A sound came from inside, Roki's breath caught in his throat, his eyes wider as his lips set to easy smile.
The door came open, and it was Ilani there. "Oh," he said deflating some. "Right, well," he scratched at the back of his head, his eyes wandered about the door, the wall the floor as his face flushed.
A few other squires were in the hallway. Whispering something or the other to each other. Snickered behind their hands.
Damn. He had already embarrassed her enough today, hadn't he?
Rabbit had some practice... she asked me to give you this...
"Oh!" he replied, shooting up bolt straight. His hand eagerly grabbed for the little note.
If you will excuse me...
"Yeah, right, right!" he stated. "Um, thanks, Ilani," he said awkwardly. "See you in thaumaturgy class tomorow," he said absently.
The door shut quietly. He heard giggles coming from inside. He cleared his throat and turned on his heel. His deft fingers worked the paper open as he stepped across the hall. Ruthiford, barnhouse that he was, was stompin toward him. Roki spun around him with quick feet. "Ruthi,"
"Rook," the big squire said with a nod.
"You pullin Knoll duty tonight?" Roki asked.
"Hmm, yup,"
"Ace," Roki said with a wink as he walked backwards.
Ruthiford, lookin over his shoulder, chuckled, and gave him a big thumbs up. "See you then,"
When Roki turned about, there was a sworn standing before him. Thinly mustached. Angular features and cold sharp eyes. "Squire Roki," he drew the words out like a dagger.
Roki gulped down some spit. "Pursuant Edelbert,"
Edlebert's lips spread into a thin smile. "I presume you understand why I am here... wasting my time... in the squire's quarters?"
Roki smiled nervously, fingers twidling nervously with the little piece of paper. "Contraband inspection?"
Edelbert almost laughed. Almost. He huffed instead. "Oh, more like a Contraband Review, squire," he turned about and stepped down the hall. "Come along then,"
"Damn," Roki cursed. He looked down at the paper, and tucked it into his jacket pocket.
Hours later, Roki would be pulling kitchen duty, alongside Ruthiford. It was getting close to the end of afternoon sessions, and the supper rush was about to come rushing in.
Lucky for them, the gardens had a good yield lately, and the rangers had brought back a good many grouse, and pheasants as of late. The big game birds had been processed, and were salted and spiced. Ruthiford was stuffin em with roots and old bread.
Roki was grumpily stirring a pot of stew, full of tubers and root vegetables.
Syr Melga oversaw the operation. "Go on, Ronken, just keep churnin the butter! We'll need plenty more of it!"
Ronken sighed and went on with the churning. "Yes, chef."
"Roki!" she called out. "How is the stew?"
Roki didn't hear her.
"Roki!" she called out once more.
Squire Piplin, a halfling with bright green eyes and a dusting of ruddy frckles across her moon face, elbowed Roki as she walked by with a board loaded with biscuits.
"Oh! Oh!" Roki called out. "Um, the stew," he stirred it faster. Looked down on it. Saw its thick golden broth-near-gravy was a little darker than he'd like. "Shit," he cursed. Took the spoon and sipped some of the liquid up. Flavors were fine. Just...
Melga was already beside him. "Roki," she said coldly. "What is that?"
Roki stammered. Sighed. "It's... over cooked,"
Melga squint. "Take it off the fire, squire, and go take a walk," she sighed, and shook her head.
"Yes chef," he went to grab the big black iron pot with his bare hand. Felt the harsh sting of scalding metal. Sucked in air through his teeth and recoiled.
"Roki, what in the-" Melga said as she turned around.
Roki was already moving to grab it again.
"Stop!" she put her hand infront of him, and with the other she pointed to the door. "Go, now. Get your head on right,"
Roki's eyes were large. Half mixed with anger and shame. He shook it off. Nod, and made to exit the kitchen.
"And go see the medic about your hand!" Syr Melga called out.
Fat chance.
Mara Tillerman
The door came open, and it was Ilani there. "Oh," he said deflating some. "Right, well," he scratched at the back of his head, his eyes wandered about the door, the wall the floor as his face flushed.
A few other squires were in the hallway. Whispering something or the other to each other. Snickered behind their hands.
Damn. He had already embarrassed her enough today, hadn't he?
Rabbit had some practice... she asked me to give you this...
"Oh!" he replied, shooting up bolt straight. His hand eagerly grabbed for the little note.
If you will excuse me...
"Yeah, right, right!" he stated. "Um, thanks, Ilani," he said awkwardly. "See you in thaumaturgy class tomorow," he said absently.
The door shut quietly. He heard giggles coming from inside. He cleared his throat and turned on his heel. His deft fingers worked the paper open as he stepped across the hall. Ruthiford, barnhouse that he was, was stompin toward him. Roki spun around him with quick feet. "Ruthi,"
"Rook," the big squire said with a nod.
"You pullin Knoll duty tonight?" Roki asked.
"Hmm, yup,"
"Ace," Roki said with a wink as he walked backwards.
Ruthiford, lookin over his shoulder, chuckled, and gave him a big thumbs up. "See you then,"
When Roki turned about, there was a sworn standing before him. Thinly mustached. Angular features and cold sharp eyes. "Squire Roki," he drew the words out like a dagger.
Roki gulped down some spit. "Pursuant Edelbert,"
Edlebert's lips spread into a thin smile. "I presume you understand why I am here... wasting my time... in the squire's quarters?"
Roki smiled nervously, fingers twidling nervously with the little piece of paper. "Contraband inspection?"
Edelbert almost laughed. Almost. He huffed instead. "Oh, more like a Contraband Review, squire," he turned about and stepped down the hall. "Come along then,"
"Damn," Roki cursed. He looked down at the paper, and tucked it into his jacket pocket.
Hours later, Roki would be pulling kitchen duty, alongside Ruthiford. It was getting close to the end of afternoon sessions, and the supper rush was about to come rushing in.
Lucky for them, the gardens had a good yield lately, and the rangers had brought back a good many grouse, and pheasants as of late. The big game birds had been processed, and were salted and spiced. Ruthiford was stuffin em with roots and old bread.
Roki was grumpily stirring a pot of stew, full of tubers and root vegetables.
Syr Melga oversaw the operation. "Go on, Ronken, just keep churnin the butter! We'll need plenty more of it!"
Ronken sighed and went on with the churning. "Yes, chef."
"Roki!" she called out. "How is the stew?"
Roki didn't hear her.
"Roki!" she called out once more.
Squire Piplin, a halfling with bright green eyes and a dusting of ruddy frckles across her moon face, elbowed Roki as she walked by with a board loaded with biscuits.
"Oh! Oh!" Roki called out. "Um, the stew," he stirred it faster. Looked down on it. Saw its thick golden broth-near-gravy was a little darker than he'd like. "Shit," he cursed. Took the spoon and sipped some of the liquid up. Flavors were fine. Just...
Melga was already beside him. "Roki," she said coldly. "What is that?"
Roki stammered. Sighed. "It's... over cooked,"
Melga squint. "Take it off the fire, squire, and go take a walk," she sighed, and shook her head.
"Yes chef," he went to grab the big black iron pot with his bare hand. Felt the harsh sting of scalding metal. Sucked in air through his teeth and recoiled.
"Roki, what in the-" Melga said as she turned around.
Roki was already moving to grab it again.
"Stop!" she put her hand infront of him, and with the other she pointed to the door. "Go, now. Get your head on right,"
Roki's eyes were large. Half mixed with anger and shame. He shook it off. Nod, and made to exit the kitchen.
"And go see the medic about your hand!" Syr Melga called out.
Fat chance.
Mara Tillerman