Talon of the Silver Hawk by Raymond E. Feist Page B

nobles and guests of stature eat. Tonight you’ll serve in there.’’
    He paused and rummaged through the shelves until he came away with a long white tunic. “Put this on,” he said to Talon.
    Talon did so and found the tunic came to the midpoint between hip and knee. There were drawstrings at the cuff of the puffy sleeves, and he tied them.
    â€œLet me see your hands, boy,” Leo demanded.
    Talon held out his hands, and Leo said, “I’m not thefanatic for washing up some are, but you can’t be serving nobility with blood from a skinning under your nails.” He pointed back into the kitchen, and said, “Go back and wash up. Use the brush to get the blood out.’’
    Talon moved back through the serving room into the kitchen and found a large bucket of soapy water used to clean the pots and dishes. He saw Lela standing before the wooden table Gibbs had vacated, finishing up the vegetables. He started to wash his hands, and she glanced over and smiled. “Serving tonight?’’
    â€œI guess,” Talon answered. “I haven’t been told.’’
    â€œYou’re wearing a server’s tunic,” she informed him. “So you’re serving.’’
    â€œWhat do I do?” asked Talon, trying to suppress a sudden nervousness in his stomach.
    â€œLeo will tell you,” Lela said with a bright smile. “It’s easy.’’
    Talon inspected his hands and saw the blood was gone from his nails. He returned to the hall, where Leo waited.
    â€œTook you long enough,” said the cook with a playful tone. Talon was beginning to think that this cook was a lot like his grandfather had been, playful with his scolding, never truly meaning a word of it. “Come along,” Leo said.
    Talon followed him into the dining room. It was a long room with a huge table, the biggest the Orosini boy had ever seen. At each end sat a pair of high-backed chairs, with eight along the length on each side. The wood was oak, but ancient, polished by years of wear and oil and rags, and it shone with a dark golden color stained by thousands of spilled wine goblets and ale mugs, giving it a varied hue from one end to the other. Leo saw the boy’s expression, and said, “Kendrick’s table. It’s legendary. Cut from the bole of an ancient oak in a single piece. Took a score of men and two mules to haul it here.” He glanced up and wavedhis hand. “Kendrick built this room around it.” He smiled as he cupped his chin with his right hand in thought. “Don’t know what he’d ever do had he to replace it. We could cut this one up with axes for firewood, but how’d we ever get another in?”
    Talon ran his hand over the surface and found it smooth.
    â€œA thousand rags in the hands of hundreds of boys like yourself. You’ll have your turn at it.” He turned and put his hands on his hips. “Now, here’s what you’ll be doing.” He pointed to a long side table. “In a few minutes, some large pitchers of ale will be fetched in here as well as some large decanters of wine, then you’ll have your work to do. See those goblets?” he asked, pointing to those already upon the table.
    Talon nodded.
    â€œSome of them will be filled with ale. Others will be filled with wine. Do you know the difference?”
    Talon suddenly found himself wanting to smile. He kept his face straight as he said, “I’ve tasted both.’’
    Leo feigned a frown. “In front of the guests you will call me ‘Master Cook,’ is that clear?’’
    â€œYes, Master Cook.’’
    â€œWell, then, where was I?” He looked puzzled a moment. “Oh, yes, your task is to stand upon this side of the table. This side only, is that clear?’’
    Talon nodded.
    â€œObserve the guests before you. There will be six on this side, seven upon the other, and two guests will be