Surprisingly, despite the news that Cadfael was coming to Oxby, no one in the barracks felt the need to herd Lou or Benny out of the kitchen as it didn’t really affect the kitchen. It was also helpful that Lieutenant Crimmins was the one giving out the orders from the sergeant on how they were expected to host the infamous hero, and having been thoroughly enjoying his time in the choir, was feeling more amenable to Lou on the whole. A fact that earned Lou quite a few looks ranging from suspicion to outright annoyance from many of the soldiers.

Lou vaguely recalled that Karen Hinterland had once warned him that many of the soldiers who had survived the war took exception to religion, but didn’t dwell on this for long, nor did he try to bring up the earlier topic of Benny and Oliver’s torrid past.

The reason being…

It was taking every ounce of him to appear outwardly calm.

Why was Cadfael coming to Oxby?

Had the temple sent him?

Why would the temple have done that?

Was it because he had become the new war priest?

What if the temple hadn’t sent Cadfael there?

As Lou finished mashing together the strawberries and rhubarb, he tried to think rationally, though his heart was pounding so ferociously that it felt like even his brain was vibrating.

It might have nothing to do with me that he’s coming. I might be overly sensitive to his presence because of everything going on, and all is well. Who knows? I may not even see him while he’s here!

“Brother Lou, you’re getting the berries all over your shirt.”

Benny called out quietly to the monk, snapping the man out of his deep, troublesome thoughts.

Lou blinked, and tried to force himself back to the present, though it felt like his mind was wading through endless gallons of water whilst doing so.

“Ah.” The monk looked down at his faded tunic and noted the tell tale signs of red splatter. “It’s alright, I normally wear my robes anyway.”

Benny smiled. “We can wash that now before the stains set.”

“That’s alright.” Lou backed away while speaking, and instantly felt like an idiot for doing so when he noticed Benny’s startled reaction.

Realizing what the young man had to be thinking, Lou quickly explained. “I don’t really care about my clothes, and it’d be a mite awkward being seen without a shirt on in here.”

The shadow of hurt in Benny’s face lightened, but not completely. “Fair enough.”

Lou nodded and stepped back to the table to resume his work while his mind instantly tried to produce a change of topic that could bring about the mood of the room.

“So who are these families we will be visiting today?”

Benny continued setting the circular pieces of dough down in the baking tray and responded without missing a beat. “I plan on introducing you to the Duffy and Atell families. They both have children and are more… open minded compared to a lot of the old residents. They even tried to remain neutral when the post was initially established.”

“Until Marta Decker?”

Forgetting that both himself and Jack Macaphery had informed Lou of the woman’s involvement in turning the old and new residents against each other, Benny finally tore his attention away from the tarts he was making to stare at Lou in surprise.

When he belatedly remembered, he gave a slow nod. “Yes. Until Marta Decker.”

“If I might ask… What exactly did Marta Decker do?”

Benny grimaced and busied himself once again with making the tarts. “That is… a hard question to answer. Do you mind if I don’t get into that today, Brother Lou?”

Of course the Oxby local’s reaction made Lou all the more curious, but he forced himself to bite his tongue and instead resumed preparing the desserts.

The pair continued working in silence for the remainder of their time together. Despite this, Lou felt his stress intensify in his chest, building and building…

It wasn’t until they were loading the tarts into the oven that it dawned in him what was making the entire situation worse.

He couldn’t talk to anyone about it.

Oliver was gone in another town, trying to find a wife… And he had been the only person to know about Lou’s predicament.

The monk glanced at Benny out of the corner of his eye as the young man began tidying up the cooking table.

Should he tell someone else?

Was that a good idea?

Oliver had only found out because he had kept popping up randomly…

Benny had certainly confided in Lou a great deal, but then again that was how it should have been. Lou was supposed to be a holy leader. He was supposed to mind his own personal burdens and remain impartial and open to those around him who needed spiritual help and guidance.

