"Milord."

Erec relegated the soft voice to dream. Women did not join them when they left the garrison.

"Milord."

Once more the soft voice called to him and he smiled until he suddenly became aware of the warmth of someone leaning close.

Quick as a serpent his hand struck out. He was shocked when his hand met with soft flesh instead of an enemy intent on cutting his throat. He was wide awake and sat up to see a woman land hard on her sit-upon.

Shock registered with an "oof" through the sweetest lips rounded into a perfect O. Surprise blinked at him through large brown eyes. Chagrin wore the most becoming blush...

Erec remembered himself and scrambled to his feet, feeling the sting of his mortification. The lass sat, yet dazed by his blow...unless

"My most sincere apologies, Milady." He groveled offering a hand, "Are you much injured?"

"Only my pride, milord." She murmured as he easily lifted her to her feet. She felt her blush deepen as she recalled this was the second time in as many days as she needed help getting to her feet. Smoothing her skirts, she added. "But you need not be so formal, milord. I am but a farmer's daughter. And a poor farmer at that."

"Poor?" Erec was disappointed, but not overly surprised. It was a recurring theme in the land since the new King began his reign. "The buildings are still in relatively good repair, although the fields are showing some neglect. I would hazard to say that the farm was prosperous until recently?"

"Soldiers swept through the area in the early spring. All of the men, including my brothers, were taken. Except for our little Robin. He was too young."

"And your father's injury?"

"That happened two days before the soldiers came or they might have taken him too."

"So, there is no one left to harvest the fields and plow the fields under for the winter. They will go fallow?"

"Just so. The soldiers took all of our grain and the winter feed and sent it away in wagons along with all of our livestock. All save for our little lame mule and the old cow that was too thin to butcher. At least the soldiers were in too much of a hurry to chase a few of chickens that got away. Robin and I were able to round them up and eventually they started laying again."

"I noticed the mule, but I did not notice that he was lame."

"Jacques is a strong little one, even with his bad leg. He was not enough for the soldiers, but little Jacques helps me with moving wood and he is able to pull the small plow for a short while. It takes us much longer, and we cannot work the entirety of our fields but thanks to little Jacques, we will not starve."

"Can your brother and father not hunt in the wood off yonder?"

"There will be nothing left to hunt. The soldiers took buck and boar when they went through. And your own men took nut, berry, fish and fowl."

"I will see that food enough is left for your family in gratitude for your hospitality."

"Our hospitality is no great offering, milord. It was an earthen floor before the hearth with some Meade and bread for dinner."

"Our animals were watered and rested. You gave us eggs served with a smile for our breakfast. I would dare claim your hospitality greater still, in that it was given willingly and cheerfully. Even after your ill-treatment by those other soldiers, by my own men last eve...and this day, by my own hand!"

"But milord, you are not to be blamed for the actions of others. And my injury just now falls upon my own head for it was I who crouched over a sleeping knight—a knight that was guarding my family from further harm."

"You make me sound a saint." Erec chuckled. "I am a mortal man, subject to the same temptations as any other, save men of the Church, of course."

"Are you saying that fleshy desires are the reason that you chose the army over the church?" The girl's eyes grew round and she clamped a hand over her mouth.

"As pleasing as your blush may be, I do beg your pardon, milady. I should never have made such a reference in your presence."

Erec watched her with interest. She was not a child as he first guessed from her small stature, but neither was she in the first bloom of youth. Her blush was that of a maiden even if some of her remarks were not so maidenish. She was also, as her father said, a bonnie lass.

In his years of service to the king, Erec had been privileged to observe every side of human nature. From the fine living among the royals, to the rough living in a war camp. He studied among the gentled nuns, lived in a noble house, and slept in the shared quarters of the garrison. He thought there remained nothing left to surprise him. He was mistaken.

Understanding his silence to equal his displeasure, she blushed and started to rise.

His hand went out, arresting her retreat, "You seem ...happy?"

"But I am happy, milord." She frowned at the sudden change of subject and settled back into her place beside him. "I am well, am I not? I have a home, and food to eat. I have work to fill my days with purpose. And I have the love of my father and my brother." She said as her eyes searched his face. "Are those not reason enough for my happiness?"

There were precious few moments that Erec recalled when he felt such mirth as she; with shining eyes where laughter seemed ever imminent.

Erec was Captain of the King's Army. He had a formidable reputation, a modest fortune, and recently he acquired Bocland and the title and wealth that went with it. But none of it was something he felt happy in having.

"I have learned that life is uncertain and we can only hope to be content in what it brings us. And then there is you." He shook his head, "You surprise me that even amidst hardship, you can find cause for joy."

"You have seen much of war and of death." She frowned a moment, as if pondering what that meant before her countenance brightened as she announced: "Should it not be a cause for joy that you are yet alive after long years of war? Or that you excel as a knight of the realm. Me thinks there be few souls able to make such boasts in truth."

"I have a measure of joy, but it is tempered."

"Mayhap..." she paused, and he knew she was deciding if she could speak plainly.

"Speak, milady. I shall non pass judgment. In truth, I would welcome candor."

"As you say, let it be so. You spend too much time with only soldiers for companions. You need to live more, among the people. Behold a mother doting upon a small child or witness the pride of a father training up his son. Observe a child marveling at the antics of a barn kitten or spy upon the affection between young lovers. There is much to bring joy, milord."

"I see beauty." He offered by way of redemption for his gloom.

"The damsels fair?" she teased.

