Will smiled at him. “So long as you clean yourself first. You are in no better condition than us.”
Raines studied himself and a small smile touched his lips. “I see what you mean, My Lord. I will be sure to change my clothes prior to cleaning the others. If you will excuse me.” He bowed his head and hurried to change.
My eyes lit up. “I’d better change mine before Vargas comes down or I’m going to be adding a little speck of mud to our lunch!”
I raced up the stairs and changed into some comfortable jeans and a blouse. Raines had returned in clean attire and the two men stood in the foyer with their heads close together and their voices low. My suspicions were aroused as I walked down the stairs and they ceased their conversation.
“What are you two plotting now?” I teased as I joined them.
Will chuckled. “Merely a scouting party should the Tenky fail to find anything amiss.”
“Would that find anything if the Tenky couldn’t?” I pointed out.
“We have few options left open to us other than to scour the area repeatedly,” Will countered.
“Speaking of scouring,” I mused as I studied his face and lowered my voice. “What was that about not telling Ware and the others about the eagles near the elf city?”
“Lord Ware has a rather bad habit of hunting creatures who give him true sport and the eagles are just such a creature,” Will explained as he pursed his lips. “I believe they escaped his interest many years ago and don’t desire to renew the acquaintance.”
“What doesn’t he hunt?” I wondered.
Will opened his mouth to reply but the bedroom door upstairs swung open and Vargas swept out into the hall with all the grace of an elephant. “I am prepared!”
The ‘appropriate’ attire looked like it belonged in a Victorian melodrama. She wore a form-hugging dress with many folds and with a buttress out the back. I could only imagine how painful was the corset that kept in all that dragon lady’s body. She also wore a pair of impressive heels that clacked loudly down the stairs.
Vargas swept past us and snatched my hand. “Now let us prepare a feast!”
I was whisked away and the last I saw of the two men, they had mischievous twinkles in their eyes. Et tu, Raines?
Vargas pulled me into the quaint kitchen with its firewood stove, cobblestone floor, and abundance of countertops. The best space was the island table in the center over which hung a myriad of pots and pans. A large chimney with an impressive hearth occupied five feet of one wall and could have roasted a whole pig.
Vargas let go of my hand and snatched an apron that hung near the door. She tied it about her person and spun around to face me. She placed her hands on her hips and looked me over. “How much experience do you have cooking?”
I shrugged. “I used to cook for myself but I haven’t really cooked for anyone else.”
She scoffed. “So hardly any experience at all! Well, we shall see what you can do with whisking some eggs.”
The first thing Vargas did was move over to the chimney. She inspected the kindling and pieces of wood that lay in the hearth ready for a firing, which is exactly what she did. The dragon noblewoman drew in a breath and spat out a fireball. The ball crashed into the fire and immediately caught fire, and soon a bright blaze burned in the hearth.
Vargas scooted over to the ice box and pantry, and I was soon put to work whisking together some eggs. I couldn’t help but watch as she prepared a soup. The dragon lady boiled some stock and chopped the vegetables using only a single long claw on her hand. She tossed the veggies into the boiling soup and went to work dashing some seasoning into the mix. The room soon began to smell delicious and the heat from both the hearth and the stove was soothing to my aching bones. I could also sit down on the high stools that surrounded the kitchen island which eased my sore feet.
Vargas bounced over to me and examined my progress before she nodded. “A good effort. Now whisk in two cups of flour and a pinch of salt, then a half cup of buttermilk and shape them into biscuits.”
I felt a little overwhelmed by the long list of instructions and reluctantly slid off my stool to fetch the ingredients. Vargas had returned to her soup and noticed my shambling efforts. “Go on! Hurry it up or this will take until supper time!”
I gathered up all my ingredients and some measuring devices and returned to my little spot. I could feel one of Vargas’ eyes on me as I tossed in the flour before I grabbed the salt. A pinch was a system of measurement I had never really grasped so I poured a little into the palm of my hand.
“Not like that!” Vargas scolded me as she scurried up to my side. She swatted my hand which poured the salt onto the table in a little pile. “Like this!” She pinched a little bit between two fingers and lifted the grains an inch off the table. My teacher rubbed her fingers together and the salt fell back to its companions. “Now you try.” I did as she had demonstrated and lifted two pinched fingers of salt. “Good. Now put it in the bowl.” I did as she requested and then she pushed the bottle of buttermilk closer to me. “Now this.”
Soon I had a bowl filled with all the ingredients but none of the mixing. I picked up the only utensil at hand, the whisk, but Vargas snatched it from me. “I need that!” I protested.
“Of course not!” she scolded me as she grabbed a wooden spatula and tucked it into my still-outstretched hand. “You need this. Now hurry and mix them before they start disagreeing with one another. Then use your hands to form them into little balls. I will fetch the pan.”
Vargas grabbed a pan and greased it while I did as she bid. Her eyes were ever on me judging my inexperienced work.
“Too little!” she scolded me. “Make them bigger or they will hardly be larger than a soup potato!”
I did as she commanded and set them together on the pan. Vargas stared at the neat little rows with a sharp eye. I half expected her to throw the whole lot out but she nodded.