Depravity (A Beastly Tale Book 1)(21)

Inside, I viewed my work from the day before with satisfaction. On the  butcher's block in the middle of the kitchen a note lay waiting next to a  plate with cheese, bread, and a cup of cold spring water.

Eat and rest before you continue your work on the kitchen.

I set my bag beside the plate and drank deeply. Then I looked around the  kitchen, wondering what else he would have me clean, until I spotted  the four doors in the kitchen which had been locked the day before. All  now stood ajar. The first led to a long room lined with three beds. Dust  coated everything. The next door led to a hall. Walking the hall, I  came to a set of steps set in the left wall. They led down into pitch  black, and a cold draft drifted up to swirl around my ankles. I kept  walking and found a door to the right that led to a linen closet.  Everything in that room looked white and new, except again, for a fine  dusting. The door at the end of the hall remained locked though I saw no  keyhole.                       
       
           



       

Turning back, I retraced my steps to the kitchen. There, I took my bag  to the servant's quarters and quickly changed before exploring the other  doors off of the kitchen. One long room held a variety of foods, all  looking surprisingly fresh. The next led to a small study filled with  shelves of books. Curious, I plucked a book from its perch and opened it  to find a page detailing how to dress and stuff a quail. Books on how  to cook. What a splendid idea. Reluctantly, I replaced the book and  returned to the main kitchen.

Though, I'd done a fair job, the hearth still needed attention. Squaring my shoulders, I set to work.

An hour later, I had removed the ash and brushed the stone clean. It  hadn't been as dirty as I'd thought. I set new kindling down, ready to  light should anyone have a need, and picked up the final bucket of ash.  Outside, as I dumped it a few steps from the door in the overgrown  weeds, I noted a swirling mass of dark fog rolling my way.

I hurried back inside and moved to the water I'd pumped after emptying  the first bucket of ash. The wind had taken the dark powder and dusted  me generously. By letting the water sit for an hour, I could use it  without shivering. I quickly washed my hands and face. The door opened  when I had a towel pressed to my face for drying.

When I opened my eyes, I could only see faint outlines of the objects in  the now familiar kitchen. The shadow of the beast paced on four legs  just inside the door. His back easily stood as high as my shoulders. I  could make out little else about him. Yet, what little I saw was enough  to make my knees weak. I rather liked the mist.

"You made better progress yesterday," he said with a low rumble.

I frowned at him.

"The work yesterday was easier." He grunted in response. "I'll just go pick my tomatoes and be on my way."

"Will you stay, Benella?" he asked quietly, confusing me.

Hadn't he just complained about my work? I was reluctant to keep giving  him the same answer he'd received so poorly in the past yet had no  reason to answer differently.

"I cannot," I said.

He whirled about and left with a roar. Gradually, sun began to filter  back into the room. Near the door lay just enough tomatoes to fill my  bag. I rushed to change and used my dirty clothes to cushion between the  layers of the soft red orbs.

When I reached the gate, the beast's mist surrounded me again, forcing me to stop walking.

"Tomorrow, there will be meat if you return. As much as you can carry home in return for an hour of cleaning."

I knew I would sell the majority of the tomatoes since they didn't last  long. The coin could buy meat, or it could be used to buy more milk and  oats. I nodded in agreement, and the mists lifted enough that I set off  for home.

As I had the day before, I arrived before anyone else. When Bryn  returned she exclaimed over the tomatoes but didn't question how I'd  obtained them; and I, in return, didn't ask her where she'd been.

* * * *

Since moving, I slept in Father's bed and he in his chair, as there was  no room for me in with my sisters. He made very little noise when he  rose and hadn't yet woken me. However, exhausted from my day's work, I'd  fallen asleep early. Even the slightest noise would have woken me the  following morning.

Laying in the dark, I listened to him dress then walk out the back door.  When I heard the scrape of the bucket as he lowered it for water, I  quickly rose from bed, dressed, then once again crawled under the  covers. I wanted to respect Father's unspoken wish to keep where he  taught private, yet his secrecy worried me. Bryn and Blye's secrecy I  could accept. It was part of who they were. But, Father had never kept  secrets before.

