Merry Medieval Christmas

by Elizabeth Rose et al.

  “Bid the devil, what is she doing?” Adam threw down the spoon and rushed across the room. “My lady, is there a problem with the servants?” he asked, noticing the mean look in her eyes. He hadn’t seen this look since Christmas Eve when he tried to enter her castle uninvited.

  “Someone here is spreading gossip about me and I don’t like it!”

  “Gossip?” Adam chuckled. “Whatever do you mean?”

  “She’s talking about the gossip about you fondling her under the cloak in front of the manger,” said Bryce, biting into an apple as he came up alongside Adam.

  “Squire, I don’t need your help,” growled Adam.

  “Did you start the gossip?” Eva glared at Bryce. Both her hands were on her hips now.

  “Me?” Bryce swallowed hard, almost choking on the apple in the process. His face turned white. “I only told the servants what Adam told me.”

  “What did you tell him?” Now Eva was shooting daggers from her eyes at Adam.

  “My lady, please,” said Adam, trying to calm her down. “I only told him that we shared my cloak and that I was fond of you.”

  “Fond?” Bryce made a face and the apple fell from his hand to the ground. “I thought you said you fondled her, not that you were fond of her,” he told Adam under his breath.

  “That, Squire, was your first mistake,” said Adam. “And my mistake was telling you anything at all.”

  “I’m sorry, my lady, honest I am.” Bryce talked to Eva as he backed away from her, and half-hid behind Adam. “I’ll make sure all the servants know the truth.”

  “And the nobles,” added Adam. “Don’t forget to tell the nobles. After all, we don’t want to sully Lady Eva’s reputation.”

  “Aye, my lord,” Bryce answered before turning and running off in the opposite direction.

  “Your squire will be punished for that,” snapped Eva.

  “Now, why would you want to do that?” Adam scooped up a huge handful of dried currants from a barrel and walked over to the kettle and threw them into the pottage. “It was an honest mistake and he is going to correct it, so there is no harm done.” He continued to stir the porridge.

  “No harm done?” she squawked. “My reputation is on the line, if I must remind you.”

  Adam lifted a spoonful of pottage up to his mouth and nibbled at it. “Taste,” he said, holding the wooden stirring spoon up to her mouth to distract her.

  “What is it?” she asked, staring down her nose.

  “It’s frumenty with my secret ingredients added. That is, lots of cinnamon and nutmeg and a loving handful of currants.”

  “Currants? In the Christmas porridge?” Eva made a face and held out her hand. “I don’t think I want any. I don’t even like frumenty. I never have.”

  “Don’t scrunch up your nose before you’ve even had a taste.”

  Without waiting for her to resist, Adam brought the spoon to his mouth, blowing on the mixture to cool it, and then stuck the tip of the spoon into her mouth.

  Eva liked the intimacy of Adam blowing on her food. She opened her mouth willingly and let the spoon enter. The sweet taste of cinnamon exploded on her tongue mixed with the chewiness of the currants. It made a wonderful combination.

  “It’s good,” she admitted, licking her lips. She noticed him staring at her lips. Then he took a step closer, still focused on her mouth. She was afraid he was going to kiss her again, so she quickly stepped backwards. When she moved, she stumbled and fell against the table where two birds in a cage started fussing and beating their wings against the bars. “What is the meaning of this?” she spat.

  “That is Adam and Eve. They are a present for you, my lady. Those are two of the most perfect turtle doves you’ll ever see because they are in love.” He picked up the cage and handed it to her.

  “For me?” she asked in question. No one had ever given her a gift like this before. “And you named them?”

  “Aye. After us,” he said with a smile. “Of course, since Adam and Eve were the very first couple, I called the bird Eve instead of Eva. I hope you don’t mind.”

  “I’ve never had a bird named after me before.” Her heart swelled from Adam’s thoughtfulness.

  “Go ahead and put your finger up to the cage and pet them,” Adam urged her. “They’ll coo. They like that.”

  “Oh, I don’t know,” she said, wringing her hands in front of her as she looked at the birds.

