May 28

On this day, Sir Geoffrey Brattleby, known as the 'White Wolf of the Fens,' intercepted a royal convoy bound for Lincoln. Claiming a debt of blood owed by the Crown for the loss of his archers at Sluys, Geoffrey held the King’s commissioners at the crossroads. He did not spill a drop of blood but instead required each official to dine upon coarse rye bread and small beer while his men counted the gold florins. The tension was thick enough to be cut by a broadsword, as the royal agents feared the gallows while Geoffrey simply toasted to the health of the realm.

By sunset, the Baron had sequestered three chests of coin, claiming them as 'rightful indemnity' for the local parishes. This act of defiance earned him a brief stay in the Tower of London, but it solidified the Brattleby reputation as the champions of the northern shires. To this day, the Brattleby archives contain a pardoned scroll signed by King Edward III, though it is rumored the Baron never returned a single penny of the seized tax.

In the Great Hall of Brattleby, the hierarchy of the table is a sacred geometry. When serving the pottage or the clarified broth, the youngest page must always approach the ranking guest from the left, ensuring the silver ladle never crosses the line of the guest’s sight. It is a grave breach of etiquette to allow the steam of the vessel to cloud the face of a Lady. One must maintain a distance of three palms’ breadth, steadying the hand to avoid the slightest tremor, for a spill represents not just a stained tunic, but a stain upon the House’s hospitality.

Furthermore, when the Baron rises to offer a toast, all utensils must be laid parallel to the edge of the board, tines facing downward. Silence is not merely expected; it is required. To whisper while a Brattleby speaks is to suggest that the listener's own thoughts are of greater weight than the commands of the suzerain. Mastery of these silences defines the true courtier from the mere guest.

Begin by scaling and gutting the carp, leaving the head intact to signifying the wholeness of the life taken. Create a marinade of verjuice and honey, steeped with a generous pinch of crushed saffron until the liquid glows like the morning sun. The fish must be basted frequently while roasting over a low ember fire, ensuring the skin becomes translucent and golden rather than charred. The aromatics of ginger and cinnamon should be introduced midway through to permeate the flesh without overpowering the delicate river-scent.

While the carp rests, prepare a thick sauce by grinding the blanched almonds into a paste with more verjuice, stirring in the dried currants for a tart sweetness. Pour this over the fish just before serving on a platter of pewter or silver. The finished dish should present a balance of acidity and spice, mirroring the complex humors of the late spring season. It is best enjoyed with a chilled white wine from the southern slopes.