Eva couldn’t get the cooks and servants to produce any food that, in her opinion, was worth eating. She had prayed for help not only with the food but also with her father’s health. So when Sir Adam appeared on her doorstep on Christmas Eve, she realized he had to be a sign from God. Aye, perhaps this man was somehow an answer to her prayers. Things had to get better now.
“Sir Adam, you’ll sit next to me at the dais. Your squire will put the goose on the table and then eat below the salt with the others,” she instructed.
“Of course, my lady,” said the handsome Sir Adam, following her up the stairs to the raised platform where the nobility ate. The long table was covered with a white cloth and set for the holidays with plates and goblets made of silver. In front of the plates were candles in jars that were covered with holiday greenery. During the twelve days of Christmas, the nobles made sure that everything was at its best.
The man had dark brown hair and a small mustache and beard. His amazing, bright blue eyes scanned the room, taking in his surroundings like a bird of prey. This knight was alert and aware but, at the same time, his blue orbs seemed to hold many secrets behind them. His brows were thick and craggy. A padded gambeson covered his chest and leather wrist guards and a mail hauberk marked him as a seasoned warrior. For such a cold night, she found it surprising that he didn’t even wear a cape.
“Father, this is Sir Adam de Ware,” she said when they reached the center seat of the dais. “Sir Adam, this is Earl Albert Cavendish. And next to him is my grandmother, Lady Barbara.”
“My lady,” said Adam, taking her grandmother’s hand and kissing it. He bowed at the waist and held one hand behind his back. His half-closed eyes glanced down at her grandmother’s hand and then up to settle on her eyes. Lady Barbara blushed and smiled. He had good manners and was quite charming, even with older women it seemed.
“Nice to meet you, Sir Adam,” said her grandmother, loving the attention.
Next, Adam turned to the earl and bowed again. “Thank you for your hospitality on this cold night, Earl,” said Adam, reaching out to shake her father’s hand.
Her father turned his head and grunted. “Aye,” he mumbled, but said nothing more. Adam moved his hand closer, still waiting for the earl to shake it. Eva held her breath. Her father wouldn’t respond in the expected way because he couldn’t.
“That’s enough!” snapped Eva, not wanting Adam to know of her father’s condition. It was better if he thought the man was just being rude. “Take your seat. The meal will start now.”
Eva didn’t want to sound like a shrew, but she had to say something to stop Adam from asking questions. Since her father’s fall from his horse six months ago, he no longer had control over the right side of his body. This was her family’s secret and Eva would do anything to keep it from others. She especially didn’t want the king to know her father was no longer capable of serving him. Never again would the earl be able to fight for King Edward, let alone rule his own castle. A secret like this being revealed could ruin her father as well as her family name.
It was no secret that Eva was thought of by everyone as cruel and cold-hearted, but she no longer cared. Ever since the death of her mother, she had closed herself off to others and kept her feelings and thoughts locked away deep inside her. It was easier that way. Eva didn’t deal well with death. Her siblings having died through the years only hampered instead of helped her overcome her fear of losing those she loved. She had to be strong, she told herself, never showing how vulnerable she really was in this kind of situation. Aye, she had to be there to support her family, and she would be until the day she died. Eva didn’t want to lose her father because he meant the world to her.
Eva also didn’t want Cavendish Castle to be taken from her family. This was her home and had been for her entire life. There were many memories, both good and bad, within these stone walls. To think of possibly losing it all scared her out of her mind.
Only the healer and her grandmother knew her father’s awful secret. Together, they devised the story that his leg was temporarily broken and the healer had put a splint on it. Actually, it had been broken, but was healed months ago. Prolonging it was really a ploy because her father could no longer walk. The blacksmith added wheels to the earl’s chair so they could push him around.
