Once inside the manor house, they came intothe hands of the household usher, Master Gallard. Today theusher’s main task was to oversee the sorting of everyone into theirproper places along the outer sides of the long trestle tables setfacing each other in a double row the length of the great hall,from the high table on the dais at the hall's upper end to thescreens passage at its foot. Among the matters Aunt Matildahad fretted over yesterday had been the question of whether therewould be enough room for everyone; but the time of year, and theweather, had held back the number who came. There was roomenough, though barely.
The principal problem – and one Frevisse wasglad fell onto the usher Master Gallard and nowhere near her – wasof precedence. The family and those guests of very highestestate would sit at the high table. The tables down the hallwould seat the guests of lesser rank. Chaucer had countedamong his friends and acquaintances folk from as high as dukes andbishops to as low as wool merchants and even craftsmen. To seat them in precedence, giving offense to none, was a delicateart and a diplomatic balancing act. Master Gallard, fussingand over-busy as he always seemed to be when facing far less tryingtasks, managed with surprising skill. For this occasion ofrigorous importance, his fussing had smoothed over into competenthaste. And haste was very necessary in directing servants toguide guests to their places all around the tables before therecould be impatience or open complaint. He had committedeveryone's face and place to memory. There was no order totheir coming, but as they reached him at the door into the hall, hedirected the servants where to lead them with a gesture andbriefest word. In remarkably short while, the guests wereseated along the outside of the tables, and the servers werebringing out the first course of the elaborate meal.
Frevisse, as a member of the family, hadplace at the high table; but because she was not of Chaucer'sactual blood, she was at its far right end, well away from theconcentration of lordliness at its center, where Bishop Beaufort,as a prince of the church and great-uncle to the king as well asChaucer's cousin, held pride of place next to Aunt Matilda, withAlice on her other side. Not even the duke of Norfolk, sentas the king's representative with the royal condolences, hadprecedence over Bishop Beaufort; and Alice's husband, as earl ofSuffolk, was further aside, beyond the bishop of Lincoln.
The high table was nearly the width of thehall itself, and crowded full with others almost as impressive asthose at its center; but Frevisse, overly warm in the church, thenchilled during the windy walk back to the manor house, and nowgrowing too warm again in the crowded hall, was more concerned thatshe might have a headache coming than with conversing with any ofthem. She was not used to headaches and was not sure if herhead's ache were going to increase into something sickening or easeas she grew used to the crowding and noise – even at a funeralfeast, the talk rose loudly with the need to be heard over thevoices of so many others equally talking. But since she wasat the table's end there was no one to her right and the abbot onher left was far too busy talking toward the more important centerof the table to pay more than passing heed to her. Exceptthey shared serving dishes and a goblet between them, he wouldprobably not have acknowledged her presence at all.
To her wry amusement, Frevisse found herselfcaught between annoyance at being ignored and relief that she didnot have to bother with conversation more complex than, “Yes, thankyou, I'll have a little of that.” She ate meagerly, butmostly her attention wandered to the guests at the long tablesbelow her among the bustle of servers. She saw Dame Perpetua,well down the other side of the hall, seated with another nun andSire Philip and a man who was either bald or another priest, it wasdifficult to tell at this distance.
Somewhat nearer along the tables, Frevisserecognized Sir Clement Sharpe with Lady Anne and his nephew Guy oneither side of him. Keeping them apart still, Frevissethought, and wondered how much good it would do him in the end.
Leaning over Sir Clement's shoulder to pourwine into the goblet he shared with Lady Anne, was Jevan Dey. Seen together with his uncle, their resemblance was marked. But where Sir Clement's face was active, open and intent, Jevan'swas shut, without even the small animation he had had when talkingto her with Robert Fenner. Sir Clement had much to answer forthere.
Because of the excess of people, a great manyof the guests were being served by their own servants or, if theirestate was sufficient, their own squires. There was an almostconstant flow of food from the kitchen, entering from the screenspassage and spreading out along the inner side of the U-shape thetables made. The platters and bowls of everything from wheathulled and boiled with fruit to capons stuffed with oysters werearranged on platters to serve people by fours, except at the hightable, where in token of their place only two shared the serveddishes. That meant Frevisse received some attention from theabbot beside her, as he displayed his manners by settingparticularly choice bits on her plate before taking his ownportion. Still unsure of her head and of how her stomachmight respond to so much rich food, Frevisse ate only what she feltshe absolutely must – a chicken wing, a modicum of dried fruitseethed in wine – until the oyster stuffing; she forgot herselfwith that and ate as much as might be. She could not rememberwhen last she had had oysters.
The next course was pies full of beef andcurrants, their juices dark with spices and orange peel. Eachwas surrounded by baked eggs, and Frevisse, her appetite rousednow, cracked one and ate it. That left her mouth dry and shedrank deeply from the goblet she shared with the abbot, wiping herlips first so that no grease might sheen the wine, wiping the rimafterwards where her lips had touched. As she set the gobletdown, the abbot took it up and drank deeply enough to empty it,without bothering to wipe lip or rim; apparently thirst was morethan manners with him. Frevisse averted her eyes from hislapse and refrained from comment as she let him place a share ofthe pie on her plate.
While she ate, her gaze moved absently aroundthe hall. She caught glimpse of Robert Fenner serving alittle ways down the table in front of her, but did not see SirWalter. Dame Perpetua was speaking with Sire Philip, theirheads close together to be heard. Sir Clement, she saw, wasshifting a fist-full of bones from his plate to the voiding platterin front of him that showed he had taken the greater share of thechicken that should have been split equally among him, Lady Anne,Guy, and the man beyond him. So he was greedy as well ascontentious. How many other sins did he so fully indulge in?Frevisse wondered. She watched with amusement as Lady Annedrew him into conversation over the goblet they shared while Guydrew the large custard Jevan had just set before them towardhimself and gave large portions to himself and the man besidehim.
Then someone moved directly in front of her,blocking her view but bearing a welcome pitcher of wine. Frevisse glanced up in gratitude – she was thirsty again – thensaid with outright pleasure at a familiar and friendly face,“Robert! What are you doing?”
“Waiting on you, my lady, and anyone elsebetween the whiles Sir Walter needs me. He's down the tablesfrom you only a little way, in heavy talk with an archdeacon overthe cost of masses for the dead. Look – no, you can't see himfor the fat justice of common pleas in the way, and he can't seeyou-”
“Which should help both our digestions,”Frevisse put in.
“True,” Robert agreed. He set thegoblet back on the table, filled to a neat margin from the rim and,still leaning forward, asked too low for anyone else to hear in thegeneral loudness of the hall, “How is it with the LadyThomasine?”
“She's Sister Thomasine these three years,”Frevisse said gently. “And it's very well with her. She's happy.”