Zachariah ran into the chilly stone dormitory, pushed the heavy wooden door closed behind him, and locked it with the big iron key. He slumped against the door, breathing hard. The rotund Latin master hadn’t caught him, but he’d pay later.
Since his father sent him to the monastery school three months ago, he had learned three things.
First, monks had no sense of humor.
Second, heating an inflated pig’s bladder in the fireplace will cause it to explode.
Third—which surprised Zachariah as much as anyone—the explosion will send burning coals flying and set a broom on fire.