Deeds of Honor by Elizabeth Moon Read Free Book Online Page A

and thumped the loaves. Another short while...back in it went. "Clean up this mess," she said to the others. "We've got travel bread to make and supplies to pack." Travel bread, hard, flat sheets, had an easy dough; no waiting for yeast to rise. She started the dough, setting the others to slice cheese and sausage into the right sizes for saddlebags, and was rolling it out when Lady Verrakai came in with her grandson. Everyone stopped and made their bows, including Farin.
    "How long?" Lady Verrakai asked.
    "It's just ready to bake now, milady," Farin said. "Takes half a ladyglass to bake for a short trip, a full ladyglass to last more than five days."
    "Five days is enough," her grandson said.
    "No. You cannot be sure," Lady Verrakai said. He opened his mouth; Farin tried to watch without being obvious. What would the lady do? What would he do? He shut his mouth again.
    "A ladyglass, then," Lady Verrakai said. She glanced at the one on the kitchen shelf; it lifted in the air, turned upside down, and the sand inside began running through it. "Into the oven with those."
    "Yes, milady," Farin said, with another curtsey. She slid the peel under the dough, then swung it around as Jaim pulled the oven cover aside.
    * * * *
    By the time the travel bread came out of the oven, all the cheese and sausage and honeycakes were packed, each in a rolled cloth, and Farin had the wrappings for the bread ready as well. A count of ten after that, the steward arrived, demanding the food; Farin pointed to the loaded table. "Where should we take it?"
    "Not you, Cook," he said. He gestured, and two men dressed in the Verrakaien militia uniform strode in, picked up the baskets and walked out. "Clean this up!" the steward said, waving to the kitchen.
    "Yes, Steward," Farin said, nodding. To her helpers, she said "They'll be wanting midday meal soon enough, and we need rusks for the children's supper."
    The rest of that day she felt always a step behind, as the missed sleep and the bruises wore on her, but she managed to finish the day's work without another beating.
    Cooking for the women and children was a much lighter task than for the full household, and in the next hand of days Farin recovered her own strength and made headway on preparing for the men's return. Once a day, sometimes twice, Lady Verrakai or the duke's brother's widow appeared in the kitchen door and stood watching. Farin made sure the kitchen looked busy from dawn to well after dinner. Nothing was out of place longer than it was in use; no spills left unwiped, no dirty dishes left stacked.
    When that hand of days passed, and the men had not returned, other servants in the house began to ask Farin if she had heard anything. She shushed them and sent them away. The wives and widows would not tolerate gossiping, she knew. But she wondered. The lad had thought five days' enough...well, in this season, any journey could take an extra day or so.
    Then it was two hands of days since the men had left. Then three. One early morning Efla broke down crying; Farin pushed her into the dry pantry next to the ovens, where meal and dry beans and the like were stored. "Will you hush! Do you want a beating like I had? What is wrong?"
    "I—I didn't bleed," Efla said.
    Farin aimed what she hoped was a potent curse in the direction of the young lord, imagining arrows falling from the sky, spears thrust from the side. "You might lose it," she said.
    "I—I want birthbane."
    "Hush! You know it's forbidden here!"
    "But—"
    "No. Do not ask. It is not for us, their servants. You can—" What could she, what would she do? Farin's own child, taken away at birth, supposedly fostered somewhere...might be, she knew, dead. She did not even know if it had been a boy or girl. "You can do nothing," she said. "We must endure."
    "I can't...I want to die..."
    Farin closed her eyes a moment. She had felt that despair and that terror, but she had known—from early—that she had something of her own, a place, a way to