Free John Saturnall's Feast by Lawrence Norfolk Page B

there.’
    ‘But you came back.’
    ‘I had no choice.’
    Another riddle, he thought. Even now.
    ‘You said you'd teach me,’ he said.
    ‘I will,’ she answered shortly. ‘Come.’
    She heaved the bag onto her shoulder and turned to the woods behind her. But as John turned to follow a flash of light caught his eye.
    It came from the distant house. A second flash followed. Then more. A row of windows was being opened, John realised. Sunlight was glinting off the panes. He stood on the slope and watched the lights flash like signals sent the length of the Vale. Then he turned and followed his mother into Buccla's Wood.

“ Take your birds and carve them each according to its Fashion. ”

From The Book of John Saturnall : For a Dish called a Foam of Forcemeats of Fowls
    true Feast has Mysteries for Parts, some clear to discern and others running deeper. Its Dishes speak in Tongues to baffle a Scholar yet a humble Cook must decipher them all. So the Air, being a Garden as Saturnus taught, a Cook must rename its Tree-tops as Beds and its Planters are Nests where Birds and Fowls fatten themselves and thrive in wondrous Variety. And to celebrate that Garden's Harvest he must exert his Art as I will tell you here.
    Take your Birds and carve them each according to its Fashion. Unbrace the Mallard, rear the Goose, lift the Swan, dismember the Hern, unjoint the Bittern, display the Crane, allay the Pheasant, wing the Partridge, thigh one each of Pigeon and Woodcock and leave a Pair of Fig-peekers whole. Pluck them and draw them then roast them till the Skins are golden. Excepting the Fig-peekers, pick the cooled Meats in Strings no thicker than Packthread, chop them fine and season alternately with Cumin and Saffron. Take Whites of Eggs and beat them to the Airiness of Clouds. Fold each of the Meats in part of the Egg.
    Fit a Pipkin close with a Cake-cage and steam it. Place the Pastes within, one inside the next divided by stiff Paper rubbed with clear Butter, the greater Birds outermost and the smaller within. At the Centre set the Fig-peekers. Let the Steam cook these Forcemeats and all the Time watch them, removing the Papers Layer by Layer. When all are risen and set, loosen the Cake-cage and lift out the set Foam of Forcemeats. Cut to show the Layers within, coloured red and yellow. Serve in Slices upon Sippets or fine Plates, as you please.

T HE PROTOCOLS WERE SIMPLE , Lady Lucretia reminded herself. She had, after all, rehearsed them so many times.
    In the presence chamber, noble ladies might approach Her Majesty. But they might not speak unless invited. In the privy chamber beyond, Her Majesty's Privy Ladies were permitted a salutation — but woe betide the courtier who presumed to direct remarks. Beyond that lay the withdrawing chamber where different rules applied. For there Her Majesty's most-beloved ladies might speak without her express leave, a privilege held by right, Lady Lucretia reminded herself, only by the wives and mistresses of visiting kings. The withdrawing chamber should be lively with whispers and shared confidences. Abuzz with snippets of gossip and advice. But that was not the innermost sanctum. Last of all, at the far end of the humming capsule, stood the door to the bedchamber proper.
    None but the Ladies of the Queen's Closet were permitted to enter there and, among these, only one in particular might sit at Her Majesty's side, might treat with Her Majesty as intimately as she pleased and be cherished by Her Majesty above all others, namely the Lady of the Footstool.
    That was Lady Lucretia.
    So, after morning service in the chapel, it was Lady Lucretia who took Her Majesty's soft hand and, ignoring the familiar griping of her stomach, led her swiftly away.
    ‘Come quickly,’ she urged Her Majesty as the two of them slipped through the crush of worshippers. Urging was permissible from the Lady of the Footstool. And haste was devoutly to be wished when the first groups of servants were