Read Online A Mankind Witch by Dave Freer - Free Book Online
Authors: Dave Freer
Tags: Fiction, General, Science-Fiction, Fantasy fiction, Fantasy, Contemporary, Epic, Alternative History, Kidnapping Victims, Relics, Holy Roman Empire, Norway
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the eastern frontier. But here, as at Lödöse, the food and drink were more what one expected in a minor nobleman's manor.
Their fencing companion chose to come and sit across from them. "So," he said, "I gather I have been fencing with people of high degree—who expect special treatment, although this is contrary to our oath."
His voice was guardedly neutral, but he had chosen to sit with them although there were other vacant places.
Erik pushed at the platter of highly spiced pork in front of him. "Is this food specially prepared for our benefit, then?"
"I'm enjoying it, if it is," said Manfred cheerfully. "It's a sight better than the food at Norburg in Prussia was. Not a patch on Venetian cuisine though."
The broad-faced knight looked a little taken aback. "No. This is about the usual standard. I was surprised when I joined, too."
"You should try the houses in eastern Prussia," said Manfred with a grimace. "We were there for our novitiate. They eat nothing but boiled cabbage, turnips, and gruel half the winter, I swear."
The local knight looked distinctly surprised. "I did not know that you had served a novitiate just like the rest of us, Prince Manfred."
Erik's shoulders shook slightly. "He did his best not to, believe me. He certainly did his best not to."
"Yes," said Manfred, ignoring him loftily. "I ate boiled cabbage, turnips, and gruel . . . In between praying and drilling. Or drilling and praying. Your abbot here must be an easy-going one."
"He probably doesn't have reprobates like you to plague him," Erik said, dryly.
The Ritter looked somewhat taken aback. "They made a prince drill and eat cabbage?" he said bemusedly. The idea of the cabbage especially seemed beyond him.
Erik could support that, anyway. Cabbage was something that should forever be removed from the diet of anyone who was going to be confined to armor. "As you said earlier, the order sets aside worldly rank, Ritter. The archbishop himself decreed that Manfred should be just another knight, anonymously enrolled." Erik smiled wryly. "Unfortunately, the prince just hasn't stayed anonymous enough. Word leaked out. People have a problem with leaving off the title, as the Emperor doesn't look kindly on lèse-majesté , and we're just serving our time as confreres. They think that next year they might have to please explain why they treated the prince like a lummox who eats too much," he said, pushing the pork platter away.
Manfred reached across him and helped himself to some more of the meat, anyway. "I have a big body to keep up. And I've a lot of cabbage and gruel to get over. To say nothing of the drilling."
"Oh. That was not the impression that the proctor-general gave me a little while back." The Ritter gave them a brief embarrassed smile. "I've been hauled into our abbot's office and told to watch over you and stop you infecting our squires with silly newfangled and undisciplined ideas. I am the proctor of instruction."
"Usually a penance position," said Manfred. "Erik here was given the same task—until they realized that he liked it."
The broad-faced man acknowledged the hit with another smile. "Fortunately, the abbot hasn't caught on to that yet. I was worried that that was why he'd called me in. I was told instead to come and converse with you, and to report back. It is not something that I am accustomed to being asked to do."
So, thought Erik. This was a "fishing" mission. The knight proctor was not too sure which side of the conflict he stood on. So, instead of being a good spy he was letting them know what he was doing here.
"Well, Ritter, let us introduce ourselves formally, seeing as you have orders to converse with us," said Manfred, letting his amusement show now. "I am Manfred of Brittany. The morose one complaining about good food is Erik Hakkonsen."
The knight nodded. "My name is Juzef Szpak." There was something very . . . odd about the way he said it. As if expecting trouble, and
Their fencing companion chose to come and sit across from them. "So," he said, "I gather I have been fencing with people of high degree—who expect special treatment, although this is contrary to our oath."
His voice was guardedly neutral, but he had chosen to sit with them although there were other vacant places.
Erik pushed at the platter of highly spiced pork in front of him. "Is this food specially prepared for our benefit, then?"
"I'm enjoying it, if it is," said Manfred cheerfully. "It's a sight better than the food at Norburg in Prussia was. Not a patch on Venetian cuisine though."
The broad-faced knight looked a little taken aback. "No. This is about the usual standard. I was surprised when I joined, too."
"You should try the houses in eastern Prussia," said Manfred with a grimace. "We were there for our novitiate. They eat nothing but boiled cabbage, turnips, and gruel half the winter, I swear."
The local knight looked distinctly surprised. "I did not know that you had served a novitiate just like the rest of us, Prince Manfred."
Erik's shoulders shook slightly. "He did his best not to, believe me. He certainly did his best not to."
"Yes," said Manfred, ignoring him loftily. "I ate boiled cabbage, turnips, and gruel . . . In between praying and drilling. Or drilling and praying. Your abbot here must be an easy-going one."
"He probably doesn't have reprobates like you to plague him," Erik said, dryly.
The Ritter looked somewhat taken aback. "They made a prince drill and eat cabbage?" he said bemusedly. The idea of the cabbage especially seemed beyond him.
Erik could support that, anyway. Cabbage was something that should forever be removed from the diet of anyone who was going to be confined to armor. "As you said earlier, the order sets aside worldly rank, Ritter. The archbishop himself decreed that Manfred should be just another knight, anonymously enrolled." Erik smiled wryly. "Unfortunately, the prince just hasn't stayed anonymous enough. Word leaked out. People have a problem with leaving off the title, as the Emperor doesn't look kindly on lèse-majesté , and we're just serving our time as confreres. They think that next year they might have to please explain why they treated the prince like a lummox who eats too much," he said, pushing the pork platter away.
Manfred reached across him and helped himself to some more of the meat, anyway. "I have a big body to keep up. And I've a lot of cabbage and gruel to get over. To say nothing of the drilling."
"Oh. That was not the impression that the proctor-general gave me a little while back." The Ritter gave them a brief embarrassed smile. "I've been hauled into our abbot's office and told to watch over you and stop you infecting our squires with silly newfangled and undisciplined ideas. I am the proctor of instruction."
"Usually a penance position," said Manfred. "Erik here was given the same task—until they realized that he liked it."
The broad-faced man acknowledged the hit with another smile. "Fortunately, the abbot hasn't caught on to that yet. I was worried that that was why he'd called me in. I was told instead to come and converse with you, and to report back. It is not something that I am accustomed to being asked to do."
So, thought Erik. This was a "fishing" mission. The knight proctor was not too sure which side of the conflict he stood on. So, instead of being a good spy he was letting them know what he was doing here.
"Well, Ritter, let us introduce ourselves formally, seeing as you have orders to converse with us," said Manfred, letting his amusement show now. "I am Manfred of Brittany. The morose one complaining about good food is Erik Hakkonsen."
The knight nodded. "My name is Juzef Szpak." There was something very . . . odd about the way he said it. As if expecting trouble, and
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