Wynter's Thief by Sherryl Jordan

Author:Sherryl Jordan
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: OneTree House Publishers
Published: 2020-11-15T00:00:00+00:00

Narrative 10: Wynter

Linnet stares at me with disbelief, her red lips curving. “You really don’t know?” she says, and though she smiles, it is not mockery, but surprise.

“I’ve never been told, except what the priests say in church,” I tell her.

She bends her brow against the cow’s side and continues milking. I wait, watching the milk spurt rhythmically into the wooden bucket. The cow is patient, kindly, and I stroke her neck and in my heart thank her for her gift to us.

It is early morning, and the physician has gone to see Lady Adelaide, who suffered pains in the night; I am free for an hour or so. I am in the cow house, a long wooden barn with a thatched roof, where the cows are kept for the night. Other cows are also being milked, and a cowherd lingers in the doorway, a stick in his hand, waiting to lead the animals to pasture when they are finished.

Through the wall nearby I hear pigs squealing and grunting, and a boy shouting as he feeds them. It sings with busyness, this manor farm, and I hope Linnet has time to talk to me properly, before I have to hurry back.

She finishes her task, gets up from her small stool and picks up the bucket. It is full almost to the brim, and she says, “We’ll talk on the way to the manor. I take milk to the manor kitchen for the lord’s table, every morn.”

So we go out, and I grasp one side of the bucket handle, to help carry it. We go past the long dormitory where Linnet sleeps with the other farm maids, and the big hay barn, and the barley barn. As we go through the poultry yard a little girl is throwing grain, and the white and brown hens flutter and cluck savagely as we disturb their meal. At last we are on the dirt road to the manor, and Linnet says, “Right. Time for your first lesson about the sweet sin of fornication. Stop me at any time if I don’t explain clearly enough.”

She explains wondrously well, and at times I must look exceeding shocked, because she struggles very hard not to laugh. Sometimes I giggle for sheer embarrassment and disbelief, and we both chortle so much we almost spill the milk. By the time we reach the manor gates, I consider myself well educated, though what all the fuss is about, I cannot understand.

“It sounds mighty uncomfortable and inconvenient,” I say.

“Maybe it is. To be true, I’ve never done it. I’ve just told you what the girls in the dormitory talk about at night, after the candles have been blown out.”

“So you don’t truly know,” I say, relieved, for it sounded preposterous to me.

At that moment we reach the manor kitchen, and my friend Summer hurries over and takes the milk. “You’re late,” she says to Linnet. She adds to me, “They’re searching for you, Wynter, in the house. I heard that the physician is with Lady Adelaide, and he’s ill-tempered.

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