YettaLleris staggered into the kitchen, weighed down by pieces of black armor. Bograk followed.
“Into the scullery,” Yetta told him, though he already knew.
“Guh, this stuff smells like animal,” said Lleris.
“It smells like work,” said Bograk. “We don’t all get to play with flowers for a living.”
Yetta knew that was a dig at her rose cakes and herbal teas. She pointed a finger at her boss. “Those flowers—” she started, but then the back door opened.
Tooth-in-the-Grass strolled through it wearing only a slaughterfish over one shoulder. “Got one,” he said, handing the mallet back to Yetta. He flopped the fish down onto her cleaning board.
Yetta got busy with her knives.
“He’ll break my hands if I scratch this,” Lleris said, his tone still cheerful. “He’s kind of a prick.”
Bograk watched Lleris place the pieces on the cleaning rack. “You couldn’t scratch that if you tried. Check every strap and buckle for wear, you don’t want one to break right after you’ve cleaned it. He might come back and show you your guts.”
Yetta could smell wax and cleaning fluid over the fish. “Hey! Crack open the window!” she called.
Tooth swiped a kitchen towel over his scales and shook his feathers dry. Yetta did her best not to peek.
“Fetcher called me a greyskin.” Lleris was still going on about the Imperial.
“Well, are you one?” Tooth asked him. He winked at Bograk.
“What’s that, scaletail?” the orc shot back.
“Not a thing, tusker.” Tooth turned to Yetta. “Did you hear something, snowback?”
Auguste strode into the kitchen.
“Need something, softbelly?” Yetta asked him.
The Breton stared at her. “What is your problem?”
Tooth and Bograk laughing together sounded like a hog choking on a turtle.
“Steak or fillet?” Yetta asked Auguste.
“I told you, he wants slaughterfish! Did you… yeah, you got one.” He turned on his heel.
“Is he a big fellow or little?” Yetta called after him. “The customer who’s waiting? Auguste!”
“Another big one,” Auguste said over his shoulder.
Yetta looked down at the fish. “Fillets, then,” she said. “I’ll grill the whole fish.”
Tooth stepped back into his clothes.
“You can learn a lot from cleaning armor,” Bograk was saying to Lleris. “Look at the places where the plates turned a blow. Here, and here. Think where a quick lad might slip a blade through. Good. Which room did he go in?”
“South chamber.”
Bograk nodded. “The other Imperial. I thought as much. They have the same manner.”
Yetta glanced at Tooth for an explanation. He hooked an arm and mimed shoveling food in.
“She didn’t take offense when I offered it.” The orc continued. “I doubt we’ll have trouble from them, at least tonight.”
“I’m going to serve this on a platter,” Yetta announced. “Has anyone seen Stefania?”
Bograk looked around as if the girl might be hiding behind the butter churn. “I thought she was in here with you.”
“Probably crawled up Laegon’s trouser leg,” said Tooth. He tossed his towel onto the table. “Need anything carried out?” he asked Yetta.
She smiled at him and shook her head. “Thanks for getting the fish.”
.
This post has been edited by Grits: May 22 2013, 12:07 AM