31st October 1102

Igrayne plunged her hands into the steaming water. They slid below the surface, hidden momentarily beneath a haze of steam. When they reappeared she could see them magnified, pink and chapped from years of hard work. She was unpleasantly reminded that they were not hands becoming of a lady’s maid. Perhaps she had risen above her status as scullion, but the rough skin on her hands would never let her forget from where she had come.

Sweat prickled her brow as she bent over the bucket, sighing in exasperation as one finely woven sleeve slid partially under the water. She pulled it out, ringing the excess moisture from the heavy material and shaking the remaining clinging droplets from her hands. These were not the sort of sleeves that could be pushed roughly up to the elbows so as not to hinder her tasks.

“Well if that don’t smell delicious Gena then yew can be callin’ me a turkey an’ pluckin me fer dinner”, Polina exclaimed heartily.

“Thankin’ yew Polina dear”, Gena replied with a beam, “I do hope it tastes the same”.

She bent down to check the meaty stew that was bubbling above the smoking fire. Her deft hands found the spoon where it was sitting on the side of the stove and plunged it deep into the pot, stirring vigorously.

Igrayne wondered that she didn’t burn herself, but Gena’s swift hands never once came close to the fire, nor to the scalding heat of the blackened pot.

“Yew do keep a good house here Gena”, Polina continued her praise, “I do believe it’s bein’ that important fer a man to have a good wife such as yerself. Someone with a bit of experience who knows how to keep a kitchen good an’ proper”.

Igrayne continued rubbing her hands dry as Gena replied, her voice muffled as she rummaged deep in the cupboard, “Oh that is sure an’ certain Polina, though I don’t think anyone’s running a kitchen as well as yew”.

“Oh, that’s not true”, Polina replied breezily, “Illewen is bein’ just as capable as me, if not more so”.

Igrayne glanced over at Illewen who was not looking particularly capable at all. She was leaning heavily against the wall, staring blankly ahead. She reminded Igrayne of a discarded doll she had once found as a child.

The doll had been beautiful, with raven dark hair and a painted face. Igrayne had found her slumped against a stall in the food market, discarded by some thoughtless child. She had retrieved the doll, carefully wiping the smudges of dirt from her pale face, tucking her deep into the folds of her jacket. For many nights the doll, Mary Igrayne had called her, had stayed hidden beneath the thin blankets in Igrayne’s bed. Every night when she crawled beneath the covers, Mary had lain, tangled in her arms, her startled face pressed against Igrayne’s sleeping body. When they had discovered Mary they had taken her away, while Igrayne received a sound beating for stealing. She felt a brief pang for the little girl who had so desperately needed someone to love and then she almost cried because nothing had changed.

“Igrayne”, she heard Polina’s voice rasping behind her.

She quickly composed her face and spun around to face her, “Yes Pol, what is it you’re wanting?”

“Nothing important dear, just wanted to be seeing how yer face is healing up”, she reached up a hand and softly stroked the rough skin beside Igrayne’s eye.

Igrayne fought the urge to shrink away from her prying hands as though they were roughly opening the ties of her dress and stripping her bare for everyone to see. The kitchen felt hot and close, the heady scent of the meaty stew filling her nostrils and turning her stomach. Her face was flushing red and her dress suddenly felt tight and constrictive. She took a slow, deep breath waiting for what would come next.

“Well it’s not bein’ so bad is it. Yew certainly don’t look the same as before, but I suppose yer still pretty enough”.

Tears began to well up in Igrayne’s eyes and she desperately tried to force them back. She would not let herself cry in front of Polina.

“Knock knock, can we be comin’ in”, the door swung wide to reveal Steen and Hepsie carrying little Thaell.

Igrayne smiled at her in relief. The one person who could always remind her that life went on after bad things happened was Hepsie.

“Hello Hepsie”, she said softly.

“Well hello my lovely kitten, now how are yew doin’. Just hang on a minute till I be getting’ rid of this lump an’ I’ll give yew a kiss. Hello Pol, oh Illewen dear, didn’t see yew back there. Gena, what be yew doin’ in that cupboard, come over here an’ give yer Hepsie an’ this fat baby a kiss”.

“Hello ladies”, Steen grinned as Gena rushed over to greet Hepsie.

“Hepsie! Look what sort of a party we be havin’ here tonight?”

“Yes, I can see that. But where’s that birthday boy so I can be givin’ him my best wishes”, Hepsie asked surveying the room, “Are yew hidin’ him in that cupboard over there”.

“Oh no”, Gena giggled, “Noah an’ Arran are just settin’ up the table out back. We’re eatin’ outside since it’s bein’ so warm. Isn’t that fun now?”

“Well, that does sound fun. So where can I be puttin’ this little mite so we can’ get to the celebrating?”

“Oh, we can just be puttin’ him in with Derrin. He’s already asleep”.

“Alright love, let’s get him to bed an’ then we can head outside. Yew ladies should be goin’ an’ joining the men an’ we’ll be right there”.

“We’ll see yew out there then”, Polina called, already tying her cloak, “Come on Wen”.

Igrayne grabbed her cloak, struggling momentarily with the ties and followed Polina and Illewen outside.

Cade, Shildfrith, Ulcar