Tigen shrugged, then licked his plate.
Repentance spooned out more pudding for him. "Maybe you take after your mother. I've heard she's kind to lowborns. At any rate, I'm glad you don't hate slaves the way your father does."
"All but one," Tigen said.
"You hate one slave? Which one?"
"No, my father. He hates all but one slave."
"Which one?" She straightened up, stretched her back, and looked at the boy.
"The one he has hidden in the yak barn," he said.
"What?" She searched his face to see if he was having a joke on her, then bent to ask him quietly, "Why is your father hiding a slave in the yak barn?"
The boy shrugged.
"Shoo, now, Tigen," Cook called from the stove. "You're ruinin' your appetite and Goodwoman Hardscrabble will be glaring icicles at me on account of it. She'll likely complain to the king. You know how she is."
"She's not paying me any mind, today," Tigen replied. "She's too busy cooking for the feast my father is hosting tonight."
The kitchen door opened and the stable boys flooded in, rosy cheeked and hungry for their lunch.
Tigen quickly licked his plate, slid off the bench, and scampered out.
In the afternoon, Repentance told Cook she needed a short break.
"What for do you leave me now?" Cook stepped back from the pot of pork gravy she was stirring.
To look around the yak barn, of course. "I promised the boys that I'd take pudding down to the barn if I had any leftovers." She held up a bowl full of pudding.
"Did you settle the pans of pastries in the freeze?" Cook asked, wiping her sweaty brow.
"I delivered twelve flats of thirty-six puddingpuffs to the freezing barn this morning. And another six flats after lunch."
"I need you back here to peel my boiled potatoes. I'll be ready to fill the pork pies in two hours."
"I'll peel you a chignet of potatoes before you need them, I promise you that."
"Promises so easily made, young Repentance, are usually not so easily kept. You remember that when you're wanting a break from peeling."
Repentance ran down to the yak barn and found Reticent mucking stalls.
"Take a break," she called cheerily. "I brought you some pudding."
He smiled. "Put it in the tack room, would you? I'll wash my hands first."
"Where's Shamed?"
"Out back, ministering to a calf."
Repentance dropped the bowl of pudding on the table in the tack room, and headed out.
Shamed had a young yak cornered in a corral and was putting drops in its big, round eyes.
"I brought you some pudding," Repentance said loudly. In case anyone was listening.
When she got up to him she asked, "What are you doing with the yak?"
"He's got glare burn. Blind, he is. The drops will fix him up."
"Poor fellow." Repentance reached out to pet the baby.
Then she whispered. "Shamed, that trooper that came in the other night? Did he hide someone in the barn?"
"Haven't seen anyone." Shamed whispered back. "Or heard anyone, either, for that matter."
"If you wanted to hide someone in the barn, where would you put him?" Then she said out loud, "Don't be so scared, little fellow. Shamed is taking good care of you."
Shamed looked at her from the corner of his eye. "You want me to give you all my secrets? So you can interrupt me when I take girls there, no doubt. I've always suspected you were the jealous type, Repentance."
"You've found me out. Think on this, my comical friend: I'm working in the kitchen for the next three weeks. I have it in my power to bless your stomach or curse it. Which will it be?"
"I'm having a joke on you. No need to get mean. There's a secret room. Back of the feed bins. In the old days the troopers used it to store a cache of crossbows and arrows. If the dragons attacked the palace, well then—"
"No, no, calm down, little yak," she said out loud. "The big mean boy is almost finished torturing you."
"Who do you think is listening?" Shamed whispered.
"Finish the story."
"The barns would be the last to be attacked. So any trooper escaping the palace could come to the barns and find weapons. Now there's nothing there but straw for the occasional roll between a stable boy and a kitchen maid."
"You and Biased have tried it out?" She pictured the old maid and Shamed and couldn't help but laugh.
He punched her in the arm.
She pushed him then whispered, "Has the trooper who brought the yaks in the middle of the night come back at all?"
"Been here every day. Comes just before dinner. Says he wants to make sure I'm taking good care of his yaks."
"So he might be bringing someone food."
"Might be," Shamed said.
Repentance returned to the kitchen to peel her chignet of potatoes.
Cook stuffed and baked the pork pies, and froze several trays for the Moonlight Festival, but she kept out a couple of trays, fresh and steaming, for dinner. They smelled glorious.
Repentance hated to miss out. But Shamed had said the trooper went to the barn before dinner. So she had no choice in the matter.
"I'm not feeling well," she said, rising from the table before the meal was even served.
"The heat in here?" Cook asked.
"Headache. I think I'll grab a breath of fresh air and then go to bed."
Earlier Shamed had promised to leave the tack room door ajar. He hadn't wanted to, but she'd worn him down. He didn't want any part of any secrets in the barn,