  “Allow me.” He took her hand in his. Their eyes interlocked and she felt heat engulf her. Then, guiding her, she petted the birds through the bars, while he held her hand.

  Eva liked the way the birds rubbed up against her finger, but what she liked more was Adam holding her hand. She smiled, feeling as if she wanted to kiss him. Then she remembered her grandmother’s warning and slowly pulled her hand out of his.

  “What is that wonderful aroma?” she asked, trying to change the subject.

  “Oh, that’s part of our meal,” Sir Adam told her. “I hope you like pigeon pie.”

  Her eyes flashed back to the doves that were cooing and rubbing up against each other. Adam and Eve, he’d called them. Lovers that were oblivious to the fact they had almost been part of the meal. Suddenly, she wasn’t hungry.

  * * *

  After the meal was completed, Sir Adam hurried from the kitchen to talk to Eva before she left the great hall.

  “My lady,” he said, rushing after her, hoping to get her attention.

  “What is it, Sir Adam? I have things to do.” She continued to walk as she spoke.

  “It’ll only take a moment. Since it is St. Stephen’s Day, I’m sure you’ll want to give the servants the rest of the day off.”

  “What?” She stopped dead in her tracks and spun around. “Nay, I’d never do that. Why would I?”

  “It’s custom to let the servants take some of the leftover Christmas food and spend the day with their families.”

  “Aye, my lady,” said her steward, Sir Geoffrey, overhearing their conversation. He wandered over to join them. “I’m sorry to intervene, but what Sir Adam says is true. Your father always gives the servants the day off and sends them home with a gift as well on the feast of Saint Stephen. I’m surprised the earl hasn’t told you. I’ll go speak to him about it at once.”

  “Nay,” she said, not wanting the steward to go to her father’s solar. “I’m sure it’ll be fine. Go ahead, Sir Geoffrey. Tell the servants to take the rest of the day for themselves.”

  “What about a gift?” asked the steward. “The earl always gives them a gift for their family. I’ll go to his solar and ask –”

  “Nay! Do not disturb my father. His leg is troubling him and he is sleeping. The church already opened the box of alms this morning, passing them out to the poor. That is enough of a gift.”

  “But I haven’t spoken to the earl in six months now, my lady,” said the steward. “There are things I need to discuss with him.”

  “Six months,” repeated Adam. “And still, his leg isn’t healed after all this time?”

  Eva didn’t want Adam asking any more questions, and neither did she want to leave him alone with Sir Geoffrey. That would be a recipe for trouble. She had been headed to her chamber to write the missive to the king, but now she would have to do it later. More important at the moment, she had to distract Adam.

  “Sir Adam, what do you suggest we give the servants as a gift?”

  His attention was diverted. Her plan worked. “Well,” he said, holding his hand to his chin in thought. “I’ve been meaning to tell you that I checked the supply of goods in the undercroft.”

  “Good. I hope you found what you needed,” she told him.

  “I found many things including some exotic dried herbs and spices that I’ll be using in the preparation of the meals. However, I also found a box with dozens of pyggs in it.”

  “Pyggs,” repeated Eva, almost forgetting about the small clay pots with slits at the top that were made from orange clay called pygg. Oftentim
es, when a servant was tossed a coin by a noble, they placed it into their pygg jar for safe keeping. Her mother used to put a pence in each and give them out to the servants at Christmastime. “Aye, we’ll use those as gifts, Sir Adam.” She turned back to her steward. “I’ll get a bag of coins and you both can help me fill the pyggs and hand them out to the servants as they leave to spend the day with their families.”

  “That’s a very thoughtful idea,” said Adam with a smile that could melt her heart.

  It wasn’t easy trying to forget the man when he smiled at her in a manner that made her go weak in the knees.

  Chapter 6

  French Hens, Collie Birds and Holy Innocents

  Eva had no idea where the time had gone. Yesterday, when the servants returned from their day off, Adam had surprised her by taking her out into the courtyard where they proceeded to hang apples from the bare branches of the trees in the castle orchard. He had reminded her that it had been Adam and Eve Day on Christmas Eve and hanging apples from the trees was a tradition.

