by Carmen Caine
Not knowing whether to be grateful or insulted, Kate quickly slipped into the dress as Maura made ready. Neither spoke as they left the cottage a short time later, hurrying through the dark streets to the castle high above them.
The sun had just painted the sky a faint pink when Kate stepped into Castle Stirling’s Great Hall, her heart beating wildly with excitement. Looking around in awe, she spied a cluster of women huddled in front of a wide fireplace and hurrying to join them, gave a cheerful greeting, “And a braw day to ye all!”
The women eyed her, curious.
Several smiled.
One timidly replied, “And the same to ye, lass.”
“Are ye waiting for the Chamberlain as well?” Kate asked, drawing her plaid closer about her shoulders and eyeing the Great Hall with wonder.
It was mostly dark, but what she could see was beyond magnificent. The kings’ high table stood on a dais, rising high above the other tables lining the length of the chamber. Neat rows of ornate, carved chairs with velvet cushions lined the walls bedecked with fine tapestries of unicorns. Suits of armor graced each entrance, casting ominous shadows in the flickering firelight.
As Kate surveyed the place in awe, she found her gaze drawn to several dark forms huddled on the floor. Squinting, she peered closer. Apparently, some of the servants had fallen asleep there the night before. She frowned, wondering why they had not yet risen.
“They’ll pay for their folly,” someone murmured, noting the direction of her scrutiny.
Kate pursed her lips. “Can we not wake them?” she asked. “’Tis an act of kindness.”
The women eyed her suspiciously.
After a tense moment of silence, Kate made up her mind. Straightening her plaid, she marched over to the sleeping servants.
In the dim light, she could barely make out three men, snoring on their backs. Prodding them with her shoe, she flapped her plaid and hissed, “Away with ye now! The Chamberlain’s to be here soon!”
One of the men stirred and looked around sleepily before shouting at the others. Scrambling to their feet, they bolted out of the hall without a backward glance.
Pleased, Kate smoothed her skirt and moved to join the others only to find the Chamberlain already there, watching her with a scowl.
The Chamberlain of the Great Hall was a gray-haired, lean man with a bulbous nose and penetrating green eyes. Dressed in a fine blue plaid and leather boots, he looked very distinguished.
Kate hurriedly returned to the fireplace under his skewering gaze.
“Your name?” He asked, scowling.
“Kate Ferguson, sir.” She dipped a quick curtsey.
“A Ferguson!” The man’s brows drew into line of displeasure as he pointed at the cluster of women. “Heed me well, all of ye! Ye do as I order, and if ye don’t, ye’ll pay for it. Kate, ye can serve as a warning to all. Ye’ll spend this day mucking the stables with the lads!”
Kate frowned. She hadn’t disobeyed the man. He hadn’t even been there, but she knew better than to point that out to him.
Several of the women smirked in her direction.
“The rest of ye can work to set the hall to rights!” The Chamberlain eyed them critically. “Ye’ll bring the peat, set the tables, and fill the salt cellars. Ye’ll keep your heads uncovered at all times. All of ye are to be gone afore the nobles arrive. Ye aren’t fit to be seen! Ach, what a poor lot!”
As he continued berating them, Kate took a step back. Aye, mucking the stables was looking finer by the moment. The man hadn’t been nearly so cantankerous when she had met him the day before. She wondered what had happened.
Signaling for the higher-ranking servants to take charge of the new ones, the Chamberlain eyed her once again and barked, “Off with ye to the stables, Kate!”
Raising her chin in a slight gesture of defiance, Kate curtsied and sent him a sweet smile.
He didn’t miss her challenging response, and his brow cocked upwards as a middle-aged woman in a blue dress approached him. With his eyes never leaving Kate’s face, he bent an ear to listen as the woman tugged on his sleeve.
All at once ashamed, Kate dipped a contrite, deeper curtsey and headed for the door.
She was right fortunate to have this work. After months of scraping by she now, at least, felt somewhat secure. Ach, she had no cause to be ungrateful or to match wits with the man.
She had taken only a dozen steps before the Chamberlain’s rough voice ordered her again, “Kate, ye’ll be working in the scullery instead. They’ve need of extra hands this day.”
