Merry Medieval Christmas

by Elizabeth Rose et al.

  * * *

  “Eva, where have you been?” asked Lady Barbara when Eva finally returned to her father’s solar. The healer was there, tending to her father. “I thought you were going to be here an hour ago.”

  “I’m sorry, Grandmother. I got caught up with some details and I apologize that I’m late.”

  “Your father has taken a turn for the worse.”

  “Nay!” She rushed over to the bed and grabbed her father’s hand in hers. “What’s happened?” she asked the healer.

  “Lord Albert has taken ill with a fever. He is talking nonsense and hasn’t opened his eyes but a few times all morning,” said the healer. “I’m going to use leeches to suck out any infection.” The man took a jar out of his bag and held it up. Inside were blood-sucking leeches stuck to the inside of the jar.

  “I cannot stay here and watch this.” Holding a hand to her stomach, Eva headed back to the door.

  “Eva, wait!” Lady Barbara used her cane as she hobbled across the floor. “What about the missive?” she whispered, looking over her shoulder to see if the healer had heard her.

  “I’ll write it later,” she said, feeling her stomach rumble. “I have to meet with the reeve since it is Quarter Day. All the rents are due and need to be collected from the tenants. I also need to oversee the decorating of the great hall for the Christmastide festivities. After that, I’ll go to mass and then join you at the Christmas feast. I hope Father will be able to sit at the dais today.”

  “He’s ill and shouldn’t be moved,” said the healer.

  “You went to mass last night,” her grandmother reminded her. “Surely, you don’t need to go again today.”

  “It is Christmas Day,” snapped Eva, feeling the stress of the situation upon her. “Father needs to be sitting at the dais or there are going to be wagging tongues plus more questions from Sir Adam that I don’t want to answer. Healer, do what you have to do in order to make him well enough to participate at the meal today.”

  “Aye, my lady,” said the healer, placing the leeches onto her father’s arms and legs.

  Feeling sick, Eva turned and started out the door.

  “You never told me why you are going to mass again,” said her grandmother.

  “I feel the need,” Eva answered, thinking about the improper dream she had about coupling with Sir Adam last night. When he kissed her again today in the larder, she had to slap him. If not, she would have been lifting her skirts herself to live out the dream. Aye, she needed to go to mass again as well as confession. And most of all, she needed to stay far away from Sir Adam de Ware.

  * * *

  “Take the Boar’s Head and Brawn up to the dais,” Adam instructed the servants later that day. “Make sure the courses follow quickly as Lady Eva likes to eat and I don’t want her to have to wait for the food.”

  “Aye, my lord,” answered one of the servants.

  Adam picked up the platter containing his secret weapon and headed directly over to Lady Eva who was at the dais, leaning over and talking to her father. Her grandmother was at the earl’s other side and looked upset about something.

  The herald blared out a few notes on his straight trumpet and the musicians joined in with a royal tune. The Christmas procession of food was brought into the room. Adam looked down to the roasted partridge with pears and smiled. He had outdone himself once again. Even he was salivating at the wonderful aromas. Picking up the platter, he brought his offering into the great hall.

  * * *

  “My lady.”

  Eva looked up to see Adam approaching the dais with a covered platter in his hands. She quickly placed the goblet in her father’s left hand and turned around to face Adam.

  “Sir Adam. What have you got there?”

  “I’m sure you’ve already seen the Christmas Boar’s Head and Brawn.” He nodded toward the platter with the boar’s head that graced the table. It had a baked apple in its mouth and cloves made up its eyes.

  “Aye, you did a wonderful job. The Christmas Boar looks and smells delicious.”

  “I’ve also made venison in a rich sauce, rabbit stew, and a variety of braised vegetables. But my biggest surprise for you is this.” He laid the platter down right in front of Eva and opened the lid. Surprised gasps went up from the table.

  “Sir Adam, what is it?” she asked, eying up the monstrosity.

  “It is partridge with pears in a robust wine sauce infused with plump mulberries and spicy ginger, my lady. I have roasted the partridge on a spit, rubbing it gently in its own juices mixed with a variety of herbs. Then, for the occasion, I dressed up the partridge to look like a knight.”

