“Also, everyone is given a shift for supper. You’ve been given one bell as your meal assignment, first seating, one bong repeated seven times. Other seatings have different bells. There are bells for other things as well, emergencies, fires, report for duty. You’ll get used to hearing them. Serving three meals takes about ten hours, two each for breakfast and lunch, more than six for supper. One crew does breakfast and lunch, another crew does supper. Tonight there will be three other seatings after this one.”
“That’s eight thousand people,” said Xulai wonderingly.
“Eight thousand if we’re full. Actually, none of the seatings are completely full. We have about six thousand in this arm of the abbey. Temporary guests don’t eat here. Passersby are fed in the guest arm at the north end of the abbey, just inside the northernmost gate in the outer circle. It’s near the guest housing. We don’t really want people in here who are just passing through. It’s too confusing for them.”
“You said, ‘in this arm of the abbey,’ ” said Black Mike. “There are others?”
Sister nodded. “Well, for instance, there’s food service in what we call an anytime arm at the south end, inside the southernmost gate between walls two and three. Anytime service is for the soldiers and guards and people doing other kinds of work where they have to eat when they can. Some kinds of work you can’t just put down and walk away from because it’s lunchtime, you know? Then there are the separated arms, back in the mountains, some large, some small. Forestry has a couple. The farms have a dozen or so. Military has several. Those places have their own kitchens. That’s where the men who went to Woldsgard came from.”
“Why do you call them arms?” asked Xulai.
Sister Tomea laughed. “Because there are hands at the end of them, busy doing things. Only the choir has no arms, just voices.”
All of this was a good deal to take in. The huge dining hall was noisy but not deafening, despite the chatter going on. Xulai took note of several tall, rangy individuals with long gray hair who mounted tall daises at each corner of the room and made rapid notations on a chart. The talleymen, said Sister, each one responsible for a certain block of tables. When almost everyone had finished and was just sitting there, dishes stacked, the tallymen went to the dais where the abbot sat, handed him their tally sheets, and retreated. The abbot summoned several of the men and women waiting near the table, handed out the lists. When they had departed, he leaned forward and struck a bell. Immediately everyone rose, heads bowed. The abbot said a few words, both the sound and sense of them lost in echoes, struck the bell again, and everyone moved, most of them streaming toward the doors, others, those on kitchen duty, toward the scullery hatch.
“What did we eat?” asked Oldwife as they left. “I was so caught up in what you were saying, Sister, I didn’t notice.”
“Lamb stew,” said Nettie. “A dish of grain with herbs and onions. A dish of carrots, beets, and parsnips, chopped fine and cooked with butter, vinegar, and sugar. Where do you get butter and sugar, Sister?”
“Butter from our own cows, sugar from the southlands or honey from our own bees. We trade wool and leather for things we can’t grow here. Our own orchards produce cider and vinegar.”
“Ah,” said Pecky Peavine. “We also had greens, bread, milk—very good milk—and some fruit. Everything good, though Mike was saying he’d have preferred beer.”
“He may have that,” said Sister Tomea. “Those who wish it may bring it to evening meal or may have it in their own rooms. The cellarer will be available in the morning. He keeps beer and wine for sale.”
“For sale?” asked Xulai. “Do all these people get paid?”
Sister Tomea said, “All sworn members of the abbey get a personal allowance to spend as they see fit. On books. On wine. On fancy clothes or weapons to wear when they’re off duty. People who are traveling through or lodging here or studying here pay for their housing and food. We presume they have their own money for wine or whatever. To its members, the abbey provides only needful things: shelter, food, clothing, warmth in winter, education and training and the means to stay clean.”
“And how does the abbey make money?” Precious Wind asked.
“We have many profitable endeavors. The abbey’s products are well known. Our school is famous. People pay to have their children educated here. People pay for the foods we produce, the crafts we create. They pay for the armed men who protect their caravans on the desert, their curricles on the road, their caravels on the sea—though that’s not frequent these days. They hire the guides who take them through places like the Lake of the Clouds. The lodging for the ten of you has been paid for by Justinian, Duke of Wold, as has Xulai’s schooling. The abbot would not ask that we labor without pay, not even for friends.”
“Yet one would suppose you have many friends, all around the world,” said Precious Wind.
Sister Tomea smiled, a small, catlike smile. “I do not presume to say it is true, but one might suppose that, yes. Now, one more thing before I take you back to your rooms. Those of us with blue veils and stoles are responsible for