"A sunrise over the loch." He answered wistfully. "A sunset over the mountain. A field of wheat glistening in the afternoon sun. A thousand hues of the heather coloring a meadow, the glittering tapestry of dew on a crisp spring morning..."

"And is there also beauty in a great victory, is there not?"

"No. Victory means battle. And battle means death. I see no beauty in death."

"I meant the spoils, not the costs."

"Aye. I know what you meant but I do not count spoils without first subtracting the costs."

"And surely your tally book has shown a great surplus over the years."

"Over the years?" His brow shot up, "Just how many years do you think I have?"

The lady had the good grace to blush and Erec found himself once more wanting to smile. But the seriousness of his own situation reinserted itself and he frowned instead.

"I meant not to anger you, milord." She said meekly as her gaze dropped to her hands nervously grasping at her skirts.

"My apologies, milady. Your words do not anger me. On the contrary, I am quite amused." His smile was sincere, and it touched every part of his face earning him a shy smile in return. "It has been quite some time since I have found myself similarly amused.

"But alas, I must leave your father's house and his fine hospitality. I have a battle to fight and the King has commanded that we win." His lips turned down and the light faded from his eyes at the return of such foreboding thoughts.

"I cannot see your face well, for all the whiskers, milord, but I can tell that you find something about that last to be troublesome." She began, "Do you not think that you shall prevail? Do you fear..." her voice stilled and she lifted a hand from her lap as if reaching for him.

And then, as if she thought better of it, she pulled her hand back to her lap and cleared her throat before finishing, "Do you think...that is, do you fear that you will not return this time?"

"I have my doubts." He admitted, "but not for the reasons you may suppose. The battle is to the far north and we are on the edge of the winter. In fact, the winter cold has already settled quite comfortably upon the place to which we go. When we get there the battle will not be an easy one as we will be..." He trailed off, trying to think of the best way to explain.

"You must fight two-fold." She interrupted the silence and he saw the realization as she puzzled it out. "You will battle the enemy and the elements. And your enemy will not be so badly affected, for they will not only be accustomed to the great cold, but prepared for it with warm clothing."

She shivered and he had to marvel at her quick mind. It was not something non-soldiers gave a second thought to...

"I have endured the great cold before. While I am not anxious to repeat the experience, my lieutenants and I shall be fine."

"Then it is the enemy you fear. Are they a superior force?"

"Only in number, but we will meet them after a long march. They have been terrorizing the country round about their borders for the whole of the time since the spring frost. What I find worrisome is that they have been growing their natural numbers and I know not by how many."

"Soldiers of fortune you mean?"

"How would a farmer's daughter have knowledge of such men? Surely you have not been troubled by them here? So far from the borders and surrounded by the king's allies?"

"Here? Nay. Not I, milord. T'was my mother."

"I sense there is a tale in the telling."

"If you would be pleased not to interrupt, I shall tell it, and gladly."

"My apologies, milady." Erec chuckled and gave a mock bow with his chin, "If you would but continue."

"My mother was an orphan, from a respectable family with noble ties. She mourned her parents greatly. She was rather young when they passed, you see. She had not yet passed her tenth year. Rather than be burdened with her care and blossoming beauty, the new mistress of the castle, my mother's own cousin no less, sent my mother away to the Abby to...

"Well, I suppose the official reason was so that she might be educated and be refined while she learned to cope with her loss. The sisters might also help her to draw closer to the Lord, so that she might draw comfort from her faith and with enough time, her broken heart would heal."

"I am sorry."

"Do not be sorry. My mother oft said it was the best thing that her cousin ever did for her. Her education surpassed what it might have been otherwise, with lessons in reading, writing, Latin, theology, and comportment. She also learned many practical things. During the winters, she learned to turn wool into string and how to weave the string into cloth and tapestries.

"In springtime she learned gardening. And when it was discovered that mother had an aptitude for it, she was shown the many uses for plants in salves, teas, powders, and other medicinal uses. My mother was an exceptional healer. But most importantly, milord, she met my father there."

"In a convent? Sooth you will not say that your father was once a soldier of fortune!"

"Nay. My father has ever been a farmer, as was his father before him and his father before him."

"How did—" Realizing she was teasing him, and reminding him of his promise of silence he sighed. "Please, continue milady. You have my full attention."

"My mother lived at the Abby quite happily for ten years. Other young noble ladies came to be educated during that time and mother told me many stories. But for this story, you need to know that it was in the last two years of my mother's stay that war broke between Lord Modoc and Lord Brecken.

"Soldiers oft sought shelter at the Abby, and care for their wounded. My mother was not a member of the sisterhood, so she was kept hidden away from the soldiers. For her protection, of course."

"Of course." He mumbled, not wanting to interrupt.

"Lord Modoc did not like that the Abby also gave refuge to Lord Brecken. Lord Modoc believed that Brecken would be easily defeated if he lacked such a refuge. Lord Modoc sent letters with threats and demanded that the Abby give no further refuge to Brecken.

"The Reverend Mother answered that the Abby had always been and evermore shall be, a place of refuge and hope, open to all who entered. Again, and again, they refused Lord Modoc's demands."

Gwyndolyn stopped her story for a moment and rose to fetch some water. While she poured out two cups full, he decided it was safe to interject a thought.

"They believed his threat was empty. His men were Christians and Christians would not attack the Abby."

"You are quite correct." She said as she handed him one of the cups and resumed her seat, and the story. "But Lord Modoc was determined. He sent for heathens; men who did not scruple to attack the Abby or the defenseless women residing in it. The heathens arrived at End 'aven and travelled south where they were joined by Lord Garrett's men before reaching Lord Modoc."