The Imperial Ox! I’ve always wanted to cook it.

The trick is that with all that offal you don’t need salt in the stuffing.

Steward Huh. Things being what they are you’re going to be out of a job.

First Cook Yeah, I wonder what they’re all eating out there, these days.

S’pose I can go and cook for the Saxons. Human brains. Tricky, brain dishes.

Steward Where did you hear the Saxons are cannibals?

First Cook Aren’t they?

Steward They’re dirt farmers. Just like us.

First Cook Be better to kill her. Kinder.

You know we’re going to have to.

Steward I am her lover.

First Cook Oh?

A silence.

Nice work?

Stewards Lords, ladies, masters, workers in the fields – cooks – what do you all want of me?

I breathe my first breath. Look up. I am the son of a tin miner. A godforsaken trade on this good, sweet earth.

But as the priests say – ‘The world, cold thing, is a sermon.’

I get education from the priests. I get out of the Cornish mines by selling myself as a bondsman.

I please a master by doing a murder. I am released from my bondsmanship.

I learn. Gain dignity. I become, in early middle-life, a steward to a great estate.

I carry the estate in my head, in my dreams. Seed-times. Debts. Tallies. Who’s sick, who’s stupid, who can be relied on.

Like a huge riddle that only I can answer.

And when the mistress of the estate, of the riddle, wants me in her bed, do I go?

Do I. Like a rat down a hole.

Cook, you run off, I will find you. When the raids have stopped. And I am back in my lady’s bed. I will manacle you to a wall and, with great pleasure, drive a nail through your tongue.

First Cook Yeah. Well. We’ll see.

Steward You will.

The Second Cook finds the dead Saxon.

Second Cook Oh no. I’m standing here looking at a corpse. And I think it’s Saxon.

The Steward and the First Cook look at each other.

And I’m going to be sick.

First Cook He’s going to be sick.

Seward You two are the lowest of the low.

First Cook Dunno. When you come down to it, I’m meat and he’s vegetables.

The Second Cook is sick.

Steward Oh dear oh dear.

The Steward walks over to the Saxon.

Adona Steward, what are you doing? Steward!

John!

Second Cook Bad habit for a cook, throwing up all the time. And I think I’m going to see one or two corpses in the days ahead.

Adona John. I’m hurting.

Steward They’ve gone further North than we thought.

He kicks the Saxon and turns away.

We’ll leave, now.

Second Cook How about threshing this lot –

Steward Too dangerous.

Adona You’re going to kill me and leave me in a ditch. I’m getting up!

Steward No, My Lady –

He runs to her.

Adona You won’t whip them? I will!