Chapter Two

Jem worked alongside Barka for the rest of the day. She had some trouble communicating with the old mouse, but her respect for Gofod went up many notches. Barka, though hard of hearing, was an expert baker. She explained to Jem where different ingredients were kept and what different measurements were. It was a good thing that Barka was so good at explaining things, because Jem would have had some trouble getting it across to the mouse that she needed things repeated.

The whole day went by faster than nearly any other Jem had experienced. Before she knew it, Gofod was yelling above all of the noise for everybeast to finish up, collect their due, and gather outside to be led back to the slaves' quarters. The slaves in the kitchen began to run to and fro, clearing the side table of everything which had cooled, and piling it up with the new things coming out of the ovens. The clank of glass was heard throughout the room as sauces, spreads, fruits, and vegetables were sealed away in glass jars. The traffic in front of the pantry door startled Jem so much that she stood clear of it for a while before gathering the courage to squeeze inside to put back the flour that she and Barka had not used that day. As the last things were being put in place, Barka took Jem by the arm, pulled her out of the way of a mole rolling some cheese, and put a rag in her paw.

"Now we clean," she said.

Jem nodded and followed Barka's lead, scrubbing the countertop where she'd spent the day. She and Barka were some of the first slaves to finish their work. Barka placed Jem in front of her and steered her toward the door which led outside. Beside the door were what looked like a few bundles of napkins. Gofod picked up two and handed them to the two mice.

"Your due!" he said happily.

Jem took the bundle without a word and climbed the stairs up to the ground outside. Three of the vermin who had stood by the wall in the kitchen all day were now keeping an eye on the slaves outside. Jem stared down at her bundle with interest. What could it be? She began to unwrap it.

"Not now dear," said Barka, lying a paw on top of Jem's own. "Wait until we're back with the other slaves."

Jem nodded and sloppily rolled the bundle back up. She stood quietly by Barka as more slaves climbed out of the kitchens, each carrying a small bundle of napkins. One of the ferret guards began pushing among the slaves, sorting them out by species and then counting them. "All the squirrels and otters," Jem heard him muttering, "an extra mouse, the new one," his eyes rested on Jem for a moment before moving on. "All of the voles and hedgehogs, and then the moles." He stopped for a second, looking at the scant group of moles before him. "Ay!" he called to the other guards. "There's a mole missing. Check the kitchens once more."

A weasel near the stairway quickly disappeared from view. He appeared not long after, dragging a frightened looking molemaid. The mole carried nothing in her paws. The ferret who had been counting the slaves strode over to her. The molemaid sank to the ground in terror, shaking, not daring to look the ferret in the eye.

"Thought you were going to spend the night in the kitchens, did you?" snarled the ferret. Jem closed her eyes and looked away, knowing what was coming. She flinched as she heard the mole cry out with each kick. "You know there are only three slaves on night duty!" spat the ferret. After a few more kicks, he turned from her and toward the other slaves, making his way back through them to the front. "Let's go, the sun's nearly gone."

Jem shot a glance back at the molemaid. She had tears running down her face, but she didn't look hurt too bad. What's more, the weasel who had dragged her from the kitchen was now helping her to her feet. Jem shook her head and blinked her eyes, but nothing changed. Sure enough, the hordebeast was helping a slave.

Jem didn't have any time to dwell on the oddities of this day at the moment. The slaves were being ushered back through the gates of Fort Vil and around the fort to the slave barracks. She'd have time to ask questions and figure out what in the world was going on in the kitchens when they were eating dinner with the other slaves.


The kitchen slaves were some of the first to arrive back from work. Most of the other slaves that had been led back from work before them, Jem was almost certain, worked inside the castle. They quickly surrounded the kitchen slaves and began to help them to spread out their bundles on the ground. As Jem saw all of those napkins being unrolled and spread out, it made so much sense to her that she felt stupid for not guessing at their contents earlier. This was how the slaves got their food. The scraps from the various meals made for the vermin were set aside each day, and near the end of the day, a few slaves would gather the scraps of food into these bundles. They couldn't put anything very good into the bundles, since two vermin stood over them, watching what they choose, but over time, they had become very good at packing as much as they could into each bundle so that all of the slaves could be fed. In fact, these scraps would provide the slaves of Fort Vil, not only with dinner, but with breakfast the next day. Jem gave her own bundle of food to a squirrel who was gathering many of them together. Just as she was about to look over the food and pick out her share, as she did each evening after the day's work, she felt a paw on her arm.

"No, dear," she heard Barka say. "That's not for us. We get to be food tasters all day. We don't need it."

Jem felt her stomach grumble in protest. Sure, she had tried a few things which she had made with Barka, but only a few bites had passed her lips all day. Was she expected to live on so little from now on? Jem had half a mind to break away from Barka's grip and grab at least a piece of bread, when she heard a loud clamor behind her. The slaves who worked in the fields had just arrived. Looking over her shoulder at them, Jem felt ashamed. They all looked so tired, many of them worn to the bone. She knew that feeling well, and for once, she didn't feel that way. With a sigh, she let Barka pull her away from the food.