Turning to bow at the man yet again, Kate kept her eyes focused on the floor as the middle-aged woman swept into view.
“Follow me, lass,” she ordered in clipped tones, guiding her from the Great Hall to the North Gate housing the castle kitchens. “Ye can help the lads unload the fish from Leigh harbor and the vegetables from Cambuskenneth, but only those two carts, do ye hear? The others are nae my concern. And then ye’ll wash the pots. Many have taken ill this week, so ye’d best be quick afore the cooks start grumbling. ‘Tis a murderous affair when they do. Ach, I feel chill. I fear I’ve the fever myself now! I’ll show ye the carts first, be quick now!”
Kate followed her into the courtyard and hurried across, the wind whipping her hair unmercifully. She burrowed deeper into her plaid.
Spring was slow in coming this year. The bare branches on the trees were only now budding with life. Soon the fruit trees would bloom in the countryside and flowers would spring up along the riverbanks. For a brief moment, she felt a twinge of longing, remembering the many springs that she’d spent with her father fishing on the lochs. Spring was her favorite time of year, filled with hope and the promise of a new life.
She couldn’t resist a smile. Fortune was favoring her at last. Aye, she had been punished, but working in the castle kitchens, ‘twas hardly a punishment. Even mucking the stables was better than tricking drunkards into buying charmed stones.
A line of carts waited outside the kitchen doors, and the woman pointed out two of them, repeating firmly, “Only those, lass! And have a care, ‘tis for the king’s table. See the lads treat them gently!”
Half a dozen lads scurried about, unloading kegs and crates, bumping and jostling with each other as the woman waded through them, boxing their ears. She then disappeared into the kitchens.
Rubbing her hands together, Kate bustled through the lads, grabbing two of the sturdier ones by the ear and pulling them along. “Be quick and have a care! Ye heard the woman! These are for the king’s table!”
“Ach, ‘tis all for the king’s table,” one of them grumbled, but they both heeded her well enough, and in short order, she saw the baskets of greens, roots, and fish safely stacked against the kitchen wall.
The kitchens of Stirling Castle bustled with life. To one side, a row of kettles bubbled over a great turf and peat fire casting a ruddy glow about the room. To the other side, several fireplaces spanned the width of the chamber, each with a large roasting spit and a lad on both ends, turning the spits while wiping the sweat from their brows. She could feel the heat from where she stood.
Torches flickered on the walls between shelves that were stacked with bowls and pitchers. A variety of waterfowl and rabbits hung from the ceiling, mingled with braids of garlic and ropes of onions. Through one doorway in the back, she saw bakers sliding fresh round loaves into large baskets. The other doorway revealed the scullery.
Taking a deep breath, she marched into the room, prepared for the same frosty welcome she had received in the Great Hall but found herself greeted warmly instead.
Divided in half, one side of the scullery scoured the dishes and pots, while the other prepared the vegetables, fish, and fowl for the cooks.
Kate found herself sent straightway to pluck the geese, joining several others who welcomed her with broad smiles and a stream of gossip.
Time flew quickly. She lost count of the geese she had plucked. Indeed, she scarcely noticed she
was even working. The work was easy and the company of the women entertaining.
Suddenly, a scullery maid dashed into the room, holding a large, slightly-burnt meat pie over her head. “’Tis time to eat!” She grinned widely. “Harkin napped a wee too long again!”
They began to cackle and file out of the door, beckoning Kate to join them. “There’s plenty here for all, lass! And, ye have to taste Harkin’s meat pies!”
Kate followed them out into the bright spring afternoon, to a patch of new grass growing next to the castle wall. As the others settled down, leaning against the stones warmed by the sun, she stared in the opposite direction.
Never had she seen such a view. She could see for miles. This side of the castle overlooked the valley and glens, leading into the highlands beyond. At the base of the hill, the great stone bridge straddled the majestic River Forth winding into the distance, towards the sea, and towards Dunfermline.
Dunfermline.
