Chapter 1

“Always beware o’ greenery in the dead o’ win’er”, the old crone spat out from her stool by the fire. Her grim words broke the silence of the room like a gust of frigid wind. It already was a blustery, eerie night in the tiny hamlet nestled at the edge of a great woods. The four people that were huddled around the hearth casted long dancing shadows along the kitchen walls. 

“You are far more terrifying than a bit of life in this damned cold place” were the rebellious thoughts of the young man sitting on the stone floor with his knees drawn up to his chest. Turning to face the fire he gazed into its warmth as the old woman spoke on.

 “Listen, an’  heed my words you young’uns. Tis unnatural, is magicked. When I was but a young girl my grandma tol’ me there were a bush that was green as spring in the middle o’ win’er. Ev’ryone feared tha’ bush, and rightly so, all but one stubborn boy” She paused only to give the boy by the fire a meaningful look. “She tole’ me ‘e right declared ‘e was gonna crawl under it ‘n prove ‘em all wrong. Ne’er came ou’ again.” She then crossed herself and looked up to the heavens as if to seek forgiveness.  

The young maid that was sitting at the table leaned lazily across it and yawned. “Agatha, that story was unbelievable 5 years ago when I first heard it, and I’m sure Mary would agree”, she says while looking up at the stoic faced middle aged cook. 

Placing a finger on her chin, Mary looked up at the ceiling as if in deep contemplation. “Hell, Nancy, it was the same 30 years ago when I started as a kitchen hand. Just as unbelievable then as well”. 

The two women broke into laughter and only caught their breath long enough to wipe the tears from their eyes. 

“That’s enough now.” The younger maid Nancy chided the old woman. “Agatha, now quit that nonsense, you’ll scare the boy away with your prattle.” 

The old woman spat into the fire and scowled “It ain’t nonsense. She weren’t no liar.” 

The others looked at each other and the cook sighed, “Ok, ok, now it’s getting late and tomorrow starts the preparations for the holiday season. Let’s all get to bed now.” The others bade each other goodnight and the boy shuffled his feet down the hall to his room. 

Shutting the door behind him he leaned his back to it and closed his eyes. He didn’t hate his situation. There were worse places to be than where he was placed. He was well aware that a single named orphan had limited to no options in the world. His room was small, but it was clean and in good repair. He just wished there was something more than the mundane everyday life of a kitchen boy. Walking over to his bed he laid down and drew the covers over his shoulders to keep the chill out. Yawning he muttered to himself drowsily. 

“Even a green bush in winter would be something to see in this place.” Sleep soon found him.  It was only broken by the vigorous shaking of Tom, the carriage driver. 

“Ezra, Ezra, wake up, it’s holiday eve. I swear if you try to fake sick on today of all days, I may just throttle you.” Tom was getting louder the more he shook the sleeping figure. 

Slowly wiping the sleep from his eyes before sitting up,Ezra yawned ”Did I oversleep? Lor’ I’m sorry..” 

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“No, remember, you said to get you up early for prep, where’s your noggin’ at, eh? Lost under that mound of black hair me thinks.” Tom joked while ruffling Ezra's hair. 

“We can’t all go around with our heads on fire like you, Tom,” Ezra joked back. Tom looked up and around while wrinkling his nose “I could never fit in a room this size. I’d get right stuck. Give me a bunk in the stables any day over these rat tunnels” The ruddy man says with a laugh. 

The two weren’t far apart in age, with Tom being 21 and Ezra at 19, but Tom always felt like he needed to look over Ezra, whose head was lost in the clouds, when they both started on the same day two years ago. Being a kitchen hand ment that Ezra often came into contact with Tom and the bond only strengthened with time. It was often remarked that they made a striking pair with Tom’s being broad with his red hair and green eyes, while Ezra was lean with his unruly mop of black hair and blue eyes. 

The great hall was festively decorated in green, red, gold and well lit with oil lamps everywhere. People were dancing around in their finest and the mood was lively. Ezra noticed that even old Agatha had a rare smile on her face as she sat in the corner of the room, tapping her toes to the beat of the music. He made the rounds of the room wishing everyone a merry eve and dancing with a few of the maids he was acquainted with before grabbing a bottle, two mugs, and finding his friend. 

Tom waved him outside and they exited the great hall to be hit by the winter's chill air. “We’re gonna have to drink quick to beat this chill” Tom said between gulps. “Don’t make yourself sick now," Ezra laughed while hitting Tom's shoulder. “Oh, shite no” Tom giggled “I’ve too much practice an’ too much of the isles in me to be so weak as such rot, ya know” He then slaps Ezra on the back, causing the smaller man to stumble a bit. “Och, Ez, my bad, you know I forget how strong I am sometimes.” Tom laughs while brushing off Ezras’ back.

“And you always slip into your Irish when you get drunk, so slow your horses. Just remember that we common folk can’t sleep tomorrow away like the Lord and Lady of the right pretentious Guilding Manor ”, Ezra retorts while nodding towards the main house.

“Oh, the main house ‘twould be a grand place to nestle, na. Imagine it, watchin’ ever-body doin’ all the days work for ya while ya prattle on ‘bout whatnot” Tom drunkenly laughed out loud. Taking an authoritative stance, Tom puts his hands on his hips and says in a mocking pantomime tone, “My deah, Lord Farthingdayle Esquire just might be having his gardener cutting his lawn quite differently this season ha ha ha” 

He turns and looks at Ezra to ask “What do you imagine it would be, bein’ the Lord of the manor there Ezra?”

Running a hand through his unruly hair, Ezra pondered a moment and took a large sip before replying with a chuckle, 

 “Honestly I’d rather see a fantastic thing like a dragon or something come out of nowhere and burn the whole damned thing to the ground over ruling anyone. The latter option seems so boring to me. As you know, though, not a word, least the Lord take my head for blasphemy.”

Tom stared back at his friend, bewildered as always. Everyone else in the realm wanted a life or relative ease and comfort, all except Ezra. He always wanted the oddest things. A simple home and family just never seemed to occur to him.  He recalled when they first met Ezra only took the kitchen job because he swore Agatha was a witch and he wanted to learn her secrets. Chuckling aloud Tom thought that Ezra was correct and Agatha was in fact a witch, just the old grumpy kind, no magic involved.”Remember when ya thought Agatha was a witch” Tom spoke his thoughts aloud. “An’ ya swore you’d get her to share her secrets?”

 “I still think she is,” Ezra replied after a long drink. “But enough reverie, Tom, my cup is empty so we must return.”

 Tom grabbed his cup and started backing away “Naw, you know I dinna like cramped indoor places, I know where to find a hidden bottle and I’ll be right back” 

Ezra rolled his eyes, knowing full well a drunken Tom would get to talking and would see neither hide nor bright red hair of Tom for a good bit. “Sure thing, just remember to keep your paws off the maids my friend”

When Tom returned with the drinks and to apologize for taking so long, the only thing he saw was Ezra's footprints in the light snow leading towards the forest….