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"Well, my lord," began Garstan, "I was thinking. While the wall is down, might it be wise to move the kitchen back a bit from the main hall? With all the cooking and flame in the kitchen, it makes the Great Hall over warm in summer, I'm sure. And too, should the kitchen take fire, it would spread quickly to the rest of the hall as things are. So I've seen it before where the kitchen was separated a bit. Moved away by a hall. What do you think?"
Eodwine considered. Or tried to, distracted as he was by Léof's foolish daring (though had he been younger he'd have called it roguish instead), Saeryn's comeliness, a crowd of folk all about some of whom stared and gawked in the 'wrong' direction, and a mess of a mead hall to return to. Garstan's idea was good and he saw no reason to say him nay. He brought the look of the back yard to mind. Where was Garstan thinking of building the kitchen?
Oh. That was a problem. Eodwine frowned.
"There is a beloved old alder you would have to cut down, and though no doubt we could use the wood, I would be saddened to lose it. Otherwise, your plan is good. Can you solve my problem?"
It was Garstan's turn to frown. "Allow me to think on it, lord."
Now they were in the middle of the celebrations of the race just run. Eodwine saw Garwine giving Léof a bearhug, grinning as if he owned the horse himself. Or, perhaps, had made a winning off a bet. For a brief moment Eodwine's middle stirred with a wish that he'd thought of betting on Léof; then he shook it off, knowing that it would not have happened, for he would have persuaded the youth out of it, or tried.
Léof had seen the three approaching, and looked up expectantly. It was hard to say whether he was expecting a rebuke, a pat on the back, or something else. Eodwine decided to mix his word.
"Well done, my ostler! Though I should land on your other foot with my own hoof to get some sense into you! Nevertheless, a brave race, well run!"
Eodwine chose not to mention the matter of the black steed that had been steadily gaining and seemed to 'lose heart' in the last furlong. Meanwhile, Saeryn was positively wriggling by his side with excitement.
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