Gyselle

"Keep moving it around, now, don't let it stick to one end of it!"

Gyselle obeyed. Using her wrists, she lifted the pan, twisting it in the air so that the chunk of butter slid across the pan's surface.

Lunz stood beside her, chopping up cloves of garlic into small pieces. Then he dropped the pieces into her pan. "Scatter them out properly, but tell me when they turn gold. I don't want them burning again."

Gyselle bit back a resentful grunt. She had only made that mistake once, but Lunz was the most finicky man she had ever met. Mayhaps that's the real reason his assistant left.

It was an ungenerous thought. Lunz's assistant had joined the soldiery which House Strickland was continuing to host in Penmore. Lunz had cursed at the lack of help, but there was little that Ser Rickard could do about it; any young man in the town was wearing a soldier's garments now. It fell to the women to assist Lunz; Rickard had apologised for the inconvenience, but he had been resolute in decreeing that any woman who was working in his brothel needed to spend part of her time in the kitchens.

Gyselle fumed at this new ruling; Ser Ennis alone paid her better than the wages for an assistant cook's job. Rickard had claimed that the women would spend an equal amount of time assisting Lunz, but Gyselle had been called upon to replace several women when their regular clients appeared unexpectedly. The only regular that Gyselle had was Ser Ennis, and he did not come often enough to save her from extra work in the kitchen.

Lunz began dropping a large descaled fish in the pan. "Keep the pan steady, now. Are you tired?"

"No," Gyselle lied. She hated this tiresome task, but she had no wish to give Lunz another stick to beat her with; she bit back her complaints as she watched Lunz cover the fish with herbs. "Good. Put the pan down and let the fish fry."

Gyselle sighed and lowered the pan down onto a metal bar which was placed over the fire. She was slick with sweat as she stepped away from the open flames, grabbed a tankard of water, and drank deeply to quench her raging thirst.

Rickard suddenly appeared in the kitchen, leaning through the doorway. "Lunny, we got five men out here who want some taken up."

Gyselle had been around Rickard long enough to know that he meant that they wanted supper. Lunz gave a curt nod. "Will two geese settle them, Rick?"

"Sounds like a proper scoff," Rickard replied with a smile. His gaze shifted to Gyselle, "Oh, and you're wanted out front. Ser Ennis just arrived."

Forcing herself not to sigh with relief, Gyselle hurried out of the kitchen without another glance at Lunz.

"Don't fret, Lunny, I'll send two of the others back here to help you out," Rickard was saying as she walked past the retired knight.

Ser Ennis Dudley was standing hesitantly by the stairwell, unable to hide the besotted expression from his face when he looked upon her. She returned his smile and gave a curtsy. "My shining knight is here to rescue me."

Ennis's smile widened, and he gave her a nod. "Shall we?" He held out a hand to her, as if he was inviting her to dance in some fancy ball.

Gyselle accepted his hand demurely, with a "Milord" in just the right tone of voice that she knew he liked to hear.

"*"* "* "*"*" *"*"*"* "*"*"* "*"* "*"* "*"* "*"*

"Oh gods... oh yes... Hilda... Hilda!"

He always called her by that name when they rutted. It was a strange sensation to Gyselle that he thought Hilda was her name; he spoke it with such passion, as if he'd been told to do it in order that women were pleased as well. You will have to try harder than that with me.

Gyselle breathed faster, widening her eyes as she looked up at Ennis. He loved to look into her eyes when he reached his apex. She also widened her smile and let her long tongue hang down, resting on her bottom lip.

As she expected, this finished Ennis' will to continue. He gave a high-pitched gasp and thrust his hips faster and harder than before. She felt his seed inside of her as he cried out "Hilda" one final time.

Gasping for breath, Ennis slumped forward to rest atop of her. "Gods..." His breath was warm against her ear, making her shudder.

She patted his shoulder. "I can't breathe, milord."

