Eorling Mead Hall

[Nogrod]

Stigend had been really nervous to hear how Garstan would react to his criticism of the plan. After all, he wouldn't have wanted to go so far this openly but Eodwine's gaze had pressured him to continue. Maybe that was his way of checking his subordinates honesty and loyalty?

As Garstan started talking he almost froze. But what he heard made him relieved word by word and strengthened his earlier conviction that he indeed had a respectable and good-hearted partner. Even though he disagreed with the overtly careful ways of the rich in principle, you just don't leave your fires burn at nights and build the wall with stone which doesn't set alight, he had to admit that Garstan had a point in his plan with the fire-safety. Fires did happen. A humble cabin was relatively easy to build again if something happened and normally there were not anything too valuable to cry after. But it was different here. Even though with his experience, all the fires started from the utmost carelessness or lousy constructions, which he just couldn't figure happening here.

He looked at Garstan in the eye and nodded to him in agreement but didn't open his mouth. He had been talking just too much for the time being. The good lord and lady and the old Marenil should have their say now.

[JennyHallu]

Marenil sat back, leaning back in his chair. Of kitchens he knew little, and although he supported the idea of the kitchen being a separate building, he felt it best to do so silently. Especially since he had so much to suggest. He had been disheartened, and in an odd way, excited, by the state of Eodwine's books.

They had been tidy, yes, and while the lord's heavy handwriting spoke to self-teaching, Marenil assumed the odd spelling was a result of the relative youth of the Rohirric tongue to his own. Writing was in itself a fairly new art for these people, though their oral history was rich and their memory long enough to rival any of the sea-kings of yore.

No, what Marenil disapproved of most were the figures themselves. Two columns, one for income and one for spending; it was not a complex or unusual system. Only-the one for spending contained far more and larger entries than the one for income. The entries for foodstuffs, at least, were regular, well organized, and in bulk, speaking to Frodides' firm control of her sphere, but far larger than the size of the permanent household warranted. Everything else was haphazard, with things purchased a little at a time, and things purchased that Eodwine should have been producing for himself long ago.

It's what comes of two running a large household who never have before, he thought, looking sharply at the Lord and his young Lady. The Hall hadn't been previously set up to support itself: as an Inn, it made its own income in custom, which Eodwine refused to charge. An' that's all right, Marenil admitted reluctantly, but there's a better way to do it. Eodwine was new to the whole business, and Marenil suspected that Saeryn's family holdings were smaller, and probably a farmhold, at that. Lass hadn't the least notion of what to do with a hold in a city, or how much she could get away with, and there's been no one to ask. She hadn't done that bad a job, considering what she had to work with, but Marenil did know what could be done, and intended to send Eodwine's sinking financial ship onto a new course, just as soon as he could get a firm grip on the rudder.

Of course...the challenge was that it might take a great deal of money just to get settled onto the proper course, but if Eodwine could be talked into making a loan of the King, Marenil could get it paid back in a year, maybe two, and turn a profit for his new lord at the same time.

And now, in a plan of what buildings were needed...time to make his first move.

"These men you've got here are quite knowledgeable," he said, meaning every word. He'd worked with many artisans through the years, and these seemed to take a pride and pleasure in their work that did their crafts good justice. "I think between 'em, they'll work out a good plan for the kitchen, especially if they ask Frodides, who knows all there is to know about a good kitchen, I think.

"We should also consider, though, what other buildings you'll be needing, Lord Eodwine. Your house is almost full to capacity, and more arrive daily to take their oath with you. You should have a barracks, with some private space for the captain of your guard, and room for armsmen and freemen. You have long been in need of a bower, and the women's work your Lady could direct there could do a great deal to help your house. A Healer is in training, already on oath to you. When she returns, a stillroom would be appropriate, as a place for her to work. And then some simple projects: a smoke-shed, a chicken-coop, space to keep some few livestock, for the benefit of your house, and I should like Master Stigend here to take a look with me at the attic-space, to see if we can create some living space there, so that your household can all be housed, and with the luxury of as much privacy as you can spare them, and leave most of the old Inn for high-ranking guests and your own business."

[Alcarillo]

Poor soul, that Trystan. The privies were a stinking pool of hot fumes and odors. Garwine had seen Kara clean them out before. They contained in their murky depths countless bucketfuls of filth, and once they were shoveled out, they had to be carried to the Ravine. And then it was back to the privies to shovel some more, and then back to the Ravine, and so on. A rigorous and messy task. It was an odd chore for Eodwine to assign to a newcomer…

The kiss…It was plain that Lord Eodwine did not approve of Trystan. He was a rather scruffy fellow…and bold. He had arrived only today, and already appeared to be courting Lady Saeryn...with Lord Eodwine playing the part of the protective father?

Garwine reminded himself it was not his place to concern himself with the personal affairs of his superiors. He had other business to care to, like showing Trystan to the privies.

He led Trystan to the dark hallway leading down to the privies, halfway down the residential wing. They stood at the entrance, Garwine not daring to face the stench if he could help it. "The privies are down there," he told Trystan, pointing. "Shovels and buckets are kept in the closet under the stairs. Usually these are stored to the right to separate them from the buckets used for other chores, even after they're washed. A matter of public health, I'm told. Anyways, to clean out the privies, you just shovel the, um, waste into the buckets and carry it down to the Ravine."

"Where is the Ravine?"

"Not very far from here. You just walk down the slope and eventually you'll come to a large ditch filled with similar waste. That's the Ravine. Everybody in Edoras throws their rubbish there. Also, remember to carry the filth out a back door. And be discreet. Here, I'll show you the shovels…"

He walked Trystan over to the closet under the stairs, and once he had a bucket in one hand and a shovel in the other, Garwine gave him a grin of encouragement and, with a firm hand, guided him to the privies' hallway, only leaving after he had seen Trystan disappear into the gloom.