Chapter 4 #2
There was a large cast iron cauldron near the fireplace.
It looked as though it hadn’t been washed in a year.
He knew from his many adventures in the palace kitchen how important a cauldron could be for cooking and heating water.
He worried he wouldn’t be able to lift it if it was filled to the brim with water, as it was quite large, so he drew himself another bucket of water, grabbed a sliver of soap, and moved over to the cauldron.
He tipped it carefully on its side, making sure it was not going to roll anywhere, before he got down on his knees, dipped a rag in the water, and began to wash.
After a few minutes, Makellos began to sing as he scrubbed the inside of the large cauldron.
The reflection of his voice off of its heavy metal interior was oddly fascinating.
It certainly beat the silence around him.
He let out an experimental whistle, delighting in the way the high note pinged off the metal and fluttered about his head like a butterfly.
The Queen had always discouraged him from whistling; it was unbecoming of a prince, and it would create wrinkles around his lips.
He wasn’t sure why that would be a concern.
He was young, and even still, wrinkles were just a part of life.
Whistling was quite fun, just another way to make music.
And the sound echoing inside the cauldron made him laugh.
He couldn’t remember the last time he had laughed.
He slid back out of the cauldron, swiping his ebony hair out of his eyes with his forearm before he froze.
He was not alone. Someone was standing in the open doorway of the cottage.
It took Makellos a moment to make out the details of the figure silhouetted there.
He was dressed in tattered clothes that looked to be more patches than actual clothing.
He had protruding ears, big blue eyes, and a shock of bright red hair.
At first, Makellos thought the person to be a child, for his stature was much shorter than his own.
But, the prince realized, the person’s face was much older than a child’s, though his cheeks were bare and soft.
And his proportions were strange. His head seemed a little larger than it should be, and his arms and legs were shorter and thinner, giving his torso a rather blocky look, despite the fact that he was nearly as thin as the prince.
The two stared at one another for a moment before Makellos realized that this must be the person who lived in this cottage, and he had just come home to find a stranger on his knees, scrubbing the pots and pans.
He gave the young man a smile, the friendliest he could, pushing himself to his feet, his back giving a little protest at the change in position.
The red-haired man in the doorway backed up a step, and Makellos held out his hands quickly from his side.
“I’m sorry if I startled you,” he said quickly. “I’m unarmed, I mean you no harm.”
The young man’s shoulders were clenched and slightly turned away from him, as if expecting a blow.
No doubt he did not receive many visitors this far into the wilder parts of Falchovari.
Makellos kept his polite smile in place.
“I’m very sorry. I was lost in the woods, and I needed a place to stay.
” If he had had any money, he would have offered it.
The young man slowly turned toward him again.
Makellos could see that over his shoulder he had a rope, in which was tied a bony dead hare and a scrawny-looking pheasant.
It appeared that the young man had been out hunting for a meal.
He had a bow strapped to his back. But he made no move to grab it, only continued to stare at him.
Makellos wondered if it was wise to give the young man his real name or not.
Despite the fact that the Queen ruled the kingdom, he was still a descendent of hers and therefore might be seen as being partially responsible for the troubles of the peasantry.
But on the other hand, he thought, if he was truthful about who he was and why he was in this stranger’s house, perhaps the young man would be understanding and appreciative of his honesty.
He took a slow step, keeping his hands out. “My name is Makellos.”
No recognition flickered in the young man’s eyes.
Perhaps he did not know the name of the prince who lived so far north of him.
Makellos took several more steps. The young man did not cower again, though he made no move to approach him either.
Now that they were closer, he could see that the man was probably a handful of winters older than his own twenty, despite his small stature.
“Do you live here?” Makellos asked, gesturing a hand around him to the humble abode.
The young man nodded slowly. Makellos gave him a friendly smile. “Is it just you alone here?”
The young man hesitated for a moment, then shook his head. “Who else lives here?” Makellos asked politely.
After a moment, the young man held up a hand, splaying five stubby fingers, then his other hand with two.
Makellos blinked. “Seven of you?” The young man nodded.
“Goodness, it must be quite crowded,” Makellos said with a slight frown, gazing around at the singular living space.
“I suppose it might be an imposition then for me to ask to stay the night?”
The young man looked thoughtful, then shrugged and gestured to the empty room.
“You need to discuss it with the others who live here?” Makellos guessed, and the pink-cheeked man nodded.