He arose with alacrity. His manhood was already fast growing limp, easily slipping out of her as he moved. "My apologies."

"No no," Gyselle assured him, smiling as she sat up as well. She wanted to get dressed, but she knew how much Ennis enjoyed seeing her naked after they were done. He also seemed to enjoy seeing his seed leak from her. He paid her an extra copper penny when she gave him that sight.

Ennis turned back to the plate of food which he'd ordered for their room. Lunz had roasted a chicken and brought it to them on a plate alongside green beans, pease, and carrots. Ennis had also sprung for a tankard of the best cider that Widow Appler provided to House Tart.

"Your good health," Ennis said solemnly, toasting Gyselle as he gazed reverently at her body. Gyselle smiled demurely and curtsied.

After a long gulp from the tankard, Ennis sat down at the small table. "Whence came you?" Ennis asked as he tore off a chicken leg.

"Oldtown, milord," Gyselle replied, sitting down on the bed beside him.

For every minute that Ennis spent rutting with her, he spent another ten sitting back and speaking with her. It was not uncommon - Hulla had often quipped that she spent more time talking to older men than fucking them - but she had never met someone as young as he who was interested in that sort of thing. Beneath his awkward stabs at charm, Ser Ennis Dudley was an earnest young man with a great deal to say. Gyselle might have thought him insufferable for all that he loved to teach her things, but she could sense that it came from a place of enthusiasm rather than pomposity. And he surprised her with enough new facts often enough that she was still interested.

What was more troubling was his determination to get to know her better. She had initially demurred or told falsehoods, as Hulla had always taught her to do. But Oldtown was the biggest city in the Seven Kingdoms, she was far away from it, and she did not intend to return.

"How did you end up in this… profession?" Ennis bit off chunks of chicken as he spoke.

"I was supposed to be a septa, maybe even a silent sister. I ran away instead."

Ennis raised an eyebrow. "So you ran away to a brothel?"

"Where else was I to go?" Gyselle asked, careful to sound naive rather than contemptuous. She hovered beside the little table, waiting for Ennis's sayso to join him in the meal.

"True enough, I suppose." He did not seem to sense her hesitation, or else he did not wish to share his food with her. "So you did not know your mother and father? Did they have no kin?"

"I did not, milord," Gyselle replied. She was growing irritated, both from hunger and by these questions. They brought up too many bad memories. "What of you?"

Ennis paused, then took another long drink from his tankard.

"My mother died four years ago. She fell from a horse whilst hawking. And I never really knew my father," Ennis mused as he took another bite. "I was only a boy when he died."

"My sympathies," Gyselle replied, "What happened to him?"

Ennis hesitated, causing Gyselle to wonder if she'd overstepped herself, but then he answered in a low voice. "It was sickness of some sort. The maester didn't know how he got it, it could have been anything. I remember seeing red spots all over his face and arms. He was feverish, he complained of chills, he vomited… nothing we did made any difference. I was not even allowed to stand beside him when he died."

Something in his voice broke as he said those last words. Gyselle reached out and put a hand on his wrist.

Ennis sighed and turned his face away from her, but he did not withdraw his hand. Gyselle was surprised to see the trace of a tear going down his cheek.

"Your pardon," Ennis blustered, putting on a gruff tone, "This cider is stronger than I thought."

Gyselle nodded her head. "The best we have, milord."

Ennis finally seemed to take heed of her. "Are you hungry?"

"Not especially," Gyselle lied, "but I will accept your invitation." She sat down and took a leg of chicken for herself.

Ennis smiled, and continued to eat between sips of cider. Does he recognise what happened? She decided that she had already pushed her luck, so she might as well seize the opportunity. She tucked in with relish, still naked.

"You are a remarkable woman, Hilda," Ennis remarked, "I wish I could take you with me."

Gyselle paused, and looked back up at Ennis. "Take me where?"

