Supper passed uneventfully. After the kitchen had been cleaned and the bread readied for baking in the morning, Talon was about to retire to the room he shared with Lars and Gibbs when Lela approached him. “Don’t go to your room yet,” she said in a whisper. She put her hand upon his arm and led him to the pantry between the common room and the dining room. She pushed the door to the common room slightly ajar.
Gibbs was sitting quietly before the hearth, staring into the dying embers as he nursed a mug of ale. Lela closed the door, a mischievous smile in place. “Lars needs the room for a while.’’
“For what?” asked Talon.
Her eyes widened, and she giggled. “For what? You don’t know?’’
He frowned. “If I knew, would I ask?’’
She playfully put her hand on his stomach and gave him a gentle push. “He and Meggie are there.’’
Talon said, “Why?” Then before she could answer, he realized. “They need to be alone?” he asked.
“Of course, you fool!” she said playfully.
“With my people it is different,” he explained. “We live in community buildings during the winter, and often a man and woman will lie together under bearskins. Everyone else pretends not to notice.’’
“Around here we notice,” she said. Looking at him with a glimmer in her eye, she said, “You look troubled. What is it?’’
Talon’s mind returned to Meggie’s quirky smile and upturned nose, and the way her thin frame swayed slightly when she walked. At last he said, “I don’t know.’’
Suddenly, Lela’s eyes widened. “You’re jealous!’’
Talon said, “I don’t know that word.’’
“You want Meggie for yourself!” she said with a merry laugh.
Suddenly Talon’s face was flushed, and he wanted to be just about anywhere else. “I don’t know what you mean,” he stammered.
Lela gave the boy an appraising look for a long minute Then she said, “You’re turning into a handsome young man, Talon.” She put her arms around his waist and pressed closer, her face just in front of his. “Have you known a woman before?’’
Talon felt his pulse race and found himself speechless. Eventually, he shook his head.
Lela laughed and thrust herself away from him. “You are such a boy.’’
Abruptly, Talon found himself angry. For some reason the remark stung, and he almost shouted, “No, I am a man of the Orosini! I went upon my vision quest and . . .” He paused. “I would have had my manhood tattoos upon my face had my family not been killed.’’
Lela’s expression softened, and she stepped back toward him. “I’m sorry. I forgot.’’
His anger soon fled as she pressed herself against him and kissed him, her soft, warm lips causing stirrings that threatened to overpower him. He grabbed her hard, and pulled her into him, eliciting a squeak of protest. She pushed him back slightly, and said, “Gently.”
Talon blinked in confusion, his mind swimming in feelings he could put no name to; he ached to pull her back into an embrace.
She grinned. “You know nothing of the game of women and men.’’
“Game?”
She took him by the hand. “I’ve seen those games Robert and Magnus have taught you. Now I think it’s time to teach you the best game of all.’’
Feeling fearful and flushed with anticipation, Talon clung to Lela’s hand as she led him through the common room toward the room she shared with Meggie.
Seeing what was transpiring, Gibbs grinned and hoisted his ale-jack in salute. As they climbed the stairs to the now-empty guest rooms, he said, “Got to get another girl working here; that’s all there is for it.’’
Lacking any other comfort, he elected for one more ale before finding a place for himself for the night.
JOURNEY
Talon sneezed.
“Too much pepper,” said Leo.
Talon wiped away the tears in his eyes with the hem of his apron and nodded. He had been working in the kitchen for a year, and over the last four months had come to feel at home there. He still served elsewhere at Kendrick’s discretion, but most of his time recently had been spent with the cook.
Four months earlier Leo had walked in one day and beckoned Talon to his side, showing him how to prepare dishes for baking pies, a simple task involving lard and wheat flour. From there he had moved on to washing vegetables and fruits. He then worked his way up to preparing simple dishes. In the last few weeks, Talon had learned the basics of baking and cooking meats, and was now being trained in how to make sauces.
Talon smiled.
“What’s amusing you, young fellow?” asked Leo.
“I was just thinking how much more there is to getting food ready to eat than what I learned as a boy. My father and the other men of my village would sit around a large spit upon which a deer turned, talking about the hunt or crops or which son was the fastest runner, and the women baked bread or cooked stews or soup.
“My mother would have gawked in wonder at the spices in your cupboard, Leo.’’
“Simple fare can be challenging, too, Talon. A spit of beef must be dusted lightly with salt and pepper at the right moment, then graced, perhaps, with a kiss of garlic just before presentation.”