That being said, most monks had at least an apprentice with them. It was rare– save for the extraordinarily small towns– to have only one abbott or monk. That being said, Oxby had been miniscule until recently…

“I’m sorry if I’ve burdened you today.”

Lou’s head snapped round to stare at Benny who was gazing at the closed oven door with pinkened cheeks. Whether that was due to the rolling heat off the stove or his feelings, it was unclear.

“Benny, you have nothing to apologize for. I’m sorry for not being more present to you while you confide in me.” Lou let out a sigh, and forced a tenuous calm into his being.

“Sometimes, Brother, you seem like you’re scared of something. I noticed it last night in the pub, and today… It’s like you’re carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders.”

Resisting a guilty flinch, Lou rounded his toes toward Benny, his hands clasped in front of himself.

“I suppose I’m just having a hard time adjusting in a new town. I’ve never been very good with change,” Lou gave what he hoped was a sincere smile, but Benny merely shook his head and lowered his eyes, looking oddly disappointed, and saying nothing in response.

It wasn’t until the tarts were finished baking and pulled from the oven to cool, that the Oxby local spoke again.

“Oliver was always good at keeping things to himself. It was one of the reasons it was always easy to tell him hard things. Because I knew no matter what, unless I said otherwise, he wouldn’t repeat anything.”

Lou’s fingertips brushed against his palm though he gave a polite smile to Benny.

Somehow, the comment seemed pointed…

“It sounds like he was a good partner and friend to you. I’m sorry that things did not have a happy ending,” Lou bobbed his head, but wasn’t able to meet Benny’s gaze, and so he redirected his attention to the tarts.

“What do you think? Will these stop any doors slamming in our faces?”

Laughing, Benny looked around the kitchen and located two bread baskets that they could borrow to deliver their treats of bribery.

“I think they might even listen to your name.”

Lou smiled at the cheery desserts, the bright, euphoric, fruity middles gleaming in the warm light of the kitchen.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

He remembered how Brother Juggins used to say cooking and baking had a way of making at least a corner of one’s life whole.

“Here we are.” Benny returned to the table with the baskets, having already located two black linen napkins to line them with. “I chose the black to avoid staining any of the cook’s other ones, though these ones look like they are for fancier occasions.”

Opening his mouth to suggest that perhaps they ask the tempestuous Mr. Soren before leaving to ensure it was alright, Lou didn’t get the chance to say a word, as in strut Alfred Bishop, his eyes bright while whistling a bright tune.

“Smells delicious in here!” Alfred eyed the baskets in Benny’s hands. “You weren’t thinking of taking off with my cut of the deal were you?”

Benny chuckled. “Of course not, Private. Here are your six.”

“Six?! You easily have eighteen there!”

“Ah, well the Duffy family has four boys, plus the couple themselves, so six to them, but they’re a large lot so I thought I’d throw in a few more.”

“Generous until it comes to your benefactor, eh? Thas’ no wa’ to run a buisneth you know.” Alfred had took a bite from one of tarts while chastising Benny. Though it stopped there as he was forced to open his mouth and allow the baked good that was burning his tongue to cool better.

Lou eyed the steam still wafting up from the desserts, ignoring the private’s pain, and felt pleased with the results.

“If you feel it’s that unfair I’ll be happy to return to make you more, though I don’t think the cook would be too pleased about that.” Benny started carefully packing the pastries into the baskets.

“Soren? Aaah. His bark is worse than his bite. He’s just used to having to drop the hammer down on the more wild lads trying to steal food from his stocks.” Alfred waved off the notion that their cook was anything more than mildly troubled.

However this claim immediately fell flat thanks to the dark, hulking shadow of Mr. Soren hovering in the doorway, glaring murderously at Alfred’s back.

Benny disguised a laugh into a cough.

“Mr. Soren, thank you kindly for the use of your kitchen. We will clean it up just as it was before and be on our way. We’ll return your basket and clothes washed as well in no time,” Lou swept forward while moving around Alred who actually jumped when he realized the cook was standing behind him.

