Carack

Carack Ch 13 p3

Oswaldo’s face was as black as thunder, the boar was clearly burnt on one side, while still almost raw on the other, Oswald grabbed Gerent by the ear and dragged him to the boar so that his nose almost touched it.

‘See! See what you’ve done! And where is that precious sister of yours eh? Gone, that’s what gone! Run off! Trying to see the king and tipping her tray all over the floor! Mages with bears, disappearing sisters, I treated that girl like my own and this is how she repays me! And you! Where have you been when you should have been here turning this spit? Wig bring me the rope, you’ll stay here and turn or I shall want to know why!’ Gerent tried to stammer out that he was sorry but Oswald just grabbed his wrists and tied him to the spit handle.

‘Turn!’ He commanded and cut Gerent across the back of the legs with a stick. Gerent’s legs buckled, but he saved himself from falling in the fire, he pushed and began slowly to turn the heavy spit.

Wig, who came and fed the fire, gave him sympathetic glances, but Gerent knew neither he nor Anita would interfere, he wondered what had happened to Euny, from what the chef had said Gerent did not think Euny had been captured or recognised. Surely, they wouldn’t, he hardly dare think it, they wouldn’t go and leave him, but he had been short with Brunnstan and Euny had reprimanded him for it. Gerent grew hotter and hotter over the fire and his turning grew slower. He felt he was melting down into the flames with every hiss of fat running off the huge boar carcass and landing in the drip tray below. Eventually his own tiredness and pains combined with the heat of the fire to make him feel he could not remain conscious any longer, he knew he would burn, but his legs could not support him further and he passed out.

Gerent was aware that he was hauled out of the kitchen as the cool air struck him. He felt himself being dragged across cobbles, heaved upward and over, then he was falling, falling. The landing was soft, if not squashy and as he dragged his eyes open he could smell a familiar rotting smell, he realised he was on the midden. High above him set in the stonewall Gerent could see the wooden hatch and he knew what usually came through it down on to the midden. He forced himself to roll to one side of the heap to avoid having slops tipped on top of him and he lay there in too much pain and too exhausted to go any further, thinking to himself that they had tossed him out like a piece of rubbish.

He wandered in and out of conciousness and knew he had to regain strength to get out of the midden as soon as possible. Madron’s words about Sancret, the king and himself jumble through his mind. He wondered why he was a walking corpse as Madron had put it.

He was roused from a daze when he felt himself lifted by a strong pair of arms and hoisted over a shoulder, he recognised it was Euny and said, ‘You didn’t leave me’

‘No’ was the short reply and Gerent closed his eyes knowing he was safe.

When he next opened them, he was in the wood, being tended by Brunnstan. He was applying salve to Gerent’s legs and forehead, he tried to sit but the Brownie stopped him saying:

‘Not yet Lordling, there’s some nasty burns here, but they’ll be alright by morning.’ Gerent wanted to speak but found his throat was dry, Brunnstan called Meendhu, who came and supported his head so he could drink.

‘There is no king,’ he croaked out as soon as he felt able to speak.

‘What?’ came Euny’s voice and Gerent repeated:

‘There is no king.’

‘How do you know?’ asked Euny and Gerent was about to reply when Meendhu said:

‘Na he needs rest, tomorrow is soon enough, we can hear all tomorrow and do what we must then. Tonight he needs rest.’ Gerent could not argue and hearing Brunnstan agree with Meendhu he let himself fall asleep again.

When he woke, Gerent felt stronger and was eager to tell what he had seen and heard. The others were stunned by what he had to say and Euny was impressed that Gerent had succeeded in getting into the king’s chamber. All of them saw the need to return to Widnbrea at once, Sancret would need them, they were fairly confident that N’zar’s army would be able to defend the castle, but none of them there knew what they now did. Meendhu was keen to be on his way and so they saddled the two horses at once and set off. Although Gerent felt better for the salve, he felt it had not worked as well as previously and Madron’s words ‘walking corpse’ kept coming back to him. He knew that Brunnstan could tell he was not fully recovered as during the day’s ride he asked Gerent several times if he was all right and Gerent always cheerily replied that he was, he did not want to cause any delays. The pace was brisk as they all felt the need to reach Widnbrea as soon as possible; they rode until after dark and started again before light. Each night Brunnstan put salve on Gerent’s chest and legs, the burns healed and yet each morning he felt no better, but he told Brunnstan confidently that he felt no worse either to relieve the Brownie’s anxious looks. Gerent felt as though a numbness was falling over him and he felt that the hard riding that they were doing tired him more than it should.