Page 54 of Forgotten Secrets (Secrets of the Heart 4)

Chapter 17

Morag made her way down to the kitchen the next morning to talk with the servants.

“Lady Morag,” said Agnes, the head cook. “What can I get for you?”

“Nothin’, Agnes,” said Morag, scanning the kitchen and the hustle and bustle of the morning bedlam. “I just decided to see how things were goin’ in the kitchen, that’s all.”

“Coming through, excuse me,” said a man carrying a large wooden paddle with uncooked loaves of bread. “Oh my pardons, my lady, I did not see you.”

“It’s all right. Go ahead.” Morag continued to talk with Agnes. “I bet it’s a lot of work, cookin’ for so many people since Lady Ernestine insists on feedin’ all the knights and their squires camped outside the gate.

“Aye, it’s terrible. I told my lady that we needed more help. So she invited some of the villagers into the kitchen to cook.”

“There are new people in here?”

“Aye, many.” The woman ground herbs with a mortar and pestle. “Can you hand me a knife, Lady Morag?”

“Of course,” she said, turning around to get a knife from the block of wood. Her eyes caught on something shiny, half-hidden under a cloak thrown over a bench. Curious, she walked over and moved the cloak to find a thin, sharp, double-edged blade. She held it up to inspect it.

“Nay, not that,” called Agnes from the other side of the table. “I would never use a knife like that to prepare food. That is more for hunting and gutting carcasses. Bring me the smaller one please.”

Before Morag could do as asked, a man rushed over and snatched the knife from her, sticking it into his waist belt. “Don’t touch that,” he growled.

“That’s Lady Morag, have some respect,” spat Agnes, peering over the table.

“My many pardons, my lady,” said the man with slight bow. “I wasn’t aware there was a lady in the kitchen.”

“It’s an honest mistake,” she said, watching as the man hurried to the other side of the room, looking back at her over his shoulder. “Agnes, who was that?” she asked curiously.

“He’s one of the fools here helping out. I’ve never seen him before, so I am guessing he is a servant of one of the visiting knights.”

“Is he any good at preparin’ food?”

“Nay. He’s ruining all our meat with his obnoxious blades. He’s butchering the food so badly that I wish he wasn’t even here at all. If I didn’t need the help so desperately, I’d tell him to leave.”

“Butcherin’,” she repeated under her breath. Heading across the room to get a better look at the man, she couldn’t find him anywhere. “Did ye see a tall man with a short black beard and mustache pass through here?” she asked a boy from the scullery.

“I’m not sure, my lady. That sounds like every man here,” said the boy, making a face.

“I suppose it does.” Morag looked around at the busy kitchen and decided she needed to try to find the mysterious man on her own. She slipped out the back door of the scullery, seeing someone disappear, turning the corner of the keep. Keeping in the shadows, she stayed close to the castle wall. When she got to the corner she peeked around.

Sure enough, there was the man with the knife, talking in hushed voices with Lord Whitmore. They stood behind the henhouse.

“Do it quickly,” said Lord Whitmore. “We cannot waste precious time.”

Morag crept closer, but stayed hidden, making her way to the henhouse. She tried hard to hear their conversation over the noise coming from the courtyard.

“I won’t let you down,” answered the man.

Whitmore pulled a pouch of coins from his waist belt and handed it to the man, scanning his surroundings as he did so. “Another bastard is sure to arrive at any time, so now is your chance. I saw Rook headed for the practice yard.”

Morag jerked backward hearing Rook’s name, accidentally kicking a feed bucket she hadn’t noticed was there. When Whitmore’s head snapped up, she pulled back out of sight and hid behind a wagon with tall sides, not even daring to breathe. After a minute she slowly peeked out again. Seeing that the men had left, she turned and ran back to the kitchen. Dodging several kitchen workers, she ended up barreling right into someone’s chest.

“Oomph! There you are,” said Bedivere, reaching out to steady her. “When Willow told me you’d left the room without her, I had hoped you’d be down here and not on your way to the secret garden.”

“Oh, Bedivere, ye need to hurry.”

“Hurry? What are you talking about?” She pulled him over to a vacant corner and leaned in close to talk so no one would hear.

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