Aye, Eva had done whatever she could to keep quiet the fact that her father was no longer an able-bodied man. The earl would never again be able to use his sword arm according to the healer. Lately, his speech had become quite slurred, and he sometimes acted worse than the court fool. Eva normally told everyone he was well in his cups trying to combat the pain from his leg that refused to heal. But after six months now, people were starting to ask questions. These were questions she would never be able to answer without revealing the truth.
“Sir Adam,” she said, cutting off pieces of the goose and laying them on her father’s trencher. “Tell me, how is it that a knight knows how to cook?”
Adam watched the woman hack away at the goose, her actions about causing him to cry out. She didn’t know how to handle a knife, nor did she respect the bird that was to be their meal. “Allow me, my lady,” he said, taking the knife and serving spoon from her and cutting the meat in a proper way.
“Thank you, Sir Knight,” she said, through her teeth. “However, I am capable of doing that myself.” She tried to grab the knife back from him, but he stood up and pulled the platter toward him.
“I’m surprised you don’t have your servants do this.” Adam looked up to see her grandmother handing a goblet of wine to her father. The earl took it with his left hand. Something was odd about the man but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it yet.
“You were going to tell me how you know how to cook such a delectable, tasty goose,” Eva said, taking his attention, even though he’d yet to say a word about it.
“Well, if you must know, I learned as a child.” He placed some food on her plate and she eagerly dove in to eat it. “I grew up being raised by a nursemaid since my mother was sickly and died shortly after I was born.”
“Aye, my mother died, too, five years ago,” she said, turning the conversation to her even though she had asked about him.
“I am sorry to hear that.” Adam cut another piece of meat and held it out to the earl. “May I have your plate, Earl?” he asked. The man looked over at him and scowled.
“Here you are.” Eva quickly picked up her father’s plate and held it out to Adam. After she put it down in front of the man, she picked up an eating spoon and handed it to her father. Once again, the man took it with his left hand.
“Oh, I see your father is left-handed,” said Adam, placing food on his own plate.
“Nay, he’s not,” she said taking another bite of goose. Then her eyes opened wide and she glanced at the earl and then him. She cleared her throat and put down her spoon. “I mean, my father thinks it’s important to be able to use both hands just as accurately so he purposely uses his left hand to make it stronger.”
“I see.” Adam sat back down to eat his food. “Getting back to my story, I spent a lot of time in the kitchen. You see, the nursemaid was having an affair with the stablemaster and left me with the cooks most of the time. I didn’t mind because I liked to eat . . . just like you do.”
She stopped chewing and released her spoon. Folding her hands on her lap, she threw him an icy stare. “I don’t eat any more or less than any other lady. What is it you are trying to say, Sir Adam?”
“I only meant that I am pleased the goose is to your liking. I heard that you were looking for a good cook and that is why I brought it.” He’d heard no such thing but thought he’d take the chance that it might be true. He needed a reason to stay here and, hopefully, this would work to his advantage.
“Aye. I am looking for a good cook,” she admitted. “Ever since my mother died, the staff seems to be serving tasteless and often rancid food. If my father’s leg is going to heal, he needs nourishment and food that is ta
sty and properly cooked.”
“What happened to him?” asked Adam, scooping up some stewed root vegetables and taking a bite. He almost gagged. The food was horrible, she wasn’t jesting. He quickly washed it down with a swig of ale.
“My father broke his leg when he was thrown from a horse. He’ll be better soon and will be up and walking again, so there is no need to worry.”
Adam eyed the man’s leg under the table that stuck out straight and was wrapped in a splint. He also noticed wheels on the chair. “I wasn’t worried, but it seems as if you are.” He watched for her reaction. Her jaw became tight and she sat up straight. “How long has his leg been in a splint?”
“It doesn’t matter,” she retorted.
A messenger boy ran up with a missive in his hand and bowed. “Good earl, a messenger of the king is here to see you.”
“What do mean?” Eva’s head snapped up.
“Here he comes now,” said Adam, spying the messenger of the king walk in and stop at the foot of the table.
“Earl Cavendish, the king has sent this message.” He held out the missive with two hands but the earl did nothing to take it.