She stifled a sigh. If only she could find some way to get to the Pilgrim’s Well and to heal her father’s eyes. ‘Twould be a miracle. She closed her own eyes, wrinkling her nose, and wished for a miracle.
“I’ve been looking for ye everywhere!” Maura’s voice sounded from nearby.
Kate turned to see the woman striding purposefully her direction.
“Where have ye been, Kate?” Maura asked, a scowl marring her comely face. “Were ye not to be in the Great Hall? Why are ye here with the scullery wenches?” She spoke the words disdainfully. As a chambermaid, she was placed far above those in the scullery.
The scullery maids clucked, mimicking her grand gestures behind her back in such a way that Kate found it difficult to remain straight-faced. “The Chamberlain sent me here. ‘Twas a misunderstanding…” Kate trailed off in the attempt to swallow a laugh that came out a gurgling kind of snort instead.
Maura raised a disparaging brow. “I’ll not have ye ruin my reputation! ‘Twas my good name that got ye that position! Remember that ye owe me the love potion, and ‘tis only fair that ye give it straightway!”
The scullery maids stopped their mimicry to eye Kate with interest.
“I told ye, time and again, Maura!” Kate frowned, allowing annoyance to riddle her tone. “I’ve not the knowledge or skill for such a thing!”
“Ach, but aren’t ye the wee, crafty one!” Maura reached over and pinched her cheeks in what looked like an affectionate gesture but was far too hard to be anything but a warning. “I’ve no longer the time to waste! I’ve need of the potion this day!”
Kate expelled her breath. The eye of every woman was upon her. Pursing her lips, she replied, “Ye’ve no need of a potion, Maura. With your fair hair and fine looks, ye can have whatever man ye wish.”
The women were still watching her with interest, and Kate sighed inwardly. She could tell by the sudden, hopeful expressions on their faces that the lot of them would soon pester her for potions. If she couldn’t convince them of her inability to make them, convincing them that they didn’t need witchery to heal their hearts would be her only option.
“Look at ye now.” Kate moved to the nearest girl to straighten her gown and to brush a goose feather from her red hair. “Your hair is bonny, any lad would tell ye so.”
The girl blushed.
“And ye!” Kate turned to the girl’s companion. “Your green eyes could beckon lads from even Edinburgh!”
The girl giggled in response.
With a bright smile, Kate moved onto the next, a careworn woman wearing a gray patched dress. She was rigid, tense. “I do know of a tea that will help ye sleep,” Kate offered, and then ordered, “Close your eyes and think only of spring flowers while I knead the muscles of your shoulders. Ach, ye are as taut as a bow string!”
The others laughed and the woman smiled ruefully, but did as Kate bid, closing her eyes as Kate firmly pinched the woman’s tight shoulders. She massaged them as the monks at Cambuskenneth Abbey had taught her, in order to help ease her father’s suffering.
“I’ll speak with the lass mothering the others. Bring her here at once,” a low, melodic voice ordered from close by.
Kate whirled.
The speaker was a young woman of stately bearing, dressed in a wine-colored silk gown with a pearl-encrusted headdress upon her russet-brown hair. Her delicate coloring, posture, and proud carriage announced her as a member of the nobility.
She stood a short distance away with her blue eyes locked on Kate as she motioned to the gray-haired, stern-faced woman at her side.
The scullery maids, including Kate, gasped and bowed deeply as the stern-faced woman glided forward.
Kate held her breath as a pair of fine leather shoes stopped in front of her.
“Rise, lass,” the woman ordered in a peppery voice. “And let me see your face.”
Cool fingers cupped her chin, pulling her up, and Kate lifted her gaze to stare into the woman’s unreadable, brown eyes. After a moment, she nodded, and then said, “Lady Elsa would speak with ye, lass. Follow me.”
Biting her lip, Kate did as she was bid, curtseying low before the lady in the wine-colored gown.
“You may rise,” Lady Elsa said, waiting before continuing. “And your name?”
“Kate, my lady,” Kate replied, taking a deep breath.
Lady Elsa was quite young, scarcely older than herself. She was beautiful, with fine white skin and an exquisitely slender neck, but the manner in which she inspected Kate, with fluttery almost nervous gestures, suddenly reminded her of a bird.