  She had known about it, but since her mother had passed away, a lot of the Christmastide traditions had been ignored or forgotten.

  Adam had also insisted on taking her for a ride in the wagon to the coast where the trade ships had just come in to dock. There, they went from ship to ship buying not only soft velvet to make a new gown for her, but also bought herbs from faraway places. On the way back, Adam stopped in the churchyard where they purchased and consumed a good amount of Church Ale. This was a strong brew reserved and sold only at Christmastime.

  Eva already felt dizzy by the time they returned to the castle. Adam decided she needed to eat and so he had prepared French hens brushed in garlic and basted with butter. They were filled with a breaded stuffing combined with onions, rosemary, and lavender.

  She had been so satisfied that she went back to her chamber and fell asleep early. But today was the Feast Day of the Holy Innocents. This was a day that no one looked forward to. It was considered a day of bad luck since it was the day that Herod killed the boy babies looking for the baby Jesus. Even kings refused to be crowned on this day.

  Eva approached her father’s solar, hoping not to find her grandmother there. She still hadn’t written the fake missive to the king, and the more time that passed, the harder it was becoming to do it.

  “Father?” She poked her head into the room, gasping when she saw Adam and his squire standing at her father’s bedside. The healer was there with them.

  “What are you doing in here?” she spat, hurrying over to them. “Healer, didn’t I tell you that no one was to disturb my father?”

  “Aye, you did my lady,” said the healer with a bow. “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s not his fault,” said Adam, holding a jar of some kind of ointment. “I insisted on seeing the earl.

  “Who is it?” The earl opened his eyes and tried to lift his head. “Mother?” asked the confused man.

  “Mother?” Adam looked at the earl oddly.

  “He’s having a dream about my mother, that’s all.” Eva pushed her way between Adam and the bed. “You’ll have to leave now. He needs his rest.”

  “Wait,” said Adam as she tried to send him away. “I wanted to show the healer the balm I made from comfrey, olive oil, and beeswax. It should help with healing your father’s injured leg. Comfrey is wonderful with healing wounds and even sprains and broken bones.” He held up the jar to show her.

  “That’s fine, thank you.” Eva took the jar and left it on the table as she escorted Adam and Bryce to the door. “Today is the Feast Day of the Holy Innocents and there is much to be done. I’ll not have you wasting another moment, Sir Adam.”

  * * *

  Adam hadn’t been in the room with the earl for more than a few minutes before Eva barged in and hauled him away. He was never going to be able to complete his mission and find out if the earl was purposely ignoring the king if he wasn’t allowed a minute to talk to the man. Something was odd here and he needed to look more carefully into the situation.

  If it had been six months and still the earl’s leg wasn’t healed, then someone had to be lying. Adam had broken his leg when he was a youngster and it had been healed in just a few months. Even though the earl was old, in six months he should be up and walking again and not lying in bed calling other men Mother.

  “We need to go out to the courtyard at once where the Boy Bishop will be chosen,” Eva told him.

  They all walked outside where a priest had chosen a youngster from the choir to act as Boy Bishop for the day. The boy was about ten years of age. He was immediately dressed in a mock bishop’s robe, and given a mitre, or tall hat, as well as a staff with a cross at the top called a crozier.

  “All the young boys, line up at once,” called out one of the soldiers. Mothers cried and held on to their sons as the soldiers tried to pull them out of their hands. Blaxton, the gruffest, most relentless soldier at the castle walked to the front of the line with a whip in his hand.

  “What’s going on?” asked Adam, not liking the looks of this.

  “It’s Childermass,” stated Eva. “Surely, you know that.”

  “Aye, I know that it is the Feast Day of the Holy Innocents and custom for the children to be beaten in their beds as a reminder of what Herod did but, surely, you aren’t going to allow a soldier to whip them?”

  “I have never liked this custom, Sir Adam,” she told him, feeling a knot in her stomach. “However, you know as well as I that we cannot break the age-old custom, even though I don’t like it one bit.”

