First Lessons (A Medieval Tale #1)

Chapter 3, part 1

Aliya threw open the door to the kitchen and smiled sweetly at the servants sitting around the table. The four women and seven men were having a terrific time drinking wine out of large glasses, laughing, and gossiping. She had seen three of the men before when they brought in her tub and hot water. The others were strangers.

All of them were up to no good, of that much she was sure. Aliya knew just how much work was needed to clean a small apartment; in a castle this size, there shouldn't be time to sit around telling jokes. One of the men had his hands all over the knees of the woman sitting next to him. Aliya wondered if she was responsible for paying for family leave when her servant girls got pregnant. She would have to find out.

♦

Aliya took a deep breath and barked, "You idle, good-for-nothing, time-wasting freeloaders! Did you think I was too fancy to come down here? You were wrong!"

She scanned the servants' faces. The oldest woman was probably the cook. The only man dressed in a color other than pink (he was wearing blue) was most likely the Comptroller. She could tell by the young girls' faces that they were chambermaids. The girl whose knee had a man's hand on it was blushing. If she got any redder, her cap would burst into flames. The three young men with hay in their hair and a barnyard stench about them must be the grooms. The others were house servants.

Aliya was sorry she didn't know any of their names, but she wouldn't let that stop her. She could get to know them while giving them an earful. "You've let things go while I was ill, but I'm back on my feet, and I don't like what I see. This place is covered with dirt, dust and spider webs. We have enough spiders in here to start selling silk. Now, you three grooms, get up!"

The boys leaped to their feet.

"You're lucky to still have your jobs for today. By tomorrow, I want the stables to shine. Haul out the manure, get rid of the spider webs and brush down all the horses. I'll check your work tomorrow, and if you don't do it right, you'll be cleaning each horse's ass with your own gossiping tongue. Now get out of here!"

She ""turned to the cook. "My dear, I don't like your kitchen for the same reasons. The pots aren't washed, the tables are covered with crumbs, and you let the servants hang out in here drinking my wine and doing God knows what else." She turned back to the servants. "And you there, with the pie-face. Get your lecherous hand off that girl's knee before I rip it off along with your head."

The man's name was Jean, and the girl of "easy virtue," was Mary. He blushed and snatched his hand away. Aliya sneered at him and looked back at the object of his affections, "Honey," she said in a poisonously sweet voice, "you and the cook will be busy in the kitchen today. You have until this evening to get the dishes sparkling and clean out the ovens. And you," she pointed at another servant girl, "will clean out the fireplaces in the whole house. I want them all clean as a whistle, just like the conscience of our Comptroller here."

Judging by how the Comptroller twitched when she said that, his conscience was none too clean. Aliya decided to leave him for dessert.

She turned back to the cook. "I will not let you turn my home into a brothel." She hit all the right notes like she meant it. "If I ever see something like this again, you'll be out of a job." She looked back at the floor. "Sweep out this straw and make the floor shine. Don't bother making lunch today, and just make something simple for dinner. I don't want any more of these twelve-course meals."

She turned to two chambermaids, "You two, grab your buckets and rags and follow me. You'll be cleaning all the rooms in the castle, starting with my room. And you can re-clean everything you supposedly cleaned yesterday. I've seen how lazy you are. We'll need one man to go with us. You'll be bringing water from the well for these ladies to clean with. Heat it here in the kitchen in the largest pot."

"Get some firewood!" the cook shouted at the man.

"Go get it yourself," Aliya replied. "It won't kill you. Otherwise, you're out of here tomorrow morning."

"My Lady," she heard someone say in a timid voice. It was the Comptroller. He had been sitting quietly through Aliya's tirade but felt he had to say something when his wife was threatened. "Your husband instructed me that during his absence..."

Aliya turned to face him. She was a large woman now, and she intended to use her size to good effect. "Did you interrupt me?" Her voice slithered like a snake through the leaves. If I bite you, there isn't enough anti-venom in this whole world to save you!

"Since you are the Comptroller," she continued, "you can give me a detailed explanation of how the estate has sunk to this level. I have been too lenient with you, and my husband does not have time to watch your every move. I want to see you in the office. Bring all your reports for the past year—everything you've bought and sold, crops, supplies, everything. Is that clear?"

The Comptroller swallowed nervously and said nothing, which was smart. One wrong word from him and Aliya would have hit him over the head with a pot—not in anger, just to teach him a lesson.

She was the boss, and her word was the law. Anyone who had a problem with that or voiced doubt about her authority would have his head handed to him...instantly. So, the Comptroller was wise to keep his mouth shut. Even thieves have an instinct for self-preservation.

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