Chapter 7
Darren nodded. The coast was still clear. The master was nowhere to be seen. Ryden sidled back close and tried to make it look as if he was just coming from the water and not the house.
The master was still nowhere to be seen, but you could never be too careful. Ryden looked up at the sky to find the sun very near its apex. He had thought that he felt lunch time coming
on, but the kitchen maids had been out nearly all morning helping them, and that was not standard procedure. Normally they would not be quite so far as they were in their chores either,
but the two scullery maids were very adept at quick but good work. They were going to have some free time that afternoon it looked like, though you could be certain that Antoine would
find something for you to do. Perhaps that was what he was doing now. Antoine was so busy hiding what he had done that he had completely forgotten the traditional rationing of actually
sufficient meals before the inspections - always just in case someone important showed up, they presumed. There was never anything to be had quickly for a meal, and Ryden was getting
ravenous just thinking about eating. Where was the master? The kitchen girls were talking between themselves, presumably dwelling on the same subject that he was, and more than one
of the younger children had complained quietly to one another.
"Master Ryden!" He heard suddenly from away off by the barn. That was another useless building - or at least practically useless. When he had been very young there had been an old cow
in that barn, but that he barely remembered. At least having livestock would have been an excuse for them to be outside and away from the master for a little while, but the claim was
always the same thing. Wolves in the forest. The wolves would eat grazing livestock, so the master said, and so the only living creatures to be seen were the lovely little swallows and the
occasional fox. Ryden would long ago have seriously doubted the existence of these fabled wolves were it not for every so often on a winter's night when they could be heard howling
through the woods. And what was with this 'master' Ryden all of a sudden?
"Sir?" He answered, finally making his way to the barn. It was not a long walk, but he had made a point of not walking it quickly and also he did not see the master who now presently
emerged from the building. Ryden swallowed a sudden fear and uncertainty that had risen with the sight. It was mostly irrational to fear the master at the moment, but he had beaten one
of their number severely the night before - there was no telling what else he may do, because Ryden suddenly recognized in his eyes something that he had not noticed before that he ever
remembered. It made him shudder.
"Well come here, boy." The master said as if he always treated the orphans like fellow human beings. Ryden resisted the urge to look over his shoulder for the support of his peers before
obeying the master. Darren at least had heard. He would be watching his back for him. "I think that it is high time that we cleaned out the stables."
"Sir?" Ryden dared question him. Unless he intended to start housing the children there there was no real need for them to clean anything out of the barn, though really Ryden didn't know
why it had not been cleaned through those ages ago when the last donkey ran away.
"Well for the inspection, of course!" Came the answer. Ryden did not like it. The master's answer came too ready and too exuberant. The boy, however, nodded slowly rather than
questioning why this had never been done before. Clearly he would have no free this afternoon though he truly did not mind that much. What he did mind was that he was alone with the
master who did not appear to be ready to leave any time soon. He looked around the barn for a pitch fork, hiding his fear with expertly practiced ease. When at least his eyes seized upon
one in the uncomfortable silence, he stepped quickly to pick it up, startling Antoine. "What are you doing?" The master snapped.
"You said to clean the barn, sir. So unless you wanted me to use my hands...?" Here he left the question hang in the air. He could feel the intensity growing, as if the master might soon
explode with all of these children suddenly standing up to him.
"Yes. Yes." He said at last as if he had been broken from a trance. Ryden shrugged and started toward the far end.
"I will want some help to haul-"
"No no no no no no no no no. Not there."
"What, sir?" Ryden turned in confusion.
"I want you to start in this stall." The boy could feel the warning prickles rising on the back of his neck. He was scared stiff and only just hiding it.
"Sorry, sir. I had just thought that starting on the far end would be-"
"Start. Here." Antoine growled through his clenched teeth. Ryden gulped down his fear and held the pitchfork so tightly that he could barely feel is hands.
"Yes, sir." He finally gasped once he was confident that he could actually form the words. With a will he awkwardly started the process of cleaning out a stall. He had never done it himself,
it was a new experience. And the Master was standing close by, almost at his elbow, which made for difficult work indeed. It was almost as if the master was looking, waiting for something.