  “Aye, you have,” she said with a giggle. The partridge sat upright on the platter with a small gourd stuck into the opening neck cavity to make a head. Cloves were its eyes and a slice of apple made up its beak. The bird was dressed in cloth clothes that were sewn to look like that of a knight. The partridge even held an eating knife in its wing. “It is beautiful as well as very creative, Sir Adam. Thank you.”

  “Don’t thank me until you have tasted the finished product, my lady.” He proceeded to cut off a piece and place it on her trencher. Today, instead of the silver plates, trenchers of stale bread were being used to hold their food. After the meal, the trenchers would be given as alms to the poor.

  “Mmmmm. It’s good,” she said, savoring a piece in her mouth, almost screaming out because it was so delectable.

  “How about a little warm mead to go with it?” Adam flagged down the ewerer who poured her some of the hot, fermented honey drink infused with spices.

  Eva was in heaven. She hadn’t tasted food this good since her mother was alive. Lost in the experience, she didn’t even realize that Adam was handing her father a trencher of meat. Since her father’s goblet was in his left hand, Adam handed the food to his right hand, waiting for him to take it.

  “Here you are, Good Earl,” said Adam, still waiting. “Did you need a bigger cut of the meat?”

  “Nay, I’m good and that is good and everything is good,” mumbled the earl, dazed and flushed in the face.

  “What did you say?” Adam looked confused and leaned closer to try to decipher the earl’s words.

  “He said thank you, it looks good,” Eva blurted out. “Oh, who is that?” she asked, pointing in the opposite direction so Adam had to turn his head to look. In the meantime, she took the trencher from him and lifted her father’s right hand, placing it atop it.

  “Do you mean my squire?” Adam turned back, his eyes shooting down to the earl’s trencher and then back up to her.

  “I suppose it is your squire. I didn’t recognize him.” Eva picked up a serving spoon and ladled some of the pears along with the sauce over her partridge. “Thank you, Sir Adam. You may go back to the kitchen now.” The sooner she dismissed him, the better. She didn’t want him too close to her father because he was a very observant man.

  Eva had just finished eating and spoke to the healer and her grandmother to take her father back to his solar when Bryce passed by with a good dozen palm-sized pies on a tray. She noticed he walked out the door into the courtyard. Curious as to what he was doing, she followed.

  “Squire,” she called out, running after him into the cold. She’d left so quickly she hadn’t even had the chance to don her cloak.

  “Aye, my lady?” Bryce turned around with a questioning look upon his brow.

  “What is that and where are you going with it?” she snapped. “All food is to be kept in the great hall.”

  “Aye, my lady. However, Sir Adam sent me back to the kitchen to get more umble pies to give to the poor.”

  “He did, did he? And where is Sir Adam right now?”

  “He’s at the castle gate giving out trenchers as well as cooked geese and umble pies to those in need.”

  This infuriated Eva and she wasn’t going to stand for it. “Give me that tray,” she said, all but snatching it from the squire’s hand. She stormed up to the front gate.
“Sir Adam,” she called out. “What is the meaning of this?”

  Adam handed a few trenchers and also a cooked goose to a woman with three small children.

  “Eat it in good health,” he told the woman, giving one of her children a pat on the head. He turned to Eva and looked down to the tray of umble pies from her. Umble pies were made from the inners left over after cooking a deer. They were usually given to the poor. “Oh, wait,” he called out to the woman. “Here is an umble pie for each of your children.” He proceeded to take the pies off the tray and hand them to the children. “Be careful. They’re hot and I don’t want you to burn yourself.”

  “Thank you, my lord,” said the woman, trying to curtsey while holding on to the food as well as the hand of her youngest son. “I am a widow and have no coin to buy food to feed my children. We would have gone hungry tonight if it wasn’t for you.”

  “Don’t thank me,” said Adam. “It was Lady Eva’s wish that you have it.”