Ennis opened his mouth, but then his expression changed. "To Skagos, of course. Where else?"

He's lying. Gyselle gave no sign that she disbelieved him; she simply smiled and nodded. "As you say, milord. My apologies."

Ennis regarded her silently for a moment; she couldn't determine what he was thinking, but she felt unsettled by his stillness.

"Mayhaps you could come with me," Ennis remarked quietly. "Would you do that?"

Gyselle paused; she had not expected such a question. "Do what, milord?" Hulla had taught her long ago that men loved to explain themselves to women, and they only needed an opportunity to give away their strict confidences.

Ennis glanced at the door, as if he feared someone was listening. Then he turned back to Gyselle and leaned forward. "We will be leaving tomorrow. You could travel with me and my retinue. I shall still pay you, and provide you with food, clothes, whatever you need that is in my power to give you. You will be my camp follower, my maid, my cook, whatever you wish men to think."

It matters not what I wish, all men will know that I am your whore. Gyselle was perplexed by the depth of this young knight's desire; she had never imagined that any man would want to take her on as his own.

In the span of mere seconds, a dozen arguments sprang up in her mind for leaving or staying. But none of it mattered to Gyselle; she had to speak with Hulla first before she could make any decision.

Ennis was watching her intently. "Have I struck you dumb?"

"I cannot give you an answer this minute, milord," Gyselle stammered. She loathed how she said it, but she could not think of a better way in such immediacy. Hulla had always been the better liar, the better storyteller...

"Why not?" Ennis looked crestfallen, but also incensed.

She did not fear his wroth; he was not one of those men. But she did not wish to offend him and lose one of the options before she could even choose one.

Panicking, Gyselle could only resort to the truth. "There is another woman whom I travel with. She raised me from a girl when I ran away from the septas. I must speak with her on this matter."

Ennis frowned. "Does she claim you as her child? Do you owe her such obeisance?"

Gyselle frowned. "She is my friend, Ser."

Ennis seemed surprised at this change of tone; he had never heard it from her before. "Did I give you cause to offend? I merely asked why you must run to this other woman for permission, as if she outranks a knight."

Gyselle felt a twinge of fear, but to yield would mean disowning her bond with Hulla, and that was too much to bear.

"Forgive me, Ser," she replied, "did you invite me as a question, or as a command?"

Ennis paused, frowning at Gyselle. The two of them sat facing each other, not a stitch of clothing between them.

He suddenly gave a sigh and looked away. "I did ask you, didn't I? No matter, then. Come with me if you wish, or stay here in this little town if that suits you better. But I will not have it said that I dragged you along by your ear." He arose from his chair and began to get dressed.

Gyselle stayed where she was, too nervous to even cover herself as she watched him. His unhappiness was plain to see, but he did not lash out. She flinched when he walked back to the table and put her payment beside the plate of chicken. A silver stag was among the coins, much to Gyselle's astonishment.

"I suppose this might be the last we see of each other," Ser Ennis observed dourly, "but I hope not." With that, he turned and left the room, looking back once as he closed the door.

"*" *"*"* "*"* "*"* "* "* "* "*"*" *"*"*

"You were lucky," Hulla remarked.

She and Gyselle sat together behind the House Tart, not far from where Gyselle had stood when she'd seen Rickard and Lunz together. Gyselle had just finished regaling Hulla with all that she and Ser Ennis had discussed.

"Lucky?" Gyselle asked.

"Most would have jumped at the chance to become a camp follower to a man of his rank. And you had the nerve to haggle?" Hulla gave an astonished chuckle. "He must be besotted with you that he left you so graciously."

Gyselle shifted uncomfortably. "You think it was unwise?"

"Unwise? I don't doubt it," Hulla replied, but she spoke as if Gyselle had inquired about the weather. "I suppose it was not an outright refusal, at least. That might have gotten you into worse trouble."

Gyselle nodded. "What do you think, then?"