She stood by, watching the slaves come in, grab some food, and shuffle away to eat. Most of them had no idea where the food came from and neither did they care. All that mattered was that it was there at the end of each day. Jem lost interest in the field slaves and began to look over her fellow kitchen slaves. Some of them had already walked away, but many remained, watching the food disappear. Jem realized that she recognized many of them now. They had always been here, watching as she took her food; she had just never really looked at them before now.

Thinking about her day, Jem realized that she couldn't remember ever seeing Gofod before. She began to look around, trying to find where he'd gone. A few hedgehogs caught her eye, but none of them were him. Even the ones turned away from her she was able to rule out immediately. There was simply no slave, of any species, as fat as Gofod in here.

Jem turned to Barka. "Where's Gofod?" she asked.

"Eh? You have to talk louder dear. It's noisy in here."

"WHERE'S GOFOD?" Jem repeated, this time nearly screaming. She blushed a bit as she saw many heads turn toward her, but she knew that this was the only way Barka would hear her.

"Oh, he has night duty every night," said Barka. "Makes sure everything we finished making late in the evening gets tended to. He has two helpers. They make runs for him, night and day. They take food where it's needed anywhere in the fort and beyond. In the morning, the three of them usually get things started up, the fires and such, before we get there."

Jem nodded, thinking of the molemaid who had been beaten because she was still in the kitchens when only three slaves were supposed to be there. The mole had looked about Jem's age. All of a sudden, Jem really wanted to meet her and talk to her. Bidding Barka a very loud farewell, she began to look for the molemaid.

Jem found her sitting against a wall, her head bowed forward as if she were asleep. "Umm, excuse me," Jem rested her paw on the mole's shoulder. "I don't mean to disturb you, just wanted to talk."

Slowly, the molemaid lifted her head. From the look on her face, she hadn't been asleep. "Hello," she said meekly.

With a big smile, Jem plopped down on the ground next to the young mole. "Hello! My name's Jem. What's yours?"

"Bur aye, moi name's Chohur. Oi saw yous ina kichen."

Jem nodded. "Yeah, it seems I'll be working there from now on." Jem looked Chohur over. "You weren't hurt, were you?"

Chohur shook her head. "Not reely. Apit, 'e 'elped meh out."

"Apite? Who's that?" Jem began to look around at the other slaves, expecting Chohur to point one of them out to her.

"Hur, not in yurr, 'e ain't. 'E's th' weasely. 'E 'elped meh oop when Ah fell down."

Jem stared at Chohur, wide-eyed in disbelief. "The weasel! I thought he was helping you get up, but I didn't believe it. Vermin never help out slaves. It just doesn't happen. He'd have no reason to."

"Sur 'e wud! The kichen gards're diffent. Bur aye, yurs! We gets um food an' they bes noicer to us'ns. Apit knose meh. Oi gave 'im a small cake." Chohur nodded at this as if it were plenty reason for a vermin to be nice to her.

Jem looked at her skeptically, not completely sure if this new world which she had been thrust into today could possibly exist. Slaves can talk freely to each other; food gets sampled all day; everything's run by a fat, hedgehog slave; the guards don't yell or crack whips and even help the slaves out sometimes. It's nearly too much to take in. Her thoughts were cut short as two furry arms wrapped around her from behind.

"Oh Jem! You're here! You're alive! I've been so worried about you!"

Jem escaped the squirrel's grip and turned around to face her. "Hi Carla."

Carla held Jem's face in her paws to look into her eyes. "Thank heavens you're alright! What happened? You weren't with the rest of us when we were coming back from the fields. I thought you must have been killed during the day."

Jem shifted uncomfortably. "Of course I'm alright, Carla. Why do you have to worry all the time? I was just moved to a new place to work is all. I'm in the kitchens now."

"Yurs marm! She'm wiv meh now."

Carla looked over Jem's shoulder at Chohur, then back down at Jem.

"I see you have a new friend, Jem. Would you care to introduce me?"

"Sure." Jem pulled away from Carla's hold and leaned against the wall beside Chohur. "Carla, this is my friend Chohur. Chohur, this is Carla. She's been watching over me since my parents died."

"Vury noice ta meet ya marm," said Chohur, extending a paw to shake Carla's paw.

The three of them sat there, talking to each other. Before long, Genti found them and joined the group. Chohur loved the huge otter right away, laughing at all of his jokes. Pretty soon though, everything quieted down in the slave barracks, and the four friends spread out on the ground, getting comfortable. Sleep is not a luxury which can be wasted by a slave. Knowing that they would just have to hold off talking further till the next day, they bid each other good night and closed their eyes to sleep.