  “Lady Eva, you are an angel and I cannot tell you how much this means to me.” The woman curtseyed and thanked her a few more times before turning and leaving with her children. Now, Eva didn’t feel as if she could be so harsh with Adam. Why did the woman have to thank her? After hearing that she was a widow and her children would have gone hungry on Christmas, Eva couldn’t bring herself to reprimand Adam after all. No child or woman should go hungry, especially on a holiday.

  “Sir Adam, I don’t mind you giving out the umble pies and trenchers, but I hope you have at least been charging these people for the geese you’ve been handing out from my larder.”

  “Charging? Whatever for?” asked Adam.

  “You do realize that the church has a fixed price of seven pence for a cooked goose and six pence for an uncooked bird.”

  “That is the church, not us,” he said, taking a few more umble pies and handing them out to the beggars, smiling and wishing them all a good night. “Most of these people don’t even make six pence for an entire week’s wages let alone a day’s. Plus, they had to pay you rent today, on Christmas. Without any money left, most of them would have gone hungry. I’m sure you don’t want that, do you, my lady? Didn’t you hear that woman call you an angel?”

  Eva did hear it and it only put her in an awkward position. No one had ever called her an angel before. It felt good. It felt right.

  “Here,” she said, shoving the empty tray into Adam’s hands. She shivered and wrapped her arms around her. Adam was wearing a cloak and looked warm.

  “Squire, take this,” said Adam, handing Bryce the tray. Then he proceeded to remove his cloak and wrap it around her shoulders.

  “What are you doing?” she asked.

  “I see you shivering and your teeth chattering,” he remarked. “Take my cloak, as I have already warmed it.”

  It did feel warm from his body heat, and the thought of being wrapped in his clothes seemed very intimate. It smelled like roasted goose from the kitchen and held a pine scent from Adam who seemed to spend a lot of time outdoors.

  Music floated by on the breeze as carolers sang Christmas songs in front of a manger and danced in a circle in the courtyard.

  “May I escort you over to the Christmas crib?” asked Adam, holding out his arm. “The Christmas play should be starting shortly.”

  “But you’re not dressed for this weather,” she protested. “You’ll freeze without your cloak.”

  “Then we’ll share it,” he said, slipping his arm around her waist before she knew what was happening. “Our bodies pushed close together beneath this cloak will enable us to share the heat.”

  “Aye,” she said, letting him lead her to the Christmas crib as he held her close and they snuggled together beneath the cloak. Eva was in heaven once again.

  Chapter 5

  Turtle Doves and Pygg Jars

  Eva awoke the next morning to hear pounding on her door.

  “Who is it?” she called out, rolling over and snuggling into the warm covers. They reminded her of Sir Adam’s warm cloak last night. They had snuggled together beneath his cloak as they watched the Christmas play and listened to the carolers. She had probably drunk too much mulled wine, but it felt good at the time even if her head hurt now. All she wanted to do was sleep.

  “It’s your handmaid, my lady. I’m here to help you dress,” came the woman’s muffled voice from the other side of the door.

  “I don’t need help today, but thank you,” she called back, looking at the door from her prone position on the bed.

  “Aye, my lady.”

  Eva caressed the pillow with her cheek pretending it was Adam’s fingers against her skin. She had just closed her eyes again when the door banged open causing her to bolt upright.

  “Grandmother, you scared me,” she exclaimed, holding the blanket against her chest.

  “What is the meaning of your laziness, Eva?”

  “I’m just . . . tired today,” she answered with a yawn.

  “We’ll see about that.” The old woman shut the door, hobbled over and pulled open the shutter. Cold, crisp air as well as snow blew in, making Eva shiver.

  “Close the shutter, Grandmother. I’m cold.”

  “I’ll bet you’d like to be warm the way you were with Sir Adam fondling you under his cloak right in front of the baby Jesus in the manger last night.”

  “What?” That got her attention. Her eyes sprang open wide and she bolted off the bed. “That’s a lie! There was no fondling going on. He only offered to share his cloak with me because I was cold.”

  “There is whispering through the rushes this morning that more than just cuddling happened between you two. Is this true?”