“His leg is broken and he can’t reach that far, you fool,” snapped Eva, reaching across the table. “Give it to me.”
“Nay, allow me,” said Adam, jumping up and reaching over her to snatch the missive from the boy.
“Sir Adam! What are you doing here?” asked the boy, recognizing him from usually being at the king’s side.
“Shhh,” said Adam, shaking his head to tell the boy to remain quiet. “Thank you, you are dismissed,” he said, sending the boy away.
“Give me that.” Eva’s hand shot out. But before she could get the missive, Adam reached over her and handed it to the earl. “Here you go, Earl.”
The man looked up but didn’t take it. “I’m eating now,” he grumbled.
“My father’s hands are greasy. I’ll read it for him.” Eva tried once again to get the parchment from him but Adam quickly opened it instead.
“Allow me to read it for you, Earl Cavendish.” He managed to scan the contents of the missive before Eva pulled it out of his hand.
“How dare you suppose you have the right to read a missive that was sent to my father from the king.”
“What does it say?” asked the earl, not turning his head at all when he spoke.
Eva scanned the contents and shoved the missive into a pouch hanging from her side. “We’ll talk about it later, Father.”
Adam wanted to say something, but decided to remain quiet. After the meal, the servants began to clear away the tables for dancing while the musicians tuned up their lutes, harps and even a hurdy-gurdy.
“Here ye, here ye,” called out the herald getting everyone’s attention. “Now, Jameson, who has been named the Lord of Misrule, will take over with running the Christmas festivities.” A young boy of about four and ten years of age stepped forward and bowed to the crowd.
“Lord of Misrule?” Adam chuckled. “It seems as if you’ll have a wild celebration on your hands now, my lady.” Adam was familiar with the tradition. By chance, the Lord of Misrule was chosen by who found a bean hidden in their cake. His title during the holidays made him not only in charge of the games but also able to rule during the Christmastide festivities. He could make anyone do anything he wanted. Therefore, a peasant could be ordered to act like a noble and a noble might end up in the scullery for the night. But most of the directions from the Lord of Misrule had to do with drinking games.
“Jameson is the son of one our knights and also a page,” Eva told him. “He was chosen by luck of the draw, but I am sure he can be trusted. I specifically warned him not to do anything that would cause embarrassment to any of the nobles.”
“But that’s not the way it works,” protested Adam. “It seems to me, you have taken away control from the Lord of Misrule as well as from your father in ruling his castle. Why is that, my lady?”
Eva scowled and threw her nose in the air. “You know nothing, Sir Adam, and I don’t like your attitude. I will allow you to stay the night in the castle since you brought me the goose. However, in the morning, you and your squire will leave anon.”
“I see,” he said, eying the Lord of Misrule who was laughing and ordering some of the men to chug down ale while dancing with the women. “I apologize if I insulted you. May I beg your forgiveness and ask for one dance tonight before I see to the road in the morning?”
She hesitated a minute as if she were giving it some thought. Her eyes settled on the goose and she made her decision. “I suppose one dance is all right, but no more.”
“Of course, my lady, just one,” he answered with a bow.
“Let me tend to my father first and I’ll be right with you.”
Adam hurried over to talk to his squire before Eva returned. “Bryce,” he said, calling him over.
“Aye, my lord?” asked Bryce, chewing on a sweet meat as he joined him.
“Lady Eva is sending us away in the morning and I can’t have that. So I have something I need you to do.” He dug into his pocket and pulled out a gold crown. “Here, give this to the Lord of Misrule,” he instructed.
“What for?” Bryce held up the coin to survey it. “This is quite a sum.”
“Give him the message that I want him to send me to work in the kitchen as a cook through Twelfth Night.”
“Twelfth Night? But that means you’d be a cook for the entire twelve days of Christmas.” Bryce laughed heartily. “You must be jesting.”