"Think of what?" Hulla glanced at her.

"Should we go?" Gyselle inquired.

Hulla gave short burst of laughter. "Don't be daft!"

Gyselle was surprised and affronted. "There's no need to talk that way to me," she snapped.

Hulla's mirth faded. "You really want to go follow after soldiers? All the way to Skagos?"

"He ain't going to Skagos. I could tell."

Hulla frowned, "Where else would he go?"

"I dunno," Gyselle admitted, "but I swear he's lying about it."

"You're sure?" Hulla asked again.

"Who taught me how to smell a lie?" Gyselle demanded angrily. "It bloody well wasn't the High Septon, was it?"

"So that's why they haven't left yet..." Hulla's mien became deadly serious. "Mayhaps we should leave."

"Leave?" Gyselle hadn't expected that. "Thought you was enjoying yourself here. You were saying Rick is a good man."

"What of it? If your charming knight is lying about where he's going, then that means trouble for him. Trouble for anyone who's in spitting distance of him too." Hulla lowered her voice as three Strickland soldiers walked by. "I ain't sticking around and getting caught up in someone else's trouble. The sooner we leave, the better."

Gyselle paused, and gave a nod. "Right then. When do we leave?"

"Now," Hulla replied. "I'll get our money, you get our things upstairs. Be quick about it. And don't talk to nobody about us leaving."

Gyselle watched Hulla walk away, then went back into the brothel. She was still incensed over how Hulla had spoken to her. She also wondered whether it was such a bad idea to become camp followers. Rick had seemed confident that there was a lot of money to be had from war, and he'd been a hedge knight. And truthfully, she found Ser Ennis a much more pleasant man than most who came to her. No other man had ever paid her a silver stag before.

She hadn't told Hulla about it yet, nor had she put it amongst the rest of their earnings; the silver coin rested in a small pouch which she kept between her breasts. As she went up the stairs, she took out the silver stag and held it in her hands, watching the light glint off the surface.

"Hilda?"

It wasn't until he said the name a third time that she remembered that she was being spoken to. She nearly dropped the coin in surprise as she turned to face Ser Rickard Merzer. "Hullo!"

"How you getting on?" He smiled cheerfully as he approached her. "Terribly sorry to have to do this, but Lunny needs your help in the kitchen again."

"He asked for me?" Gyselle hadn't expected that.

"Surprises you, does it?" Rickard gave a laugh. "He thinks well of you, b'y. Says you're the best of the lot when it comes to cooking."

Gyselle smiled, but then she remembered what she had to do. But there was no way out of this without appearing noticeably rude. And as she looked at Rickard, she began to wonder what might befall him and Lunz.

"I'm afraid I can't," Gyselle began haltingly. "Hu-Margaret and I have to be going."

"Going?" Rickard's smile melted away. "What's the problem?"

Lie. Lie to him. "I don't know how to say it, Ser," Gyselle began, "but I think something terrible is about to happen."

"Like what?" Rickard frowned, cocking his head to one side.

"I don't know. But the way one man was talking... it just seems like something is wrong. Margaret and I are leaving before something happens."

Rickard folded his arms. Whatever he might have thought, Gyselle could only guess at it. "You mean that, do you?"

Gyselle shrugged helplessly. "I believe it, and so does Margaret. Do what you will, but I thought you should know the truth. You're a good man. You and Lunz both. You two should get away too, mayhaps."

In that, she suddenly feared that she'd said too much. Rickard had begun to smile at the compliment, but the implication of himself and Lunz in the same sentence made his eyes widen in confusion. "Wait... What does that mean?"

"Nothing," Gyselle assured him hurriedly. "Just that I want you two to be safe. That's all."

Rickard's expression changed again, but Gyselle couldn't glean what he was thinking. "By your leave," she said, but she was already turning away as she said it. By the time that she'd packed her belongings and re-emerged in the hallway, Rickard was gone.