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Grinndle’s Life

Grinndle sat hunched on a stool chewing a long piece of hay. The sweet smelling rushes had been changed that morning so he indulged himself. See, he said to himself, it started out just like any other normal day. Normal for him, for the rest of the castle servants who had gone about their business just as they always did. Fires were made up from last night's embers, oatmeal was set to stew over the flames and pots of water to brew in the small hearths whilst a new haunch of meat or half a cow was attached to the spit to roast for most of the day. The old carcass from the previous day was removed and split into edible portions for the servants (so that they concentrated on the Master's table) and the picked bones were tossed to the half dozen deer hounds. The dogs squabbled over the choicest pieces but finally all settled down in different kitchen corners to enjoy a good gnaw. It kept the beasts quiet and out of the way of the cook and his helpers.
There were often strangers in the castle; men on loan from other Lords; passing monks who dispensed Godly prayers but who in turn had to be fed in thanks for their Blessings. So the kitchen was always a busy place. Visiting Lords also frequented Granteed Castle and their servants were in need of provisions too. Sometimes the cook was hard pressed to find enough food to feed all the visitors in time. Men were sent out quickly to kill the Master's deer and swine, so there was always the smell of fresh blood to mingle with the cooking aromas and scents of people and animals, especially if the day was inclement, then the wet clothing (often with many days dirt and sweat on it) reeked, adding other pungent odours that lingered in the fetid air.
As Grinndle sucked on the stem, he worried over this day's events as he watched the sun setting red through the high window in the kitchen wall on the far side of the room. The kitchen was below the ramparts and this view of the sun going down was Grinndle's favourite. He often sat watching the nightly occurrence if he was allowed to sit still, that is. More often than not though he was sent on some task by one or other of the cook's men so he wasn't able to witness the event every day. It was spectacular some days when the clouds had parted after a severe storm. It was as if the sun wanted to make up for being lost from sight whilst the rain was falling, and seemed to go down in a brighter glory than usual.
The Lady of the castle had started screaming just after the break fast meal. Some of her treasures had disappeared and a ransacking of all rooms began. The castle was searched from top to bottom. There was such an upheaval that everyone's tasks had to be set aside whilst the search continued. That meant that the meals were late, the meat was underdone and tongue-lashings were passed on from cook to kitchen boy and all in-between, including Grinndle who never went above the Main Hall. It was finally realised that a shifty servant belonging to the current Guest had found his way upstairs and helped himself to our Lady's jewels and trinkets, tossing them in a water pot to hide them whilst the search was held; later retrieving them and making his escape. A man was dispatched to seek out the servant who had been seen walking over the drawbridge at an odd time. The Master had spoken to his Guest, Lord Dopante who had immediately drawn his sword to dispatch the offender.
When caught and brought back to face the Master, he pleaded for mercy saying he could not help himself, they were such pretty baubles. His own Master took swift retribution and more blood had to be cleaned up. The offending hand was thrown in the courtyard fire, the man's wrist seared to stem the flow, then he was tossed into the moat.
Grinndle was upset, not for the man as he had had his just desserts, but for the cook who was shouted at because the food had been almost ruined. Life was beginning to return to normal, though the evening meal would be late. To keep the Lords happy whilst waiting for the feast, Grinndle had worked extra hard to please them, tumbling far more than he normally did and hurt his shoulder on the hard flags; juggling four items at once instead of three (something he had been practising); riding one or more of the dogs; capering over the tables and doing cartwheels. The Master and Lord Dopante laughed out loud whilst the Ladies smiled, their ruffles smoothing over as the performance progressed.
Now the meat was ready, the sun had set and it was again time for Grinndle to be a part of the meal time jollity. He tossed the hay stem, gathered his accoutrement and set off for the Main Hall and his nightly games.
Β© Copyright Evelyn J. Steward. October, 2002.

Words 860


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Publication Date: 11-11-2010

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