He quietly reentered the cottage but didn't eat. He only washed and  grabbed his materials for the day before leaving via the front door.

Flipping back the covers, I quickly eased the front door open and set to following him.

He headed toward the center of town, passed the Head's house, then  slowed before the house of the Whispering Sisters. There, he went to the  back door and nodded to the guard standing there. The guard started to  nod in return, but then caught sight of me. Father turned and saw me  standing half hidden behind a tree.

Even from this great distance, I saw his shoulders slump. I stepped out  from my hiding place but remained near the tree as he turned to walk  toward me. My heart went out to him. He was a moral man and didn't  understand how a woman could go into such a trade. We'd talked about it  at length on several occasions during a family dinner. I knew the  lectures were to help us, his daughters, stay innocent for our future  husbands.

That he'd taken a position in the house of the Whispering Sisters to  educate the women there must bother him a great deal. And I knew why  he'd done it. To remove me from Konrall. To keep me safe.                       
       
           



       

When he stood before me, his guilty eyes met mine.

"Benella, I-"

"Didn't eat breakfast. You can't keep doing that. I see the weight you  are losing. Without you, I have no one, Father." His eyes widened in  surprise. "Do they offer you food?"

He slowly shook his head, and I knew I'd puzzled him by not asking why he went there.

"Then tell the man at the door I'll be back with food for you." He  opened his mouth to protest. "I won't go in. I'll just hand it to him.  Eat it all."

Before he could object, I spun away toward the market district. There, I  bought three pastries with the coin I had left from the prior day. I  ate one pastry myself and handed two to the very stoic looking guard at  the back door.

"The second one's for you if you'll ensure my father eats his portion," I said.

The man's lips twitched slightly, and I hoped that meant he agreed. I thanked him then went on my way.

The walk through the market street was peaceful so early in the morning  with only the scents of baking bread to keep me company. The mill lay  silent as I passed it and started my trek over the bridge.

When I reached the edge of the estate, I checked the traps I'd left  overnight and was disheartened to see they remained empty. The bait I'd  placed was gone. I took them down and headed into the estate.

Instead of a note, a large stag waited on the butcher block, along with  an empty barrel and a burlap bag of salt. I frowned at it all. I'd  watched Bryn put up salted meat when I was younger but had no idea about  the particulars.

Going to the office, I paged through the books for over an hour before I  found one talking about salted pork. Shrugging, I used that as a guide  to butcher as best I could. I was used to skinning and cleaning small  animals. A larger one proved more time consuming and messy. Blood dotted  my clothes and smeared my forearms. Before I was halfway through, I lit  the fire to start water heating. I would need to wash out my shirt.

Soon the barrel was full of meat, salt, and brine. I tapped the lid in  place and strained to move it to the food pantry. There I found waxed  cloth which I used to package the remaining meat I meant to carry home.  The large carcass glistening on the butcher's block daunted me. I had no  idea what to do with it. I couldn't just dump it outside the door as I  had with the ash and debris.

"Sir," I called politely, thinking the title better than beast. "What am I to do with the remains?"

A dark mist swirled into the kitchen almost immediately, and I listened  to the scrape of his feet on the floor. I wondered if he'd been so close  all along. A few rustles of movement and then silence. The mist only  lasted a moment and when it cleared, the carcass was gone, leaving only  the bloodstained block.

I scrubbed the surface with a brush I found then rinsed the top  thoroughly. My arms grew tired from all of the water I needed to pump.  Finally, I moved to the heated water and poured it into the large tub  along with some cold water. Having been foolish once, I wasn't about to  bathe again. Instead, I stripped from my shirt, knowing my bindings hid  the important bits, and washed my arms and face. My shirt went into the  dirty water. As I was rinsing it, the mists returned. I wasn't  surprised.