The Angel Wore Fangs(37)

“We got a hundred and ten people ta feed here,” Girda said defensively. “Not ta mention the village starvelings what come up to beg fer food every day. Even though some folks would refuse them even crumbs from the table.” Her condemnation was clearly directed at Cnut.

Who blushed.

Odd! Did Girda blame Cnut for the starving people?

“All of the pears and dried fruits are gone, along with most of the nuts. Got a barrel of shriveled apples. Lots of cabbages, but the only root vegetables left in any amount are neeps. We got a whole bin full of neeps because nobody likes the buggers,” Finn went on, and ducked his head at Andrea in apology at his rude word.

She’d heard lots worse in the kitchens where she’d worked. Lots! And what was wrong with turnips? She liked them.

“Ain’t but a tun of ale left and no mead. Finn, who has become trollsome of late, if ye ask me, has kept the last of that under lock and key.” Girda glared at Finn again.

He didn’t even flinch.

“Your men are drinking water now, or milk from the three milch cows and four goats what are left, thanks ta guards kept at the barn night and day. We still have enough fer butter and cheese. You know what happened ta yer horse, dontcha, master?”

He nodded, a grim expression on his face.

Andrea guessed that the horse must have been killed for meat. She could understand that if the people were starving.

“We also have fish out in the smokehouse but not nearly enough to last the winter,” Finn went on. “Large trout and bass and cod. Plus herrings aplenty, and even a small shark. And salt pork aplenty. But the eel barrel is empty, and not a single seabird or pigeon.”

Girda said, “We do gots some chickens, though, four dozen at least in the coop, but they’s mostly laying hens, and I ain’t putting them in the pot, lessen I got no choice. Guards are there, too, to keep out wolves and thieves. We need the eggs. I’d like ta kill that bloody rooster, though. Meaner than a cross-eyed cat with the shits.”

“Don’t you need a rooster for the hens to lay eggs?” asked Andrea.

“No, the hens only need roosters if they want chicks. Jist like people. Women don’t need men unless they wants babies.” Girda gave Cnut and Finn direct looks, daring them to disagree with her.

Not a chance. They both remained silent, though Cnut did wink at Andrea behind Girda’s back and said, “Some people say the lady chicks are more fertile just having a manly rooster around.”

“Must have been a man who said that,” Andrea commented.

“I’m just sayin’.” Cnut grinned at Andrea.

A commotion could be heard back in the kitchen, and Girda made a sound of disgust. “Odin’s eyeballs! You show ’im the rest, Finn. I gotta get these slugabeds aworking if we’re ta have any dinner this eve.”

And off the cook went, shouting orders here and there.

“Bjorn, build up the scullery fire.

“Bodil, get the kettles boiling fer laundry.

“Dotta, sort out the smallclothes from the braies and the tunics and don’t let me hear any complaints about the smell, either.

“Tumi, bring in some firewood. What splinter? I’ll give you a splinter, you lazy sod!

“Why aren’t those rushes raked in the scullery yet? Loki’s liver! Do I hafta do everything?”

Her voice trailed off, and Cnut and Finn exchanged looks that pretty much said, Oh well!

Andrea had so many questions, but Finn was unlocking another door, and Cnut held a torch as they followed him down the steps to what was a root cellar. Very, very cold. Damp and dirt-smelling.

Andrea shivered, and Cnut said, “We’ll just be down here for a few minutes.”

Skinless animal carcasses, covered with green mold, hung from the ceiling like trophies in a macabre serial killer’s den. Several deer, a hog, a few rabbits, and various other animals she couldn’t identify. It was here the turnips and cabbages and some stray carrots and onions were stored.

When they were back upstairs amid the bustle of the laundry and the kitchen, where at least a dozen servants were now working industriously, Cnut asked Finn, “Bottom line, how bad are things?”

“A sennight, two at most, if we continue to dole out some food to the cotters, and I don’t care what you say, master, I could not turn them away.”

“You must think me a selfish bastard based on past behavior,” Cnut said. “You were right to do so, Finn.”

“Keep in mind, it’s less than a month until Jól. Some yule season we will be celebrating this year!” Finn continued.

“Things will be different now.” Cnut patted Finn on the shoulder.

Cnut looked at her then and added, “If it’s not too late.”