Read Online Twelfth Krampus Night by Matt Manochio - Free Book Online

twenty toilets flow directly into the moat. And the holes are cut small enough—and the toilets situated high enough off the ground—so that invaders cannot crawl their way inside.” He smiled, expecting the filthy images they would surely conjure to sap their appetites.
    Beate gulped her duck. “And all this while I thought that smell came from some of the people who escorted us into the castle.”
    â€œHa!” Lord Karl walked behind Mumfred and clapped him on the back hard enough that the steward wobbled forward and made the table’s candle flames dance. “Good one, maiden. This place could use a little levity, given all that has transpired.” Karl turned to the steward. “Mummy, surely your position requires you to be mindful of other castle matters and not to follow around these good people of the village to make sure they don’t pocket the silverware.”
    Mumfred scowled at Beate, fuming that Karl’s intervention prevented him from reaming out the snippy peasant. “My lord, when you and your brother are ready to be fitted, please summon me and I shall arrange to have these two escorted to your—”
    â€œThat won’t be necessary.” Karl sat across from Beate and Heinrich with a plate of duck and vegetables and waved off Mumfred. “I’ll take care of things myself. Have some faith that everyone who enters the castle isn’t the scoundrel you suspect them to be.”
    Mumfred huffed away. Beate paid him no mind and marveled that a good chunk of the village—including its buildings—could stand inside the hall. She guessed it to measure one hundred and fifty feet long and seventy feet wide, with the hammer-beam ceiling at least that tall.
    â€œNormally I’d be sitting on the dais.” Karl glanced at a raised platform supporting a table at the far end of the hall. “But the baron is absent, as are other nobles. I don’t view it as slumming to be seen eating with peasants. My brother is a different story.” Karl waited for Heinrich and Beate to say something—then realized why they hadn’t. “You’ve never actually been inside the castle before, have you?”
    â€œNo, my lord,” Beate said while looking at one of the many tapestries depicting knights atop horses in the midst of battle that lined the hall’s walls. Elsewhere were shields adorned with the baron’s coat of arms. Five fireplaces, some so large that people could walk into them, heated the room. A row of stained-glass windows stretched across the top of a long wall, allowing for sunshine to occasionally light the dais.
    â€œCastle living isn’t all that it’s made out to be, I can assure you,” Karl said in between mouthfuls of carrots. “It’s cold, damp and dark most of the time. Using torches to walk around at night does nothing but clog the hallways with smoke.”
    â€œBut it’s safe here, my lord,” Beate said. “After seeing what happened to Gisela—my friend—that could not happen within these walls.”
    â€œThe castle is its own little city, Beate—if I may be so bold.” Karl looked to Heinrich.
    â€œIt’s her name, my lord.”
    â€œAs I was saying, the castle’s work staff, when fully thrumming, exceeds two hundred, at the least. When the baron entertains, you’ll see dozens of cooks in the kitchen. You’ll see bottlers and butlers. And that’s just for providing food. The castle has its own carpenters, its own chaplain. Armorers—the blacksmith, you should know!” Karl motioned to Heinrich.
    â€œOf course.”
    â€œMy point is we try to find the most honest people we can to work here. Many live in the village, many in the castle. But they’re not all saints. Jealousy, greed, envy—they don’t exclusively exist outside of the castle, waiting to breach the walls to corrupt its denizens. Immorality sleeps