  “Nay! It’s not true at all.” Eva quickly started to dress. “Tell me who is gossiping about me so I can rip out their tongues.”

  “I overheard some of the servants talking in the kitchen.”

  “Then I’ll have them all flayed.” Eva’s blood boiled.

  “There’s no time for that. Have you written the missive to the king yet to keep him from coming here on Twelfth Night?”

  “Nay, I haven’t had time.”

  “Then make time,” snapped the old woman. “Your father will never be able to carry on a conversation with the king. As soon as Edward realizes that Albert is not only lame but addled, he’ll snatch away his title, the castle and his lands so fast that we’re all going to end up on our rears out in the cold snow.”

  “I’ll do it, don’t worry,” she assured her grandmother. “I won’t let the king take away everything from us, I promise.”

  “Then you’d better start thinking more about protecting your father and his assets and stop thinking so much about that silver-tongued devil, Sir Adam. He’s going to be our demise.”

  “Silver-tongued devil? I thought you liked Sir Adam and said he was charming.”

  “He had me fooled at first, but not anymore.”

  “Don’t worry, Grandmother. I will not let Sir Adam distract me again. As soon as the meal is over I will write that missive and send a messenger to deliver it to the king.”

  “Don’t wait too long or it’ll be too late,” snapped the old woman. “And whatever you do, don’t lose your heart to Sir Adam because it’ll only hurt you in the end.”

  “I won’t,” Eva promised, knowing it was already too late because she had already lost her heart to the mysterious man.

  * * *

  “So what have you found out about her father?” Bryce asked as Adam leaned over the hearth stirring the kettle of bubbling frumenty. The hot porridge made of cracked wheat, eggs, slivered almonds, and sugar, was a staple food and called pottage. Adam dipped in a spoon to have a taste.

  “I haven’t found anything yet,” he said. “I’ve been too busy in the kitchen to investigate matters further.” Adam licked his lips and made a face. “Hand me that jar of cinnamon, Squire. This needs a little more spice.”

  Bryce handed him the jar. “You’ll never be made a baron if you can’t carry out
this mission.”

  Adam snatched the jar from his hand and sprinkled it into the porridge. “You don’t need to remind me. I am going to do it, but I wanted to make sure I won Lady Eva over first.”

  “I’m sure you did that last night. After all, everyone is talking about the two of you getting cozy together under your cloak.”

  “Nothing happened,” said Adam, lifting the spoon to his squire’s mouth. “Taste this. Does it need more almond milk or perhaps a little more meat broth?”

  “You used both?” asked Bryce, since usually only one or the other was used in the preparation.

  “Don’t question me, just taste. Something is missing but I don’t know what.”

  Bryce tasted it and nodded. “That’s good. I’m glad you didn’t put those nasty currants in this time. I don’t like them.”

  “Currants, that’s it! That’s what I forgot. Thank you, Bryce,” said Adam, slapping his squire on the back. “I don’t know where my mind is today.”

  “I do,” mumbled Bryce under his breath.

  “Take the pigeon pies out of the oven or they’ll overcook,” Adam called out to the servants.

  “We forgot about using these,” called out a servant boy, holding up a cage with two turtle doves in it that Adam had saved from the butcher’s block earlier.

  “Nay! Put them down. Those aren’t for eating,” he called out.

  “Sir Adam,” Bryce tried to talk once again, but when a shrill voice called out from the other side of the kitchen, Adam’s head popped up and his attention was diverted once again.

  “It’s Eva and she looks madder than all hell,” said Adam, feeling affected by her presence, although he wasn’t sure if it was good or bad.

  “Was it you?” Eva grabbed a young servant boy by the front of his tunic and squeezed tightly.

  “Nay, my lady, it wasn’t me, I swear,” squeaked out the boy in fear.

  “Then how about you or you?” Eva dropped the boy and pointed an accusing finger at two more of the cooks. Her other hand was balled up and jammed up against her waist.

  “It wasn’t us, my lady, please don’t hurt us,” said one of the servant girls.