So this is mainly just a filler chapter, since all the action can't happen all at one time. It's still good though, so enjoy!

CHAPTER ELEVEN

I woke up sweating, shaking the thoughts of handless, bloody stumps of arms from my mind. Thankfully, I could see light from under the shutters.

I sat up and stretched lazily. I slept in just my loincloth and breastband, since I didn't have a nightgown. The cold air on my bare skin made me shiver and I hurriedly pulled on my tunic, breeches, wool stockings, and my boots.

The door opened and a young girl came in, her arms full of firewood. She balanced her load awkwardly and the wood spilled onto the floor.

I knelt and helped her pick up the logs, stacking them by the fireplace.

"Thank you, miss." The maid whispered, cheeks flushed with embarrassment. About twelve or thirteen, her brown hair was pulled into two braids and freckles covered her face. "I'm sorry that there was no one to clean your room and start the fires. I just got assigned this morning."

"Don't call me miss. I'm no noble." I told her.

"You're a mage, aren't you?" The girl asked, keeping her eyes averted.

I nodded.

"That's why I didn't want to do your room." The maid bit her lip. "The mistress said that I'd better take it or be out of a job."

"Do you do Master Salmalín's?" I asked.

The girl paled slightly. "No! Anyhow, that job's not good for any but the mistress herself. She says that anyone else would just do a botched job of it but I hear that the mistress fancies Master Salmalín."

I raised my eyebrows and watched as she struck the flint and started the fire. She blew on the flame until it caught hold, then added the smaller sticks. Once the fire had begun to burn steadily, she stood and brushed the ashes from her skirt and apron.

"I've got plenty of rooms to finish before the first bell." The maid turned to leave. "If there's anything you require, miss, I'm here to help."

After she left, I frowned. I didn't like anyone calling me 'miss'. I felt like I was pretending to be something I wasn't.

I used the privy and washed my face and hands. While I was in the privy, I heard a soft knock on the door and hurried to answer it. As I pulled the door open, I realized this was the first time I had anyone had knocked on any door of mine.

Mistress Daine waited outside with a smile. "I thought you'd be up. Would you like a job? If I'm not working, I get cranky. Numair doesn't understand at all, but I thought maybe..."

"Thank you." I nodded gratefully. "Please, mistress, I would love a job."

Mistress Daine smiled at me. "There's really no need to call me mistress. Have you worked with horses before?"

"Sometimes I'd lead a team." I answered, resisting the urge to follow the phrase with 'mistress.' I knew that she wasn't really a noble, but it was a habit.

"Do you want to work in a stable?" Mistress Daine asked.

I shrugged. "I like horses well enough."

"It's hard work." Mistress Daine warned me, then realized the absurdity of her comment. "But I expect you can handle it."

Mistress Daine led me to one of the stables. The horses all lifted their heads and nickered as we entered. Slightly disconcerted, I shifted on my feet and looked around the stable. The floors would wooden, the stalls were sturdy, and a loft above the stalls was filled with straw, hay, and sacks of grain.

"Hello, Stefan." Mistress Daine greeted the old man who walked out of a stall. He grinned shyly in return. "This is Adda. The horses tell me that your new stable hand isn't doing his job. I've brought you another, if you'll take her."

The hostler looked me up and down, judging my suitability. "She'll do, I suppose. Have you worked in a stable before, girl?"

"I can learn, sir." I answered.

The old hostler nodded satisfactory. "I'll put her to work."

"Thank you, Stefan. Have you anything for me to do?" Mistress Daine tied her hair back.

"Dimples has sores." Stefan told her, handing me a pitchfork. "Take a horse from a stall and clean out all the soiled straw, then lay fresh straw down."

I took the pitchfork and walked down to the stall at the end. I grabbed the bridle and lead rope from the hook on the wall and entered the stall, closing the door behind me. I murmured to the horse softly, letting him know where I was, and slipped the bridle over his head. I led him from the stall.

"Tie his lead to that post." Mistress Daine pointed to a post outside of the stable. I did as she directed and tied a smooth knot.

"Aye, she'll do." I heard Stefan tell himself softly.

I cleaned out the stall, emptying the dung and straw into a wheelbarrow. I was glad to be doing manual labor again.

