The Scribe (17 page)

“Don’t just stand there gawking, pull his trousers down,” she ordered.

Theresa tugged them off to reveal a pair of tight woolen long johns. She looked away as it became apparent that Leonora was taking these down, too.

“Right, then, pass me the soap—and be quick about it, or he’ll freeze.”

The young woman turned red. Aside from her little cousins, she had never seen a man with so few clothes on. She passed the soap to Leonora, who scrubbed Hoos as though she were washing a chicken. When she asked Theresa to hold him while she continued to clean, she couldn’t help glancing toward his groin. Her gaze fell on the soft hair that surrounded his member, and she felt flushed when it occurred to her that she would never have imagined it so
big. She thought Leonora would chide her if she caught her looking and so tried to be as discreet as possible, but while they were wringing out the cloths, she was able to reexamine him less surreptitiously.

“It looks like he’s broken a rib, see?” said Leonora, pointing at a reddish bump on his chest. She rested her right ear against his torso and listened. “But I can’t hear any whistling, which is a good sign, at least.”

“Will he be all right?”

“I should think so. Bring some more water and I’ll turn him over. A year or so ago a trunk fell on Althar and almost cut him in two. He was cursing and raving like a madman, but within two weeks the lucky sod was already scuttling around like a lizard.”

“It’s true,” said Althar, who had just walked in. “How’s he looking, my queen?”

“A cracked rib and a bad knock to the head.”

“Well, then, nothing that one of your breakfasts won’t cure,” he declared.

“That’s your solution to everything: food.” She laughed and gave him a shove.

They finished washing him and then sat down at the table.

Breakfast proved to be quite an event. Leonora prepared slices of salt meat, which she covered with pork fat, mushrooms, and onion. Then she added some slabs of goat’s cheese, which she browned by placing some embers on top of the stewpot. Finally, she added a splash of wine, which, she said, settled the belly.

“And you haven’t tried her pastries yet,” said Althar.

Theresa licked her lips as she sampled the honey and almond creation that Leonora served afterward. Theresa liked them so much she asked for the recipe. Then she looked at Hoos despondently.

“Don’t worry about him,” said Althar. “Leonora will take care of him. Now come with me—we’ve work to do outside.”

He explained that in winter there was less game to hunt, and that fishing became impossible. They had a small sown field on more fertile land some distance from the bear cave, which did not need any attention until the onset of spring. Although he did some hunting in the winter, he explained that the bulk of his time was spent doing carpentry, making repairs and crafting tools until spring arrived.

“And above all, stuffing animals,” he added with pride.

They walked up the slope to a crevice in the mountain that looked as if a great axe had cleaved it open. The second cave had a narrower mouth and Theresa had to bend down to follow Althar, who, equipped with a torch, went on ahead as though he knew the way by memory.

Soon the tunnel widened into a spacious chamber, like a church nave.

“Nice, eh?” he bragged. “We used to live here, but when Leonora fell ill we moved to the bear cave. A shame, but its sheer size made it impossible to heat. However, the cold is good for the pelts, so I set up my storeroom here.”

He used the torch to show her his trophies. In the half-light emerged a pack of foxes, a brace of ferrets, and deer, owls, and beavers—all strangely immobile, frozen in grotesque positions that made it hard to believe they had once been alive. Theresa observed their twisted jaws, gleaming eyes, and claws spread in a macabre dance. Althar explained that in his youth he had learned the art of taxidermy—and that many nobles liked to display the beasts whose lives they claimed on their hunts.

“All I need now is a bear,” he added. “And that’s where you come in.”

Theresa nodded, assuming he was referring to the stuffing process, but when Althar told her that they would have to hunt it first, she prayed to God he was jesting. They spent the morning getting the cave in order.

Althar cleaned the skins while Theresa concentrated on cleaning the various instruments. The old man brushed the stuffed animals until they shone, explaining that in Fulda he would earn two denarii for a ferret and a fox, enough to buy five pecks of wheat. For an owl they would pay him less—because birds were easier animals to stuff—yet even so, selling one would enable him to buy a couple of knives and a pot or two. A bear, however, was different. If he could hunt and stuff a bear, he would take it to Aquis-Granum and sell it to Charlemagne himself.

