“I am indeed, and think nothing of it. I get rather lonely up on the hill at night all by myself with all those empty rooms. You hear every sound at night, you know. The wind slapping a shutter, the creak of rafters—it can be quite unnerving. Now at least I can blame the noises I hear on your horses. Being way down in the stables, I doubt I could hear them, but I can pretend, can’t I?” The deacon chuckled to himself. “But honestly, it can be miserable up there. I’m used to being with people, and the isolation of the manor house is such a burden,” he said while heaping his plate full of mutton.
“It must be awful for you. But I’ll bet there is good food. Those nobles really know how to fill a storehouse, don’t they?”
“Well, yes, of course,” the deacon replied. “As a matter of fact, the margrave had put by a remarkable amount of smoked meats, not to mention ale and wine, but I only take what I need, of course.”
“Of course,” Hadrian agreed. “Just looking at you, I can tell that you’re not the kind of man to take advantage of a situation. Did you supply the ale for the funeral?”
“Oh no,” the deacon replied, aghast. “I wouldn’t dare pillage the manor house like that. Like you just said, I am not the kind of man to take advantage of a situation and it’s not my stores to give, now is it?”
“I see.”
“Oh my, look at the cheese,” said the deacon, scooping up a wedge and shoving it in his mouth. “Have to admit one thing,” he spoke with his mouth full, “Dahlgren can really throw a funeral.”
When they reached the end of the tables, Hadrian looked for a place to sit. The few benches were filled with folks eating off their laps.
“Up, you kids!” the deacon shouted at Tad and Pearl. “You don’t need to be taking up a bench. Go sit on the grass.” They frowned but got up. “You there, Hadrian is it? Come sit here and tell me what brings a man who owns a horse and three swords to Dahlgren. I trust you aren’t noble or you’d have knocked on my door last night.”
“No, I’m not a noble, but that brings up a question. How did you inherit the manor house?”
“Hmm? Inherit? Oh, I didn’t inherit anything. It is merely my station as a public servant to help in a crisis like this. When the margrave and his men died, I knew I had to administer to this troubled flock and watch after the king’s interests. So I endure the hardships and do what I can.”
“Like what?”
“What’s that?” the deacon asked, tearing into a piece of mutton, which left his lips and cheeks shiny with grease.
“What have you done to help?”
“Oh—well, let’s see … I keep the house clean, the yard maintained, and the garden watered. You really have to keep after those weeds, you know, or the whole garden would be swallowed up and not a single vegetable would survive. And oh—the toll it takes on my back. I’ve never had what you would call a good back as it is.”
“I meant about the attacks. What steps have you taken to safeguard the village?”
“Well now,” the deacon said, chuckling, “I’m a cleric, not a knight. I don’t even know how to hold a sword properly and I don’t have an army of knights at my disposal, do I? So aside from diligent prayer, I’m not in a position where I can really do anything about that.”
“Have you considered letting the villagers stay in the manor at night? Whatever this creature is, it doesn’t have much trouble with thatched roofs, but the manor has what looks to be a sturdy roof and some thick walls.”
The deacon shook his head, still smiling at Hadrian as an adult might look at a child who just asked why there must be poor people in the world. “No, no, that wouldn’t do at all. I am quite certain the next lord of the house would not appreciate having a whole village taking over his home.”
“But you are aware that the responsibility of a lord is to protect his subjects? That is why his subjects pay him a tax. If the lord isn’t willing to protect them, why should they honor him with money, crops, or even respect?”
“You might not have noticed,” the deacon replied, “but we are between lords at the moment.”
“So then, you don’t intend to continue taxing these people for the time they are without protection?”
“Well, I didn’t mean that—”
“So you do intend to uphold the responsibility of a steward?”
“Well, I—”
“Now, I can understand your hesitation to overstep your authority and open the manor house to the village, so I am certain you’ll want to take the other option.”
“Other option?” The cleric was holding another slice of mutton to his mouth but sat too distracted to bite.
“Yes, as steward and acting lord, it falls on you to protect this village in his stead, and since inviting them into the house at night is out of the question, then I presume you’ll be taking to the field to fight the beast.”
“Fight it?” He dropped the mutton on his lap. “I don’t think—”