August 28

Upon this day, as the late summer sun cast elongated shadows across the manor’s cobblestones, Sir Geoffrey de Brattleby gathered his retinue of forty archers and twelve men-at-arms. Clad in polished plate that glinted like the Holy Grail, Geoffrey knelt before the High Altar of St. Cuthbert’s. The local priest, Father Waleran, anointed the knight’s brow with oils brought from the crusades, invoking the protection of Saint George. Lady Eleanor, his wife, presented him with a silk favor embroidered with the Brattleby falcon, her face a mask of stoic resolve despite the uncertainty of the crossing to France.

The village stood in silent rows as the troop filed out toward the southern roads. The air was thick with the scent of maturing grain and the heavy dust kicked up by destriers. It was a moment of profound gravity for the barony; the departure of the fighting men left the fields to the women and the elderly. Yet, as the last banner vanished over the ridge of the Lincoln Edge, the bells of the estate chime reached a fever pitch, a sonic armor cast over the departing souls. This departure began the legend of the 'Unharmed Forty,' for every man from Brattleby who marched that day returned for the following year's harvest.

In the event that a guest of noble lineage but diminished fortune arrives at the Brattleby gates, the protocol of the High Table demands a delicate balance of charity and hierarchy. Such a guest must never be seated below the salt, for their blood remains blue despite their threadbare sleeves. Instead, place them on the right hand of the secondary table, ensuring their cutlery is of polished pewter rather than common wood. This maintains the dignity of the house while acknowledging the realities of their station.

Conversation must be steered away from the cost of livery or the price of Flemish wool. A host shows their true breeding by discussing the timeless virtues of the hunt or the intricacies of lineage, areas where the impoverished noble still possesses wealth. By treating the destitute knight as if his coffers were overflowing, the House of Brattleby reinforces the foundational truth that honor is a permanent grace, whereas gold is a fleeting shadow. Failure to observe this is a vulgarity beneath the dignity of the Barony.

Pluck and draw the teal with great care, ensuring the skin remains intact. Rub the birds vigorously with sea salt and the ground grains of paradise, then set them to rest in a cool larder for three hours. In a heavy copper cauldron, simmer the verjuice with the honey and hyssop until the liquid reduces by half and coats a silver spoon like a heavy syrup. This reduction provides the necessary acidity to cut through the richness of the waterfowl.

Roast the birds over a spit of fruitwood until the skin is crisped to a dark amber. Frequently baste the teal with the honeyed verjuice, adding the saffron and currants during the final twenty minutes of cooking. The birds should be served halved on trenchers of day-old bread, which will soak up the aromatic juices. Garnish the platter with fresh sprigs of hyssop to signify the purification of the feast in honor of the Saint’s day.