Food

Today's illustration  from Courting Trouble shows a cook stirring a pot over an open fire. There will be more about the kitchen and food in future posts, but for today I'll quote a few lines from the feast Cynethrith observes on her first night at court.

Each diner ate according to his station, with the best dishes and the greatest amount reserved for the head table. The hall servants dished out stew from the cauldron and placed one bowl between each foursome at the low tables. I carried in a large dish of two dozen young pigeons for a mid-ranking table, the birds culled before they learned to fly so their flesh was fat and succulent.

Wulfwaru's Diet

In medieval times, just as today, young women worried about their figures. Wulfwaru, the heroine's stepsister in  Courting Trouble, instructs the servants about what she'll eat, and the heroine Cynethrith taunts her sister.

Two servants entered to prepare the hall for supper. Wulfwaru called to the younger one.
“Does cook understand that I will eat nothing but goosegrass soup?”
“Yes, miss. I told her, miss.”
“Are you still trying to lose weight?” I asked.
“You must eat a balanced diet, Wulfwaru,” lectured Waldberg [her mother]. “The way you starve yourself is absurd. You’ll get sick.”
“I know what I’m doing, Mother,” said Wulfwaru. “All the thanes’ wives in town use goosegrass.”
“It wouldn’t hurt her to lose a few pounds,” I said. I don’t think she appreciated the way I jumped to her defense.
“This doesn’t concern you, Cynethrith,” said Waldberg.
And I’m afraid we continued in this manner until supper, when the whole focus of the meal was on what and how much Wulfwaru would eat. I tried to console Waldberg by pointing out that it didn’t matter how little Wulfwaru ate at supper: her serious eating always took place about an hour afterwards. I was so busy trying to mediate this family dispute that I completely forgot the purpose of our earlier discussion.

Hilda Recites Poetry

In the novel Courting Trouble Hilda is one of the heroine Cynethrith's stepsisters. In this scene Cynethrith has come across Hilda in their shared bedroom reciting a poem.

   “Listen,” she said, practically gasping for air. “Listen to this.”
     She began to recite an overwrought poem about a woman who had allowed herself to be seduced by a warrior who, after impregnating her, was nowhere to be found. Hilda had the most extraordinary memory. In fact, she was very smart, just not about anything useful. She paused at the end.
     “Wasn’t it beautiful?” she said in a whisper. Her blue eyes misted over.
     “It was remarkable,” I said. The poem had left me befuddled. The woman was deserted, no doubt about that, but otherwise I was lost. “Tell me something,” I asked. “Are Eric and Edward the same person or two different people?”
     “You didn’t understand it at all, did you?” she said. “You have all the higher qualities of a pygmy shrew.”

On a different topic, the March 2019 Itchen Valley News has an article about the influence my friends and neighbors in the Hampshire town of Easton had on the genesis of Courting Trouble.  

From the Sketchbook: Scene 5

I'm sketching each scene of Courting Trouble in my sketchbook as I gather ideas for an illustrated version of the book. Here's Scene 5. Cynethrith goes to the nearby abbey, founded by her mother, and formulates a “plan” to sneak into the King's Court. Her best friend, the nun Athelfald, isn't too sure about this.

 “You don’t mean you’re planning on staying there?” she said.
“Yes,” I said.
“Don’t you think they’ll notice an idle woman wandering around after a while?”
“I won’t be idle,” I answered. “I’ll pretend I’m a servant.”
“You’re not serious.”
“Yeah, that’s the idea. Don’t you think I’d make a great servant?”
“No.”
“What do you mean ‘no’?” I was offended. I tended to assume I was good at everything.
“For heaven’s sake, Cynethrith, you’ve never had to work a day in your life.”
“I beg to differ,” I said. “I work like a slave. Who feeds the dogs? Who has to fetch embroidery floss and gather dyes endlessly for the troll, and run messages to the servants until I could drop? And I’m immensely strong, you know. I ride and practice sword play and archery every day—well, almost.”
“And that’s the sort of thing you think servants do?” she asked.
“They do as little as possible,” I said. “At least that’s what ours do. Of course Waldberg never pays any attention to them so they get away with murder.”
Athelflad looked at me and smirked a little, an uncharacteristic expression for her. “Maybe it’s not such a bad idea,” she said. “How long are you planning on staying there?”
“Long enough to see what it’s like. Haven’t you ever wondered about royal life? About money and majesty? Gold, gowns, jewels, men . . .”

 

The Stepmother

Cynethrith's stepmother, Waldberg, a character in  Courting Trouble

[My stepmother] was sitting behind an embroidery frame, working gold thread onto a fabric strip for the bishop’s vestment. Her two daughters were with her. Hilda was standing near my stepmother reciting, with more feeling than required, a poem about the crumbling remains of a once magnificent city that had been built by giants.

Meet Egbert

The heroine, who has climbed a tree looking for her lost dog, sees a strange encampment hidden in the forest. This is her first impression of Egbert, a character in Courting Trouble.

. . . a tall warrior stepped out. I don’t know what it was about him, but I think I stopped breathing. The servants went about their tasks with increased diligence. There was nothing soft about the man. His muscular frame was covered from shoulder to waist by a shirt made of shiny metal rings. Below that you could see the points of the leather shirt he wore beneath. He wore no helmet. The angles of his cheekbones seemed to provide their own protection. Were his eyes narrow, or was he squinting in the sun? The light glinted off the gold hilt of his sword, and I sensed danger in a primordial way, like a hare smelling a fox. I wondered how many women he had ravished, how many men he had killed.

The Villagers

The villagers are scheming to get the royal entourage out of town. They don't want to feed the court while they winter in Winchester. Courting Trouble

The villagers had assembled under the yew trees, and the royals were the hot topic. One of the women had apparently heard a good one about the queen.