“And how will you capture one?”

“I don’t know. When I locate one we’ll find out.”

At midday they returned to the smaller bear cave. They were hungry when they arrived, and Leonora greeted them with a cup of wine and a hunk of cheese.

“Don’t eat too much. Leave some room for the rest,” she warned and proceeded to bring out meatballs with preserved figs, bird pie, and hot compote. Halfway through the banquet, Leonora informed them that Hoos had woken up, taken some broth, and gone back to sleep.

“Did he say anything?” asked Theresa.

“He just moaned. Perhaps he’ll be more talkative tonight.”

When they had finished, Althar went out to relieve himself and check on the animals. Theresa helped clear the table, taking off the top and tidying away the trestle. She did not have time to sweep up before Satan cleaned the floor with his tongue. When she was about to throw the scraps out, Leonora stopped her with a gesture of disapproval.

“I don’t know how you spent most of your time while growing up, but it certainly couldn’t have been doing any cooking,” she said.

Theresa told her about her passion for reading and Leonora looked at her as though she were the oddest of creatures. The young woman explained that she had frequented schools and scriptoria
since she was a child, and once she had grown up, she had gone to work as a parchment-maker’s assistant.

“A great help to your mother, then,” she reproached.

“But since trying your dishes, I’m eager to learn how to make them,” she said, seeking her approval.

Leonora laughed heartily. She consented that, in the eyes of men, if a girl could not cook, it was worse than if she were flat chested.

“Although, you have nothing to worry about in that department,” she noted.

Theresa looked at herself and then at Hoos and felt a fluttering in her stomach. She pulled her loose dress tight to her body, seeing the fabric mold to her breasts.

Leonora seemed to read her thoughts. “He’s certainly handsome,” the woman said, “and shapely.” She winked at Theresa and flashed a wily smile.

Theresa reddened and smiled back, but she quickly steered the conversation back to recipes.

In the afternoon, Leonora listed the dishes that each season favored. In winter, the weaker of the animals they kept would be slaughtered before they died from the cold. She would have to learn not just how to cook the various cuts of meat, but also how to smoke, salt, and cure them. However, most of the meat was hunted, so it was only plentiful with the arrival of spring. As for vegetables, she described the mushrooms that grew in the forest, and the importance of knowing what they were before cooking them, and she extolled the virtues of cabbage—red and white—cauliflower, and thistle. Finally, she described the benefits of pulses.

“They might give you wind, but they make for good eating,” she laughed, letting out a timely fart that reverberated around the cave.

She spoke of the importance of leftovers. In her experience, a good cook must know how to turn a handful of scraps into a delicious dish, and she discussed the many resources for this task. Her favorite tip involved using
garum
, a condiment that could turn the most insipid stew into an explosion of flavor.

“The best
garum
comes from Hispania,” she explained, “but it is so expensive that only the rich can afford it. Years ago, a Roman merchant taught me how to prepare this relish using salt, oil, and fish tripe. But don’t think it can be any old fish guts: Tuna or sturgeon give good results, but I use herring tripe, which has a lot more flavor. Once it has been macerated and dried, it can be mixed with wine, vinegar, or even pepper—if you have the money to buy that, of course.”

“But if this
garum
is so good, why mix it?”

“Heavens, lass, for some variety of course!
Garum
is like sex: At the beginning it’s always good, but the best thing is knowing how to mix it up. Look at us,” she said with a smile, “married for thirty years and we still chase each other about. It’s like everything: Wear the same dress for three days and even a blind man will grow tired of you. Add a flower or change your hair, and just watch how they run after you.”

“I don’t want men running after me,” she responded dismissively.

“You don’t? So what does a young girl think about then?”

“I don’t know. My job. My family… I don’t need men,” she said, keeping to herself that she had already celebrated her nineteenth birthday.

“I see. And that’s why you were staring at that young man’s dangler when I was washing it.”

Theresa blushed so fiercely she thought her face would stay red for the rest of her life. “Will you teach me?” Theresa said, trying to conceal her embarrassment.

