The Flower of Serving Men - 3. Chapter 3

"William, could you bring these sheets down for washing?"

Ellis turned his head and saw one of the king's personal chamber maids, Lottie, struggling with a hamper overflowing with sheets. He took the sheets, managing the weight but not expecting it. "Maker, what's entangled in these, rocks?"

"I'm pretty sure that child Sullivan has tossed in a pair of greaves or two in there," she remarked, wincing as she straightened her back. "Glad to have someone worthwhile around."

Ellis nodded and jostled to adjust his grip on the hamper. "It's only been two weeks; I'm sure we'll meet some more mature folk here."

"I sincerely doubt it," Lottie remarked. "Alright, sir. I better tend to the other rooms. Just come back once you've set that down. Otherwise, I'm hunting you down."

Ellis smiled warmly and patted her shoulder. "I'll try my best not to abandon you."

"You'd better!" She scurried off to do the rest of the rooms, and Ellis hauled the heavy laundry down for washing. In his two weeks of stay, he was put immediately to work, and often they were under the governing eye of the seneschal. Even in the servants' passageways did the man tend to watch them. He expected the man had more duties on his plate, but he couldn't shake off the feeling of that stare, of that gaze following him wherever he went. It didn't make his skin crawl, per se. But it made him paranoid. The paintings began to feel like they watched him, judged him. And one slip up could mean his downfall.

But he'd had plenty of chances to make mistakes, and make them he did. But no hell had fallen on him yet. But then lions always savored their meal.

He set the hamper down next to a scrubber, who eyed the load with disdain. "You know, I think they line these sheets with silver."

"They must be a nightmare when wet," Ellis regarded.

"Winter months are usually harsh here," the scrubber answered, pulling the heavy cloth to join them with the others. "We're lucky the king is so generous. My old lord would never offer such nice, warm shelters to us servants."

"That is quite the shame. My former lords were quite taken with me."

"How's that so?"

"I'm familiar with the whole family."

The man stopped from his cleaning and looked up at him. "Familiar? How'd that come about? And why'd you leave?"

Ellis shrugged, schooling his face. "A dear friend passed, and I had to leave. I couldn't bring myself to stay there any longer."

The man grunted and returned to his work. "Sounds more than a dear friend there, mate."

"Maybe," Ellis chuckled. "I better get back to Lottie. She'll be mighty prissy with me if I don't help her finish."

"Give the girl my regards. She works harder than half of us."

"I'm sure we all work just as hard. Or try to, anyway." Ellis headed back to the upper rooms, just in time to see Lottie dusting off some of the chairs in the King's chambers. Three other girls were with her, sorting through what to drag downstairs. "Am I still needed here, ladies?"

"Oh Ellis, there you are!" Lottie cheered. "We're just sorting the hampers for downstairs. You did bring some hampers back with you, I hope?"

Ellis raised a hand with only one hamper. "I fear we're missing a few."

"Can you go fetch more then?" one of the ladies quipped, looking up at him with a shy smile. "We'll need more than one."

"I didn't see any spares but I'll be glad to check again."

"That will have to wait," a voice called, making everyone in the room jump to attention. The seneschal stood at the doorway, eyeing the room with some approval. "Good work, you lot. But I'm afraid I have to borrow William here for a moment."

Ellis' blood ran cold as he considered the implications. "Sir?"

"Come with me to my study, William. We have much to discuss." And the man walked off, undoubtedly expecting Ellis to follow. He looked back to his fellow servants, who eyed him with fearful compassion. Ellis gave them a reassuring smile before running to catch up to the seneschal.

Only their footsteps echoed the halls, and the silence was as awkward as it was eerie. "What is it we're to talk about, my lord?"

"Seneschal, if you please," the seneschal offered. "Or maybe Master Sebastian. And this business is better discussed in private."

Maker, Ellis prayed. He didn't like the seneschal's tone. It was foreboding. Was he going to be cast out?

The seneschal's study was already cleaned to the man's liking. Dusted, mopped, and sheets changed. It was the pinnacle of spotless. Even the man's desk was organized. Ellis didn't dare read the papers strewn about. Most of the other servants couldn't read at all, so they were safe to mill about. In all honesty, they didn't ask such a question during the hiring process, nor the interrogations after. But maybe the seneschal needed some time to plan his own interrogations.

Ellis stood as the seneschal sat, but the man offered him the second seat nearby. Ellis eyed the seat warily, his gaze moving between it and the seneschal. Seneschal Sebastian cleared his throat, and urged with his eyes. Ellis finally sat.

"I understand you're from the house Gallahad, yes?"

"Yes, sir."

"So how long were you married to the Gallahad boy?"

No subtlety, but a direct attack, enough to make Ellis choke on his own spit. "P-Pardon?"

"We've had you investigated. Records of a William Valen were present but scarce. You mentioned being a doctor and the people did not mention your name, but another: an Ellis Gallahad. Now, that did not match to the family tree, but apparently we overlooked the fact that you were married to the now-late Dallas Gallahad."

Ellis couldn't speak. An icy grip held his throat.

"We confronted the House Gallahad about this. They did not state your reason, saying it was a private affair and your decision alone. But they saw fit to stitch this new identity for you." Ellis wanted to speak, but a croak escaped instead. Sebastian quickly held his hand up. "Let me finish. We know about your husband's death. And your son's. We were told the lone survivor was just a spouse, really. They were too injured to be given recompense personally, but the aide was allegedly declined, according to the House. Is this true?"

