw.
He anticipated his need to move down to the next chair and repeat the action, and quickly all the guests were seated. As Talon returned to his station, he saw Kendrick watching him and Lars move back to stand before his sideboard.
The girls began serving food, and then Lars took up a pitcher of ale and a decanter of wine and moved to the head of the table. Talon hesitated, looked at Kendrick, whose eyes narrowed only in the slightest as he glanced first from Talon to the sideboard, then back to the young man.
Talon duplicated Lars’s movements and was at the side of the man at the head of the table, offering his choice of wine or ale. The man spoke in a heavily accented speech, but the words were Roldemish, and it was clear that in the flurry of witticism and observations, he was instructing Talon to pour the wine. Talon did so, attempting not to drip upon the table or the guest.
He then moved down the row of other guests, quickly filling goblets as instructed.
Once that had been accomplished, the rest of the evening passed without event. Throughout the course of the meal he refilled goblet after goblet, and when his own pitchers and decanters were nearly empty, one of the girls fetched them to the kitchen for a refill.
From Talon’s inexperienced point of view things seem to progress smoothly enough. Near the end of the meal he sought to refill the goblet of the man at the head of the table, who indicated he wished no more by putting his hand briefly over the goblet before him.
Talon had no idea what to say, so he bowed slightly and backed away.
Kendrick stood discreetly behind the head of the table, watching every move of his staff, looking for any need that was going unmet.