  “Do something to stop it,” stated Adam.

  “I can’t,” she said with a trembling voice. “My father is the only one who can do that.”

  “Then someone get him.”

  “He is ill and cannot leave his bed. Besides, he will not break custom.”

  “Stop!” Adam shouted to the guard with a raised hand. “Eva, your father needs to be confronted about this. If you don’t agree with it, then tell him so. Make him change his mind.”

  If Adam wasn’t mistaken, he saw tears in Eva’s eyes. He didn’t understand her reaction, or why she didn’t go to her father and get him to change his decision. It was frustrating him.

  “My lady, you know this is custom and what we do every time on the Feast Day of the Holy Innocents. Everyone does it,” said Blaxton, cracking his whip in the air. The children cried and the women screamed.

  “Nay!” Eva cried out, boldly stepping up to the guard and snatching the whip out of his hand. A tear dripped down her cheek. “Sir Adam is right. No one will hurt these children today or any day from now on, no matter if it is custom or not.”

  “You don’t have the authority to stop this,” complained the guard.

  “Get the earl,” someone else shouted.

  Lady Barbara walked forward with a folded up parchment in her hands. Her cane thumped against the ground with each step she took. “The earl is not able to join us today but while at his bedside he asked me to bring this missive. It states that within the walls of Cavendish Castle, there will no longer be the custom of hurting the children on the Feast Day of the Holy Innocents.”

  “Read the missive aloud,” called out one of the guards.

  Adam noticed the frightened look that flashed between Eva and her grandmother.

  “Let’s see that missive,” growled Blaxton, reaching for the parchment.

  Lady Barbara pulled it away and hit the soldier with her cane.

  “I don’t believe that missive is from the earl,” said one of the knights.

  “I don’t believe it says anything at all,” shouted someone else.

  The crowd was in an uproar, all shouting out to see the missive. Adam saw despair and fear in Eva’s eyes. Finally, she walked over and took the missive from her grandmother.

  “I will read the missive aloud,” she stated. “And then, if I hear anyone say another word that they don’t believe my grandmother, they will be thrown into the dungeon for di
srespect.”

  Eva’s hands shook as she stepped back and opened the parchment, holding it close to her chest as she began to read.

  “I, the earl of Cavendish of sound . . . mind and body . . . declare that the tradition of beating the children –” She swallowed hard and tried to blink a tear away from her eye. Adam didn’t believe it either that the missive was from the earl. So he slipped back into the crowd and slowly made his way to sneak up behind her.

  “Of beating the children,” she continued. “It will no longer be allowed.”

  “He can’t do that,” shouted one of the guards. “Only the king can give that order.”

  “Line up the boys,” growled Blaxton, snapping his whip in the air, meaning to continue with the beating.

  Adam peeked around several people, trying to see what was written on the parchment. And sure enough, just as he thought, the parchment was blank. The earl hadn’t given the order, and neither had he written a missive at all. Things looked to be going from bad to worse on this unlucky day. He had to do something quickly to help Eva.

  Slinking back into the crowd, Adam made his way quickly over to the newly chosen Boy Bishop.

  Eva frantically looked around at the angry and frightened faces of the crowd feeling as if things had gotten out of hand. While she didn’t want the children harmed, it was true that it was tradition and the king or the church were the only ones who could change it. Unfortunately, her attempt to fake an order from her father didn’t matter in the least.

  She frantically looked around for Adam, wanting his support. To her dismay, he was nowhere to be found. Then she finally spotted him over by the well, talking to the Boy Bishop whose name was Timothy. Anger boiled within her that when she needed him the most, he disappeared to talk to a child.

  “Line up the first one,” said Blaxton with a grunt. A guard grabbed a little boy of about five years of age and held one arm while another guard took the other. The boy cried and his mother screamed from behind him.

  This couldn’t happen. Eva wouldn’t allow it. Running forward, she darted in front of the boy, pulling the child into her embrace just as the whip came down. She bravely took the lash to her back in place of the child.