Walcrest’s kitchens were on the ground floor in the center of the manor, and since he’d had regular meals everyday since he’d arrived, Dwayne expected them to be in good order. “I did like the breakfast they served this morning,”
Galkin kept his eyes ahead as he walked. “It was adequate.”
Dwayne’s head jerked back. “Adequate?”
The corners of Galkin’s lips turned down. “As the head of one of the wealthiest families in Soura, Lord Gallus will be accustomed to much richer fare.”
Dwayne stopped, his skin prickling as if he’d just entered a snow bank. So Magdala’s family was powerful and rich.
Galkin stopped in front of the kitchen door. “My lord.”
Dwayne gave him a weak smile. “He’s a soldier too. I’m sure if we have enough beer, it’ll be fine…”
A frown passed over Galkin’s face. “Perhaps, my lord.” He opened the door to the kitchens.
Dwayne blinked. The kitchens were huge, more than large enough to house a battalion of cooks at the same time. Each of the fifteen cooking stations had a clean gray stone counter, a collection of pots and pans, and a dizzying array of unfamiliar cooking utensils hanging from racks. With a stove at each station, the kitchen could prepare enough meals to feed the entire town of Walton. That wasn’t the shocking thing though.
Dwayne looked around. “Where is everyone?”
“Oh, is someone there?” A short round woman stood up, her white capped head just barely visible above the counters. After placing a half peeled tuber on the counter next to a wooden bowl filled with skins, she smiled at Galkin then gasped at Dwayne. “By the cup! Galkin, is this the young apprentice that Lord Bart brought back from his travels?” She tried to fix her greying hair, but strands kept escaping her hat.
Galkin gave a brief bow. “Yes. This is Dwayne.”
The woman trotted up to them and curtsied. “Miss Naomi Doyle at your service, milord.”
Dwayne groaned. He’d hoped only Galkin would insist on the formalities. “You don’t have to call me-“
“The young master wonders where everyone else is,” said Galkin.
Miss Doyle shrugged. “Ain’t no one here but me and the new scullery maid. She comes in after to help me clean up. It’s a shame too. I could do some wonders with a staff. And food. And some idea of what everyone would like to eat.”
Back in the bath, Dwayne had only reached chapter three in Armsford’s book. If the text had any guidance on how to run a party with only two people on the cooking staff, he hadn’t gotten there yet. He went for the obvious solution. “We hire more people.”
Miss Doyle grimaced. “But there’s hardly anyone in town worth bringing here. Galkin here tried, the dear boy, but most of them in town could barely wash a dish, let alone make a meal for nobility such as yourself. What’s this for by the way? More people coming?” Her hands twisted her apron.
Dwayne felt the same knot of apprehension. “Lord Gallus is coming to the estate.”
Miss Doyle perked up. “The red-haired general himself? I would like to catch a glimpse of him if you know what I mean.” She fluttered her eyebrows.
Dwayne flushed.
Galkin gave a soft cough. “That’s the state of that, my lord.”
Dwayne cleared his throat. “What about the cleaning staff? Are any of them of use?”
Miss Doyle and Galkin shared a look.
“What?” asked Dwayne.
The steward answered. “As I stated before, we are still cleaning the rest of the estate. Aside from the study, and the three rooms we’ve selected for your, Lord Kalan, and young Lady Gallus’s use, the rest of the estate is ah…”
“It’s frightful.” Doyle patted Galkin on the arm. “Though it does look a lot better now.”
An ache like a nail being hammered into his skull edged into Dwayne’s brain. “How many people are we expecting? I’m guessing Lord Gallus and a few of his people, right?”
Galkin’s eyes slid away. “That group includes his most loyal lieutenants and their aides, some of whom have family in town and will want to bring them along. In addition, Colonel Harvey will want to bring her lieutenants and their families, and for the sake of propriety, you’ll also need to invite the Mayor of Walton too as well as select nobility from the area.”
“That may not be so-“
“I wasn’t finished, my lord. We also need to invite the local clergy, and if there are any prominent merchants in the area, we’ll need to invite them to.”
The nail went all the way in. Dwayne closed his eyes and massaged his temples.
“Are you all right, milord?” asked Doyle.
Dwayne nodded and opened his eyes. “I’m going to need to think about this.” Hopefully, the answer was somewhere in Armsford’s book. “Let’s see the stables first.”
Galkin bowed. “As you wish, my lord.”
“Good luck.” Miss Doyle returned to her tubers.
Admaeus Speaks 