“That is entirely fair,” Makellos said, giving him a polite smile.
“Would you prefer if I leave until they return?”
The redhead shook his head quickly and gave Makellos a hint of a smile, shy and sweet.
He held up the pheasant and hare, then motioned to the large cauldron that Makellos had been scrubbing.
“Those are for your dinner?” Makellos asked, and the little man nodded again.
“I may not look like it, but I am actually quite good in the kitchen,” Makellos said.
“If you’d like, I’d be happy to prepare them for you. ”
The man’s smile brightened, and he finally stepped inside the little house.
He pointed to himself and the animals over his shoulder, making a chopping motion with his hands.
“You can dress the meat?” The young man nodded.
Makellos felt relief flood over him, glad he would not have to butcher the animals himself.
He had done it a few times in the castle kitchens in his years of experimenting and learning, but it had always made him quite sad.
He was happy that he was not expected to take on the gruesome task now.
“I will go pick some vegetables while you do that,” he offered, and the man’s blue eyes shone with delight.
He gestured at a nearby basket, which Makellos happily took and headed out the door and around to the garden.
The garden patch was actually larger than he had first realized, but he supposed it would have to be if there were seven people living in this little house.
The red-haired young man had not said a word to him yet; perhaps he was mute.
Makellos wondered if that would be the case with everyone who lived in the house.
Was it a family who lived here? Would he be able to communicate with them?
Would they know how to read or write? He knew some peasants had that education, but certainly not all.
Makellos wondered all of this to himself as he walked through the garden, pulling fresh carrots and potatoes from the ground and dusting them carefully off.
They were not as large as the ones he saw in the palace, but the fact that this home had its own garden at all here in the woods was extremely beneficial.
There were a few sprigs of herbs growing here and there as well, so he added a few to his basket.
The garden could do with some weeding and pruning, but it could be quite lovely and bountiful with some tender loving care.
He headed back inside the coolness of the cottage.
The red-haired young man was in the corner, meat laid out on a slab of wood.
Makellos could see the feathers from the pheasant in another basket nearby, and the rabbit pelt off to the side.
It seemed like nothing would go to waste.
Makellos set firewood inside of the hearth and attempted to light it, but he had never lit a fire before, and he felt the little man’s eyes on him as he did.
He looked up sheepishly as the redhead approached him. “I am not used to doing this.”
The young man smiled, letting out a soft breath that sounded like a chuckle.
He picked up the tinder box, showing Makellos the steel and flint within, and then struck it several times to produce a spark.
It caught the bundle of dry grass the young man held, and then he set it into the hearth and blew on it.
The sparks flared, and a small fire began to glow deep within.
Makellos clapped his hands with delight.
“Thank you! I shall have to practice doing that myself sometime.”
The red-haired man let out another airy-sounding laugh before he got up and went back to his work.
Makellos finished scrubbing the large cauldron.
Once it was done, the young man returned to his side and helped him set it upright and hang it on the hook over the fire that was crackling pleasantly now.
Makellos filled the kettle with water from the pump multiple times to make the base of the soup.
He took the prepared meat and put it into the pot, since that would take longer to cook.
He was aware that the little redhead kept an eye on him as he worked.
The man grabbed a washboard and a basket of clothes.
He held them up for Makellos to see and inclined his head to the door.
“You’re going outside to wash clothes?” Makellos asked, and the young man nodded with a bright smile.
“That sounds good, I will prep the rest of dinner and get the dishes ready.” He moved over to wash and cut the vegetables as the young man walked out into the fading sunshine.
He wondered about the other occupants of the house as he laid out place settings for eight on the large wooden table.
He knew it was presumptuous of him to assume he could at least stay for dinner, but hopefully they would not turn him out without at least a bite to eat.
Fruits and nuts could only sustain him for so long, and with the weather getting colder, they would become more difficult for him to find.
He couldn’t rely on the generosity of the forest animals forever either.
He dumped the vegetables into the simmering pot, adding several handfuls of fresh herbs and some salt from a jar to the mixture, and then put the lid onto the large cauldron.
He washed the dishes he had used and put the excess peelings and roots of vegetables in the basket to take out to the garden later to scatter.
He had never learned how to grow his own vegetables and herbs, but he did remember Auntie Anne telling him that he could do that when he had leftover bits.
Especially with food being so scarce throughout the kingdom, it would not do to be wasteful.