Page 43 of Shadowlands Omega

“The next blood moon will be in four weeks’ time. It would be appropriate to host the festival then. Though it seems far, it’s going to be tight with the chaos in the kitchens.”

“What will you need to enable the Omega’s family to preside over the meal? The meal is the centerpiece of the festival, of course.”

“Of course.” Radmilla blinks at me as if she’s never seen me before in her life. “In addition to clean stores, the kitchens are rather out of date. If we could allow in some contraband equipment from the North Island,” she says on a whisper, “the kitchens could be prepared to accommodate the influx of food needed to supply the Red Moon Festival. As it stands now, the uhmm…traditional nature of the kitchen would render it impossible for the Ubutu family to preside over the full meal. We could, of course, outsource some of the preparations, but I don’t doubt that it would be seen by Kiandah’s family as an insult.”

“You think you’re rather clever, don’t you, Radmilla?”

She’s trying to fight a smile and look at me with innocence in her light green eyes. “Whatever do you mean, my Lord?”

“You know how I feel about the old ways.” I admire and stick to them, short of a few exceptions. Kitchens have never been among them, but I suppose that is a rather flawed way of thinking as I do not cook anything. “You know how I feel about the North Islanders and their precious technologies.” Their technologies are only meant to divide and conquer, all in the name of efficiency. They don’t even meet one another’s gazes anymore on the North Island, hiding as they do behind screen after screen.

“I know, my Lord. But modern plumbing andsafercooking practices are common staples of many South Island homes. To ask the most important cooks in the region to use fire and brimstone when they could use industrial grade North Island ovens and stoves to prepare food for hundreds of people is not unthinkable. The Lords who came before you will forgive you.”

“I care little for their forgiveness. They were madmen, the lot.” I rake my hand down my face, some of my earlier enthusiasm deflating at this change in topic. “And how quickly could you source such appliances?”

“Faster than you care to know, my Lord.”

“Fine. You know who to speak to for coin.” I don’t like that at all, but I do not want to know more. “And how many builders can be spared? I want it up and running within the next ten days so that preparation for the festival can begin.”

“I should be able to spare five builders from the southern highway lines. And that won’t be a problem at all. There is also the question of the cooks themselves.”

“Yes?”

“The Ubutu family was previously aided by over a dozen more cooks. Right now, they do all of the cooking among themselves. They are too few for everyday cooking if they are expected to feed the entire keep — your Riders are not small men and women — and they are far too few hands to manage the entire festival, particularly given that Kiandah is the one who comes up with most of their meal plans and many of their recipes and it does not seem you intend to give her back to them.”

“I do not.”

Radmilla is smiling, though the corners of her lips are pinched as she clearly tries not to. “So, how would you like to proceed then, my Lord? Many of those who worked with the Ubutu family in the kitchens were detained and released after questioning.”

I pinch the bridge of my nose, my pace slowing. “How many are needed?”

“If Kiandah is no longer working full time, then perhaps we start with the eight that were detained and released…”

“You said there were a dozen or more.”

“Yes, but some did not survive the church fire.”

The church fire. My nostrils flare. “See about hiring an additional fifteen to seventeen for the kitchens.”

“Fifteen, my Lord?” She shakes her head. “Lord Talbot will not be happy with that.”

“Particularly when you tell him to increase their wages.”

“Wages?” Radmilla’s voice goes up shrilly at the end. “You mean for the new kitchen staff, not for the Ubutu family…”

“I mean for them all. You know as well as I do that keeping the Ubutu family caged in my kitchens forever will not work. It is not the way things are done. Prisoners are kept in the dungeons or not at all.”

The frown that crosses her face as we enter the south wing tightens the muscles across my chest. It is cooler here. Most of the castle is split into two levels except for the south and southeast wings, which are split into three. The lowermost level of the southeast wing is the lower dungeon where the Omega’s family was kept, but only briefly, but in the south wing, the lowermost level is occupied by servants’ quarters that haven’t been used in two decades.

They are half underground and as I take the double helix staircase down to this lower level, the sound of clanging and clashing fills my ears. I follow the sounds of chaos to the end of the hall, which splits into a T. To the left, I hear singing, and when I step into the center of the intersection, I see fractured daylight filtering in through the slits that older generations called windows.

“Omegas say boom…” comes the cry from down the hall. I follow it towards the old palace kitchens, wondering if I’ve ever even been down here before. Maybe once, when I was a boy? No, not even then.

The corridor feels devoid of life, the stone walls and floor bare and free of decoration. Such a contrast to the vibrancy of the voices echoing within them. “What are you…” Radmilla’s stopped walking at the T junction.

I turn to look back at her. “Yes?”

“You plan to free them?”

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