“Teach you what? How to wash a prick?”

“No, good God. To make
garum
!”

“Ah, of course. I’ll teach you that, and other things you need to know,” she said with a grin.

While some turnips were roasting, Leonora took the opportunity to talk to Theresa about wine. Not the everyday stuff, drunk to quench the thirst, always young and watery, but the type that was served for important celebrations: pure, fragrant, glossy, ruby red… the drink that made the timid eloquent, that strengthened the hearts of the cowardly… every drop of that wine was a sin.

“I’ve never tried that kind,” Theresa admitted.

“Well, we have an amphora we’re keeping for a special occasion. If you catch the bear, we’ll open it tomorrow.”

At dusk, Althar returned, sporting a broad smile. He had found the beast’s trail.

“He’s still there, the big brute. Shitting in the same cave as last year,” he announced euphorically. Dropping his gear, he laughed as he slapped Leonora on the backside.

Together they sat down to eat vegetable soup and salted rib of boar accompanied by watered-down wine. Althar slurped down his soup eagerly and quickly served himself another helping, for after setting traps all afternoon, he felt he could have eaten a cow.

“The girl cooked it,” Leonora informed him.

“Well, I never! So I did well to take her on then?” he laughed. “How’s the patient? Has he woken yet?”

“He opened his eyes for a moment, but I don’t know. He seems groggy. The blow to the head, perhaps.”

“He must be confused. I’ll go and take a look at him.”

They soon finished eating. While Leonora cleared up, Althar and Theresa went over to Hoos, who opened his eyes when he felt the damp cloth on his brow. He looked at Theresa and seemed to recognize her, but his eyelids closed and he resumed his rest.

Althar dug a blob of wax out of his ear and pressed the side of his head to Hoos’s chest. “I can’t hear any whistling.”

“And that’s good?”

“Of course. If the rib had perforated the lung he would have snuffed it by now. Tomorrow we’ll try to get him up and walking round for a while.”

They carefully covered him, brought the animals into the cave and barred the door, then said goodnight and went to bed.

A few hours later, Theresa woke to feel Satan licking her face. It was not yet dawn, but Leonora was already warming the stewpot and Althar was singing softly to himself, pacing around the cave.

“Little bear, your time is up. Althar’s going to eat you up,” he intoned with a wide smile.

They ate breakfast and wrapped themselves in furs. Althar armed himself with bow and quiver, slung a net over his shoulder, and picked up three iron traps. Then he handed a crossbow to Theresa.

“This will do,” he declared. “My dear! This evening you’ll have a new overcoat!”

Leonora laughed and planted several kisses on him. Then she cuffed Theresa around the head and wished her luck.

The sun was starting to rise as they left the cave. It was a clear, crisp day, which Althar took as a good omen. They left the horse behind, since Althar said it could alert the bear to their presence. While they walked, Theresa confessed that she was scared.

The old man reassured her, “You won’t have to do anything. Just keep watch.”

“And what about this strange bow?”

“You mean the crossbow? I won it from a soldier in Aquis-Granum. I’d never seen such a thing, to be honest, but it’s effective. I’ll show you how to use it.”

He drove one end of the bow into the ground and put his foot on it. Then he pulled the string up with both hands until it slotted into a notch.

“It’s not a toy, so be careful. This is the nut,” he indicated, “and the thing underneath is the trigger. Insert the dart in the groove. See? Then hold it firmly in both hands and aim.”

Theresa lifted the weapon but was unable to keep it up. “It’s too heavy,” she complained.

“Rest it on the ground,” he grumbled. “And listen to me carefully: If the time comes when you need to use it, you will only have one chance. You will not be able to reload, so aim well and shoot at the stomach, agreed?”

Theresa nodded. She went down on the ground and aimed the weapon.

“Hold it steady.”

Althar pointed at a rotting tree trunk, the width of two men. On his signal Theresa pressed the trigger purposefully. The dart whistled through the air and was lost in the undergrowth.

“Try again,” Althar grumbled. She attempted it twice more with varying success. On the fourth attempt Althar declared the training over.

“Let’s get going, or the morning will run away from us.”