By the time the other stable hand arrived, I was on my fourth stall. Stefan fired him swiftly and without cruelty, though a small smile wisped about the hostler's lips as he watched the hostler proudly stalk from the stable.

"Stable work has to be started early." Stefan told me, his hands traveling over a horse's skin almost too fast to see. "There's always too much to ever get done."

There was another stable hand, a young man who mainly kept to his work but was gentle with the horses. Together we finished the stalls in two hours and turned to Stefan for the next task.

Stefan tossed us each an apple. "Lonnie, feed the horses. Adda-girl, I've got more stalls for you."

I ate the apple as Stefan led me to another stable. This one was nicer than the other one, with fancy engraved plates on each horses' stall.

Stefan followed my gaze and scoffed. "Nobles."

The horses were tall, proud, and handsome. Still, they dunged like every other horse and I had to clean it up.

By then, my stomach was telling my body that it wanted food, but I knew that the apple would hold me over. I was having fun, besides. The horses were sweet, most of them, and Stefan handed me a handful of sugar cubes to treat them with.

The nobles' stable was huge and there were four rows of stalls, with two paths down the middle. I had plenty of stalls to muck and I let the rhythm of the work take over my mind so that I would not think of anything else.

When Stefan took the pitchfork from me, the sun was almost in the middle of the sky. "Take your noon meal. You did good, girl. Come back when you can."

"I have lessons with Master Salmalín." I answered softly. "But I'll try to come, sir."

For the first time in almost nine years, I ate a midday meal. I hadn't eaten breakfast and was particularly hungry.

"I thought you didn't eat a noon meal." Master Salmalín commented. He took one glance at the measly, yet filling portions on my plate and sighed. "When are you going to learn that you're allowed to eat?"

"I don't eat much." I protested, trying to pull my plate away from the spoonful of potatoes. "Master Salmalín, I'm not going to eat that either!"

"Ah, but this is pudding." Master Salmalín balanced his tray on one hand while ladling some creamy mixture into a bowl. "You'll eat pudding."

I sighed with resignation and accepted the bowl he offered. "Thank you, milord."

We joined Mistress Daine and the baby at our usual table. Mistress Daine greeted me. "How was it?"

"I liked it." I answered, toying with my vegetables. "It was good."

"You can't be late to our lessons." Master Salmalín warned me.

I shook my head. "I won't be, milord."

"What did you think of the horses?" Mistress Daine spooned mashed vegetables into Sarralyn's mouth.

I shrugged. "They're well enough. They weren't like the workhorses we had on the fief. Our horses were bigger and thicker."

"How often did you work with them?" Mistress Daine asked curiously.

"During the summer and fall, mostly." I answered. "Winters were too cold and springs were too muddy. Sometimes our crew would plow the fields and we'd use the horses for that."

"Is that what you did?" Master Salmalín wondered. "Plowing?"

I nodded. "All kinds of farming, milord, and we cleared forests, too. We were almost done building a watchtower, but-" My voice trailed off and I became fascinated with my potatoes.

From under my lowered lashes, I could see Master Salmalín and Mistress Daine exchange a look.

Master Salmalín cleared his throat. "Have you tried your pudding?"

I looked up at the mage in surprise. "Not yet."

"Well, do." Master Salmalín told me.

I picked up my spoon and dipped it in the mixture. Tasting it, it was smooth and pleasant. My eyes widened slightly and I took a bigger bite.

"Stop watching her, Numair. Let her eat." Mistress Daine chided.

Master Salmalín kissed his wife's cheek. "Yes, dear."

"It's good." I decided. "The pudding is good. I like it."

We all sat silently, finishing our meal. I ate most of the food on my plate, but really couldn't finish it all. I even left some of the pudding. After Master Salmalín had cleared his plate, he looked up at me.

"I have something new to teach you. I think that this method might help to improve your control."

I barely suppressed a groan.

The mage observed my distaste. "As soon as you gain control, I can start to teach you the interesting spells."

"Yes, milord." I stood, stacking my dishes and reaching for theirs. "I'll take your dishes, if you want."

"Thank you." Mistress Daine handed her tray and plate to me.

As I carried the dishes and trays to the wash basins, I tried hard to think about the wonderfulness of pudding and not the loss of my crew.