“Nay, I mean it. I need a reason to stay here so I can complete my mission. Since the Lord of Misrule can order anyone to do anything during his reign, this is perfect. Lady Eva won’t be able to send me away after all.”
“Makes sense. All right, I’ll do it.” Bryce flipped the coin in the air and Adam snatched it away.
“Don’t do that.” Adam scanned the room, hoping no one saw his squire flipping the gold coin. “Tell the Lord of Misrule that this money is also to keep him quiet. He is to tell no one that I requested him to make me a cook. Do you understand? I don’t want Lady Eva to know.”
“I understand, my lord. I’ll go right away.”
“Good.” Adam slapped the coin back into the squire’s hand just as Eva headed in his direction. “One more thing,” he told Bryce in a low voice.
“What is it, my lord?”
“Get the Lord of Misrule to also order Lady Eva to kiss me under the mistletoe.”
Bryce chuckled. “She won’t like that.”
“She won’t like the idea, but I assure you she is going to love being kissed by me. Now hurry, here she comes.”
“As you say.” Bryce left just as Lady Eva approached.
“My father will need me in his solar, so let’s make this a quick dance,” she told him.
“My lady.” Adam bowed and held out his arm as the music started. Gently laying her hand atop his arm, they proceeded to dance.
“Do tell me more about your father,” said Adam, trying to gain information as well as to break the silence between them.
“I don’t care to talk about my father and I would appreciate it if you stopped asking me questions.” The song ended and she pulled away. “You and your squire can sleep in the great hall tonight but come first light, I want both of you gone.”
Adam was about to say something else to keep her from leaving when the Lord of Misrule jumped atop a bench and held up his hand.
“Here ye, here ye, the Lord of Misrule speaks,” called out the boy.
“Good night, Sir Adam.” Lady Eva turned to go. But when she heard the Lord of Misrule’s announcement, she stopped dead in her tracks.
“I command Lady Eva to kiss the visiting Sir Adam de Ware under the mistletoe,” said the boy.
Lady Eva spun around in surprise to find the crowd watching her, smiling and laughing. The fool, Sir Adam, stepped under one of the kissing boughs and looked at her, shrugging his shoulders.
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��Nay,” she said, shaking her head. She couldn’t kiss a stranger, especially in front of everyone.
“My lady, the Lord of Misrule has given us a command,” Sir Adam told her. “Isn’t it true that during these twelve days of Christmas, the Lord of Misrule can order nobles as well as peasants to do what he wants and no one can object?”
“Well, yes, but this is different,” she answered.
“How so?” yelled someone from the crowd.
“I’m Lady of the Castle,” she said, feeling very uncomfortable.
“I’m a noble, too,” a knight called out. “And yet the Lord of Misrule has commanded me to give up my seat at the dais to a servant.”
“I was told to clean out the stable,” said someone else.
“If you don’t kiss Sir Adam, then we shouldn’t have to do what the Lord of Misrule tells us either,” came the voice of a brave woman from the crowd.
Lady Eva didn’t want trouble. Everyone knew that during these twelve days of Christmas, the Lord of Misrule was in charge. If she backed out, so would everyone else. Then there would be trouble and her father would be summoned to handle it all. She didn’t want her father in that position. He couldn’t hold his court in his condition because, if so, he would be exposed. She had no choice other than to kiss the knight after all.
“Fine,” she spat, picking up the hem of her gown and trudging through the rushes to make her way to the man. She stopped in front of him and looked up. The kissing bough hung directly over Sir Adam’s head.
It was a custom for men and women to steal kisses from each other under the bough during the Christmas season. There were at least a dozen of these orbs hanging from the rafters. The kissing boughs were constructed from metal frames bent into the shapes of globes. Attached to each was greenery that included pine boughs, holly, and mistletoe. If it hadn’t been unlucky to bring ivy inside, that winter greenery would have been added as well. Apples were hung from the bottoms of the pieces. Around the tops of the spheres were lit beeswax candles. The structures were actually quite large.
Merry Medieval Christmas Page 2