Ellis nodded numbly. "It is, Seneschal. I just couldn't find myself accepting all of that. It did not feel right."

"I understand your concerns but those funds will be set aside for you for whenever you need it; the Gallahads promised as much."

"'Tis unnecessary."

"'Tis their choice. Which brings me to ask what to do now."

"I beg your pardon, Seneschal?"

"You have a choice here, Ellis. I don't doubt your intentions; I have good intuition for these sorts of things. But whether you continue your service here or not is entirely up to you."

"I appreciate the offer but I must decline," Ellis answered, resolute. "I've already made my decision with the Gallahads. I will stand by it."

"A servant's life must not be as lucrative as a doctor's."

"My hands are not fit for it any longer," he argued. "A doctor's hands are his greatest asset. I can hardly teach anyone medicines and remedies; I'm not seasoned enough for it."

"Your hands seem fine."

Ellis laughed ruefully as he raised his hand. Sebastian watched it tremble in a quick, steady rhythm. "No good for vital surgery. What good is a doctor who cannot steady his hands?"

Understanding reached Sebastian, but he was far from convinced. He kenw it was one of many reasons, though. "Thank you or your time. So, shall I continue to address you as William, then?"

"Yes, please. I'd rather keep my name hidden."

"I'll respect your choice." Sebastian gestured Ellis to the door. "I wish to understand more, but given the nature of everyone's knowledge back in that town, I doubt I'll come up with anything." Sebastian pursed his lips as he considered Ellis one last time. "Let yourself out. I'll still need to arrange what to tell Our Majesty."

"Did he ask specifically for this, then?"

"No, but he wouldn't say no to it." Sebastian's smile was fond, hiding a harmless little secret. Ellis found it just a wee bit disquieting. "Take your leave. Thank you for your time, William."

Ellis bowed a curtsey and left the room. Sebastian watched him leave, brushing his notes and reports to one side of the desk so as to make room for his journal. He swore as he jotted down a few personal notes, planning his next move.

Sebastian worried over the news in the midst of his work; not enough to impede him, mind you, but it never left the forefront of his mind. The circumstances intrigued him, and Ellis's composure was difficult to decipher. He'd have to look into this more carefully, perhaps use a different scout, as well. But news was it that the townspeople from Swordsworth were wary of the outsiders, or anyone who asked about the doctor, at any rate. He may even have to visit the territory himself just to verify information. A man could have many tells on his face, after all.

Sebastian was compiling some of the records from this morning's council when one of the more elderly knights approached him. Ser Malcolm Hawthorne was one of the most-prized swordsmen of the King's inner circle, having godfathered the new King and being a sworn brother to the old one. "No one could tell, but you were a bit distracted earlier, Seneschal."

"Sebastian, please, Ser Hawthorne. And yes, there's a small predicament that needs my attention."

"And what would that be?"

"A need-to-know basis," Sebastian urged. "I'm sorry, but I know little myself, and I may have to investigate this personally, if all else fails."

"I see you take much after your father."

"A Spy Master had less troubles than this, I assure you," he shot back ruefully. "No, this isn't official business of the castle, but something the king and I have both taken interest in."

"Have you spoken with him yet?"

"I'd rather discuss this when I have results."

Malcolm nodded sagely, understanding his concerns, as vague as they were. "You'll do well."

"Thank you." The words came out more bitter than intended. Sebastian almost flinched from them, himself.

"No need for that. I know you, child. We'll be worried if it is enough to set you in a panic. So far, you just look irritated. Or frustrated."

"That easy to read now, am I?"

"It becomes easy after a decade or two of watching over you both."

"Typical," Sebastian huffed. "Are you quite done here? You have recruits to train, if I recall."

"Of course." Malcolm left with a flourish. Sebastian cursed under his breath; the man had a weird way of predicting him, getting under his skin. But right now, he had to make plans, make decisions. It wasn't normal for him to spend so much on uncovering one man's apst, but something about this all nagged at his intuition. It irked and worried and festered from a distance. He couldn't be sure yet but for some reason, he knew his king would involve himself fully into this.

Ellis walked across the courtyard to help with the gardens when he heard the distinct clash of steel against steel. He turned his head to where squires and knight apprentices were training. From what he could tell, they were mere basic exercises for parrying and blocking. His thoughts vaguely wandered back to that fateful night, but he turned away and steadied his breath. His heart already pounded under his chest, and he hurried to leave when he collided with something. The feel of metal against his skin should have been familiar enough, but it was too familiar, and a vivid starry night tainted red with the blood of his child flashed before his eyes before warm leather gripped his wrist. It went as fast as it came, and a shadow of a hooded man was dispersed by the image of an older man, undoubtedly a seasoned veteran if his armor was anything to go by.

"Ah, my apologies, Ser."

"No trouble at all," the man assured him warmly. "You must be in quite a hurry. Where are you off to?"

Ellis held his head high, steadying himself once more. "I have duties at the garden. Forgive me, I'm being expected. Excuse me." He slowed his gait but it still felt rushed, and he left the courtyard without another look back.

Unbeknownst to him, the man's gaze followed him, right up till he passed the doors. "Ser Hawthorne," one of the new squires called after him. "Are you training us today?"

Malcolm turned to the blond recruit. "Of course, Ramza. Now, get everyone in position, would you? We all have much to discuss."