Page 19 - SagaOfBarak1

‘Ah good, that’s much better,’ the giant muttered to himself as the long dried
out logs took alight instantly. After this task the ogre next moved with some haste
along the long banquet table helping himself to such food that was neither stale
nor sour. Cheese, bread, boarsmeat and chicken, the great slayer eagerly
devoured. Next after consuming this fare the ogre washed it down with a big
goblet of good strong mead. Barak being a huge man also had a huge appetite so
despite just dining at the Seven Stars the ogre could always find room for a little
more food in his ever hungry belly.
Some half dozen of Aulric’s best and most favourite hunting dogs lounged
ever sleepy about the great hall. These noble beasts were tall, rangy lean broken
coated animals of mixed collie and greyhound blood; hardy animals that could
run down a stag or a hare when required. Alas though these were lazy docile
beasts at rest, it would be fair to say these fleet running dogs only came to life
upon the day of a hunt. At all other times these long lanky dogs were more than
content just to lounge around for days on end scrounging food, then sleeping on
again before the hearth of the blazing fire. And please believe this, the dogs had
indeed lounged, lounged then slept and once awake the dogs had also fed well
from the long table. However, sadly the beasts were unable to take themselves
out of the great hall for these past days; this through no fault of their own. Well
the big running dogs had, because of their confinement, made quite a considerable
mess of things. Barak after but a moment gruffly summoned a most nervous
guardsman. The slayer bade him send servants at once to clean up the dogs stink
then wash and scrub the floor down. Also, after this most urgent task was
completed, the kitchen staff were to be roused from their beds and bring with
them fresh meat to the hall. Oh, oh aye and of course, more much needed drink.
Once this was done the guardsmen were next ordered to walk the dogs out into
the woods for a run, oh and of course to do what they must. As ever and always
with the giant Barak organization was the key to all and everything. Aye, without
any sort of organization then of course all and everything was lost and in utter
hopeless confusion.
After all, well these Britons were a simple folk, aye here were folk that needed
much guidance Barak had long thought. Oh yes, these rustics were not quick
thinking things at all. Honest enough that was all very true, their cooking and
brewing skills were not of a high standard. Aye these Britons were not anywhere
near as adept as the Germans when it came to making beer or sausages. So for
that reason it was mead the giant demanded to be brought for him to help his
thirst, not the wishy washy ale the locals drank. For that indeed was a sad pathetic
brew that in the ogre’s expert opinion could not even get a decent dog drunk.
Now though, the monks from the small island of Lindisfarne to the north east of
the wall, well, these saintly scholars knew only too well how to make a good full
bodied drink. Aye, big Barak could well stomach that holy lovingly brewed
refreshment. Mead and strong cider, yes that at least had some sort of bite to it.
Aye, and this even more so when mixed together in the same drinking pot, this

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