The thought helped to Kate relax immediately, and she smiled.
The lady’s eyes narrowed. Tilting her head to one side, she looked deeply into Kate’s eyes before she said, “Walk with me, Kate.”
Keenly aware of Maura’s black looks, Kate fell into step behind Lady Elsa, following as the noble lady ordered the stern-looking woman away and moved further down the castle wall. When they were alone, she turned to Kate. “You look to be the fine, trustworthy sort.”
Kate dipped her head in thanks.
“I’ve just arrived in this place, coming from the Borderlands.” Lady Elsa looked away, grimacing a little. “And I’ve need of a maid.”
Kate nodded politely, wondering why Lady Elsa spoke to her of such things. The touch of sadness about her face made Kate feel a surge of sympathy, and then she understood all at once. Ach, the lady’s heart was heavy. She felt the need to unburden herself.
Kate sent her an understanding smile.
Lady Elsa paused and frowned. “And why do you look at me so?”
“Forgive me, my lady.” Kate bowed again. “But ye seem sad, and I know what sadness feels like.”
The lady raised a finely sculpted brow. After several long moments, she murmured, “You seem to be an observant lass.”
Again, Kate nodded a polite thanks.
“I’ve survived an attack upon my castle and have fled here to the arms of my protector,” Lady Elsa informed her and then added, “It was an attack in which my father was slain.”
Kate’s brown eyes flooded with sympathy.
“My father told me many a time, when in a strange land you must form allies, and true allies are best found among those you lift from the mire.” Lady Elsa blinked rapidly, fluttering her lashes in a very birdlike way as she turned her full gaze upon Kate. “I’ve need of a loyal maid, one I can trust, and I think I like you, Kate. Your eyes are open and earnest, and your manner is kind.”
Kate blinked, embarrassed. “I can only give my thanks for such generous words, my lady.”
“Well?” Lady Elsa tilted her head to one side. “I can offer eight shillings a year, but you must go where I go, and sleep at the foot of my bed.” Sweeping Kate with a critical look, she added, “And, I will include two suitable dresses a year.”
It took Kate several long moments to understand. She gasped. The woman was offering her the position and at eight shillings a year? The Chamberlain had only offered three, and Maura, as chambermaid,
received five. If she made eight shillings a year, she could even pay one of the women from the almshouse to look after her father.
“What say you?” Lady Elsa’s lips were twitching in amusement.
“Oh, I am honored, my lady!” Kate breathed in astonishment before she began to frown. “But, I have no knowledge in the ways of a maid. My father was a fisherman, and I spent my days mending nets and selling fish in the markets.”
“I have little doubt you will learn quickly.” Lady Elsa laughed in a silvery laugh. “And I am not a fine lady, but a poor one, most likely to be hastily wed in an unsuitable match if I do not have a trustworthy maid at my side to spy on my behalf and assist me in such important matters.”
“Ah, it sounds most thrilling, my lady!” Kate tingled with excitement.
“Then, let us try each other’s company this month, Kate,” Lady Elsa suggested. “Are you willing?”
“I am right willing, my lady!” Kate bowed, unable to believe her good fortune.
“Then, follow me at once,” she ordered, moving down the gravel path towards the castle.
Obediently, Kate slipped behind her, wondering if she were in a dream.
Directly below, Kate could see the castle gardens. A man stood alone there, swathed in a great black cape that billowed out behind him in the wind. His hair was dark and his shoulders broad. She shaded her eyes and looked closer. He seemed familiar. For some odd reason, he reminded her of Cameron, but she had little time to wonder as Lady Elsa had moved too far ahead, and she had to scurry to catch up.
Lady Elsa’s chamber was of moderate size, containing a curtained bed, a massive wooden chest, a red carpet in front of the fireplace, and a small table with a chair by the window.
Moving to the window, Lady Elsa took out a small purse from her sleeve and selected a coin. “I’ve need of yarrow, lovage, and pearlwort.”
Kate frowned. “’Twill be difficult to purchase them in the market this time of year, my lady.”
“Then, can you find them?” she asked, a bit nervously.