Mr. Soren’s face reddened when he eyed the fine black napkins cradling the tarts. His dark eyes swiveled over to Alfred who put his hands in the air and began backing away.

“Now, now, Sunny Soren-”

The cook growled and Alfred tried to back up even faster but ended up bumping the table.

“We are terribly sorry, Mr. Soren!” Benny jumped in and stood beside Alfred, his blue eyes as wide and pleading as a puppy’s.

“Yes, we simply didn’t want to stain your other towels,” Lou added, though he was beginning to experience yet another bout of divine violent urges thanks to the dangerous aura emanating from the cook.

Sadly, he didn’t think slapping the cook in the face would have the same outcome it did with the corporal at the tavern…

“Get. Out.”

The first and only words Soren had spoken since Lou and Benny had met him came out of the man’s mouth, revealing several missing teeth, and making him all the more terrifying.

Needing no more motivation, both Benny and Lou fled the room after seizing their baskets. They turned back in the doorway, realizing that Alfred was not with them.

They only then realized he was practically nose to nose with the cook.

“Alfred!” Benny made a move to re-enter the room, but Lou caught his arm.

“It’s fine! Go without me! I’ll… I’ll maybe see you back at the pub one day!”’ Alfred called back, though he could only spare them the quickest of looks as a growl ignited in Soren’s throat, and sweat started to bead along the private’s brow– Though it could have been because the room was sweltering in the summer heat and from the oven being used…

Benny saluted the private while Lou, caught between laughing at their theatrics and being concerned for their new friend, tugged Benny along toward the nearest exit. Toward safety, and their freedoms.

*

Lou and Benny sat quietly on the driver’s seat of Lou’s cart as they rolled over the sloping grassy hills toward the Duffy farm.

“Alfred will be fine,” Lou attempted to soothe Benny’s worried expression from his face.

“I know, but… I feel bad.”

“Alfred strikes me as the type to be good at getting out of trouble,” Lou observed with a small grin.

“You’re probably right… By the way… Call me wool minded, Brother Lou, but for a minute it looked like you debated slapping Mr. Seron just like you did Corporal Hillier last night.”

Lou’s eyes went wide and he grew rigid.

It had been that obvious?!

“I know I’m imagining things though.” Benny sighed though he smiled as he did so, unaware that he had accurately read the monk. “I think it’s because you aren’t wearing your monk robes today that I’m looking at you as any other person.”

It dawned on Lou then.

Why hadn’t he worn his robes?

Sure it happened that now and again monks didn’t wear them– usually on laundry days, but… What about that morning had made him forget? He had even noted it when he splattered strawberry juice on himself, and he hadn’t thought twice about it!

Lou’s eyes darted toward his knees, and upon seeing his worn, black trousers, suddenly felt a peculiar mixture of exposure, and yet… was also reminded of the fact that seven years ago, he had been just a normal young man around Benny’s age…

“There you go… Looking frightened and sad again. Is it against the rules not to wear your robes?” Benny asked gently, his tone sympathetic.

Lou swallowed, and for the second time in a day, was saved having to answer thanks to a surprise interruption.

The cart was rolling toward a large, well tended white washed home with two stories, and pretty green shutters that matched the green front door.

However, an unholy shriek rang out from the house.

Lou gaped at the picturesque house that clashed with the blood curdling bellow that had just rang from it.

“Ah… Sorry to say, Brother Lou, I think we might have caught Mrs. Duffy on a bad day.”

“OWEN DUFFY YOU GET BACK HERE AND CLEAN THIS UP!”

Lou looked at Benny, still awestricken, then back at the house without pulling his pony to a halt.

He swallowed but did not change their direction.

It reminded Lou a great deal of the time he went to visit the Kelly house…

Incredibly, the similarity wound up being more comforting than perhaps was normal, but Lou didn’t care to think on that new quirk of his and instead answered Benny’s questioning look about why they weren’t turning around.

“It’s alright. Something tells me that no matter where I go these days, I’m going to find myself involved in some kind of fight.”