The Ivory Star

Chapter 10

Eric and Angus stirred to the crowing of a cock and a shaft of sunlight from an open shutter.

A booted foot kicked Angus onto his side. "Up, up, up, you lazy oafs!" came a gravelly voice.

Angus grunted in surprise and outrage. Eric had just enough time to roll over and see him bluster to his feet and lash out with an angry fist at the yellow-haired giant with the amused smirk on his face. The giant caught Angus's fist in a vise-like grip, and with his own iron-knuckled projectile sent Angus sprawling back into the straw, where he lay motionless.

Eric knuckled his sleepy eyes as the giant flashed him a tooth-deficient grin. The giant said, "He threw first, I threw last." He ran sausage-like fingers through his straggling mop of straw-colored hair, and reached down with a hairy paw to help Eric to his feet. "Wake him up."

Eric found a bucket of water nearby, and with a mischievous grin dashed it over Angus's prostrate form.

Angus jerked upright, sputtering, shaking his head, and when his vision crystallized upon the giant, his eyes blazed with animal fury. Glee crossed the giant's unshaven face for but a moment, but then he raised a hand in warning. "Remember, old boy, you struck the first blow. I merely came to rouse you out o' bed. You men have work to do this fine morn."

Angus's fists clenched.

The giant raised a warning paw. "An' you try it again, I'll be forced to pound you." A hint of anticipation flickered in his ice-gray eyes for an instant, then he continued, "Come with me. Break your fast. Then you work. Oh, by the by, I am Tarl, Lord Valerion's house master. Come."

They followed him wordlessly. Eric slapped Angus lightly on the back as he rubbed his sore jaw. Tarl took them to the kitchen, and gave each of them two loaves of hard but fresh bread.

"What are those huge doors?" Eric asked, pointing past the milling cooks, over the preparation tables, toward the massive iron double doors filling the far wall of the kitchen.

"The entrance to the Keep."

"This place is impregnable," Angus marveled past a mouthful of bread.

Tarl nodded. "Aye it is. The outer ward has never been breached, much less the inner. Now, finish your bread. You'll need your strength." Eric and Angus tore quickly into the bread, and Tarl continued talking. "Follow me. Eat on the go. You've a full day ahead of you, mangy fellows. First, you'll clean the stables. Then you'll haul out the manure. After all that, I've a full cart o' wood on its way for you to split. No one eats my lord's food for nothing around here, by Tor's Teeth. You'll work your keep, sluggards, sleeping in 'til all hours of the day, while honest folk are already hard at work. Who the hell are you anyway? My lord isn't in the habit of sheltering vagabonds ..." He rambled on as he led them to the stable, and there he put wooden pitchforks in their hands and set them to work.

And work they did.

"This stinks," Eric complained.

Angus grunted his assent as he pitched mound of straw and horse-dung onto the pile they were steadily building.

They finished cleaning the stables about noon, when Tarl returned with two more loaves of bread and bucket full of water for them to drink from. As they munched hungrily, a cart laden with logs trundled into the courtyard, and Tarl gestured with his thumb. "That's next."

* * *

By dusk they had finished the wood. Eric's arms hung numbly like wet rags at his sides, limply holding the axe in his blistered fingers. He merely stood, slowly recovering his breath, gazing up at the multi-colored sky, seeing the Day Stars in the deepening purple of the west.