The Dark Amulet Collection

Chapter 9

Sasha flinched as he felt Beth’s hand come down on his shoulder. With an effort, he tried to relax his muscles under the pressure of her hand, but Beth could still feel the tension in them.

He was trying to appear nonchalant so he only glanced up quickly at the two storey cottage as they walked past. He didn’t really see the beauty of the yellow climbing roses or the cosiness of the rooms that could be seen through the diamond panes of the leadlight windows. All he saw were tall whitewashed walls that lay between him and the family who lived there. Somewhere behind those walls were the people who could, if they chose to, make his life hell.

Then he risked a glance up at Beth and found her watching him. Fear knotted his stomach as he quickly dropped his gaze. He had often been belted for cheekiness and he didn’t know what passed for cheekiness in his new world. His cheek still throbbed dully from his last beating.

“Come one, young one. I’m not going to eat you,” said Beth bracingly. “Let’s get that face of yours cleaned up and then we’ll think about dinner. I bet you’re hungry after all that unloading. That was heavy work for a small boy.”

Sasha risked another glance up and saw that she was smiling at him. He nodded but said nothing.

He felt the change in texture under his bare feet as they crossed from gravel onto the brick path leading into the stable. He stared ahead at the well-kept wooden structure, smelling straw and dung and horses.

As they entered, Beth drew him into her office on the left side of the entrance. A wooden chair was pulled up to a large desk scattered with papers against the far wall, while along the right-hand wall was a long rough workbench, which Beth used for repairing and cleaning tack. The walls were hung with spare leather thonging, coils of rope, broken bridles and halters and, along the top of the wall, a row of rosettes and ribbons that nearly reached around three of the four walls. A fire burnt in a small hearth set into the outside wall and two chairs, one upright and the other a rocking chair strewn with knitted rugs, were set on either side of a small wooden table, on which a book and an empty cup of coffee had been left. A heavy black kettle hung over the fire, steam whisping up from its spout.

“Sit there,” Beth said, indicating the upright chair nearest the door. She busied herself with pouring water from the kettle into two chipped cups and a bowl. She added coffee and milk to the water in the cups and ground willow bark to the bowl.

She found a clean rag and used it to gently cleanse his wounded cheek with the suspension of willow bark. Sasha held still, lips pressed together, expecting to endure pain. But Beth was gentle and as she pulled away, Sasha let out a soft breath of relief.

A knock on the outside door made Sasha jump but Beth merely asked him to answer it. When he hesitantly opened the door, a young brown-haired blue-eyed maid from the kitchen handed him two steaming plates of what appeared to be beef stew.

“Here y’are, new boy. I’m Rosie, the parlour maid. Don’t expect me to bring your food over every night. You can eat with the rest of us in the kitchen tomorrow.”

Sasha nodded his head and mumbled his thanks.

When he re-entered the office, he handed a bowl to Beth and sat down, holding the other. He waited until she started eating. When he was sure that the bowl of stew he still held was for him, he picked up his spoon and began to eat. The stew’s aroma almost made him giddy. Despite his hunger, he ate it slowly, wringing every last ounce of enjoyment out of its rich flavour. As he scooped the last spoonful slowly into his mouth, he gave a shudder of contentment. He looked up to find Beth’s eyes on him, her bowl empty long ago.

He gave a little embarrassed grin. “Oops. But that was so… so amazing.”

After a moment, Beth smiled. “Better than Bryson’s fare, was it?”

“Oh yes, ma’am. I only ever had bread and cheese, sometimes an apple.” He scowled. “Sometimes nothing at all, if he was too tired or drunk.”

“Hmm. He didn’t clothe you too well, either. We will have to find you some new trousers and a good warm shirt. You’ll need boots too. Can’t have bare feet round horses. I think young Master Jayhan may have some clothes he’s grown out of that would fit you, until we can get you your own.” She stood up. “But first, before you dirty new clothes or my stables, you will have a bath.”

“Now? It’s cold and dark and…”

Now?“And you’ve never had one before, I’m guessing.

“I went swimming in summer, in the river,” Sasha said defensively.

“Good for you. Now, there’s a big metal horse trough outside. Throw out what’s in it, get a bucket of water from the well and rinse it out. Then bring it in here. Once that’s done, you can bring two more bucket loads of water from the well and put them in the trough. I will add the rest of the boiling water and by then we should have the makings of a bath.”

Sasha stared at her for a few moments with his melting black eyes, then turned on his heel and followed her instructions to the letter.

As she added the hot water to make a shallow lukewarm bath, Beth nodded her approval. “Well done. You have a good memory.” She handed him a piece of soap and a clean rag. “Now, undress and hop in.”

Sasha baulked. “Not in front of you.”

Beth frowned for a moment then shrugged. “Very well, I will give you twenty minutes. But when I come back, you had better have washed yourself thoroughly, including your hair. Otherwise, I’ll be doing it for you.”