Ryden hoped that he wouldn't find it - or at least if he did find it, whatever it was, that Antoine would leave him alone. There was little light coming in through the door or through the stall,
but Ryden could see dark patches through the straw. Very dark patches. This straw had never had an animal on it other than the occasional field mice. His eyes darted around the barn.
The low hanging beams in this area, the lack of direct light or line of vision - this is where Eugene had been beaten. Those dark spots in the straw were blood. Antoine was covering his
tracks before the king came. Now Ryden had to be careful to not become one of those tracks that also had to be covered. Kay was taking care of it. Kay would make sure that the king
found out - if nothing else, about how they were nearly starved all through the year and how terribly he treated them on a daily basis. Speaking of which, this work was making him more
ravenous still. "Are we burning this?" He said, his voice faltering strangely. No no no no no. Antoine's gaze came slowly to his face, and Ryden quickly changed his face to his look of
boredom and non-chellance.
"Why?" The Master asked slowly, his eyes narrowing frightfully in the dark.
"What else would we do with it, sir?"
"Oh! Right. Quite right." He muttered, sounding strangely surprised - almost like a different person. Ryden felt the cold prickles going up his neck all over again. What on earth was wrong
with this man?
"I - that is, sir, should I pitch it outside and burn it?"
"Yes, Ryden. Yes, please do burn it!" He answered with a sort of sick smile. "But this stall first." Ryden nodded again numbly in his attempt to avoid the Master as much as possible, still
hoping that he would go away. The cart was small, almost full of straw already and he realized that he had been filling a child's toy cart rather than one meant for this work. He grunted
with annoyance and grabbed the cart to drag it outside. "See to starting a pile for the fire, master Ryden. I will get more boys to help you, and then I will come with fire for it." Ryden
nodded. Not a word about luncheon. Ryden wished that the king would come soon. Tomorrow was not soon enough. Eugene could die in that time for all that he knew, and then the Master
would have little difficulty in concealing his passing from the king. Ryden had not much faith in this far distant king who had allowed him to be raised in hell. He did not quite understand
how Kay could have so much faith in him. He squinted in the sunlight that he had forgotten about while he was in the barn and tried to remember when the Master had flown into his rage
the day didn't matter. Nothing was ever going to change. He kept cursing under his breath at the size of the cart and the ruts in the earth as he got closer to the garbage pile. His eyes
widened, almost bursting out of his head when he turned round to grab the cart. The whole pile of straw was tinged rust red as a fall apple. He had little doubt that the master had realized
just how much blood he had rung out of a mere boy. If he could preserve this for the sight of the king then there would be no question as to his investigating Antoine and also that
worthless inspector who was in the Master's pocket. But where could he hide it? The master would surely come over to see what had taken Ryden so long. Hastily he stuffed a great handful
into his pocket and dumped the cart where no one - especially not the master - would notice the unnatural shaded straw. He blew out a heavy sigh of relief and stumbled back toward the
barn where the master was still standing, hands in his pockets, rocking on his heels and looking up into the rafters. Afraid of what he might see, Ryden did not look up. He grabbed his
pitchfork and started back to work. He could have suggested that the boys bring their snow sleds to help haul the straw out - that is, if they had ever owned such things as sleds.
" Well, I'm off to get you some help, boy." He said at last, clapping Ryden on the shoulder as he walked past him. He did his very best not to shudder at the Master's touch. At this rate and
with these tools, it would take him and even five other boys the best part pf the afternoon and far into evening to clean out this filthy hole. That fire, he thought, had better be only for
burning the refuse of the stables. The thought had occurred to him how well a fire might cover up evidence of any kind, especially of a crime. But Eugene was still alive - for now. If Antoine
had to route through the entire orphan population until he was down to the timid ones so as to get a clean report, he would. But to set him at loose in the world? Not even the cruel world
deserved that. If he needed to, he would risk his health and his life so that the king would see what was amiss.
