The Female Knight

Chapter Four- Barley and Belly Achers

"So Arnulf, have you heard that my daughter makes clothes for the village peasants? I tell her that they aren't worth it, but she is so kind hearted and blah blah blah, my daughters perfect for you, blah blah blah."
The lady Helena continued on like this for the next five minutes as trays of many sorts were placed upon the table.
There were many asortments to choose from. The Volknars were a wealthy barony, producing many years of bountiful crops had enlarged the lords purse, allowing his wife to indulge. Shellfish from the north, game from the woods that surrounded the eastern edge of the barony, including many kinds of foul. The food was sweetened with honey and seasoned finely with ginger and saffron. The most common foods were that of pig under belly and wheat.
As the table was set, Veronica watched Arnulf gawk at the array of food. "Where do you get such strange creatures?" He questioned, examining a piece of shellfish.
"My father is on good trading terms with the northern kingdoms." She responded.

Veronica's father noticed Arnulf's admiration of the food and beamed. "Do you like them? As a young lord in the navy, I came to good terms with a clan of Vikings that eat many sorts of sea creatures." Her father had many such stories, and she loves hearing the tales of Vikings that he encountered.
They were such an interesting people, and what more, they respected each gender. Along with Vikings, he also told of old battle wounds, or friends that died here and there. He talked of the ever so rare tournaments and maidens that swooned.
Her father himself in late years has grown older, and sicker. The amount he exercised decreased each day, and a cane made of old oak supported him. The main cause of this, though, was a war wound that prevented his former physical vitality from appearing. But his spirit remained, and that's what she cared for.
She was startled out of her musings by a door slamming, and with a glance saw that her ancient, grizzled grandmother had entered the room, supported on a small chair borne by strong footmen. She wore light robes that allowed her comfort, and had a face that made a grown man eat his vegetables.
The former baroness was seated on Veronica's right, and as she was settled, began a critical eye on the food until she spotted what she was looking for. "You there! Yes, you! Get me that bowl. No, not that one you churlish clout. Yes, that one. Someone, get me the goats milk. Good. Now, leave before I tan ur hide." The churlish clout in question scurried to do as she bid, presenting her with a bowl of barley and the afore mentioned milk.
"Good morn, mother dear. How was your sleep?" The Baron asked heaitantly, a tinge of respect and fear for the woman who raised him.
"Fine enough. Who's this one?" These last words were directed at Arnulf, who preceded to swallow.
Veronica's mother stretched a smile on her face and introduced him. "Dear mother, this is lord Arnulf Berkehart, our guest."
"Hmmmph. Well, he better not be another belly acher, or I'll mash my barley in his face." With that remark, she started on the very barley she threatened Arnulf with.
Under his breath, Arnulf whispered, "Your grandmother seems.........nice."
"She's the only person with sense around here. It's actually refreshing."
"Ummm, sure. Refreshing. Let's go with that." His words induced a fit of giggles, that made Veronica's mother give her a nod of approval.
-----------------------------------------------------------
Once the food was finished, Arnulf and his entourage took their leave, and Veronica watched a curious scene that gave her suspicions about Arnulf's chosen woman. Before he had left, she was returning to her rooms when she witnessed Arnulf gently kissing her maids hand. Sophie's hand.
Of course, she had known that Helena's former employers had been friends with the Berkeharts. But hadn't suspected that. Oh well, she supposed Sophie deserved happiness too.
   As the carriage pulled away from the manor, her grandmother waddled up beside her. While her walking was impaired, the sole reason she had entered so dramatically was to show who was the master of the manner.
And whoever disagreed with that was, indeed, a clout.

So how was this one, mylords and ladies? So sorry for the wait, but I simply have run low on time. So what's the word on her feisty grandmother? And what about Helena's secret love. Comment, vote, enjoy.
Awaiting next time,
Amber