background, knight, and falcon separate images from Pinterest. Sources unknown. All images altered. Herald design is my own creation. *

Pictured above is how I imagined the over-indulged and under-worked Royal Guard, cocky and self-assured as they pose prettily to impress the ladies.

***

Gwyndolyn was rarely busy from sun up to sun down the way she had been in the kitchens. Still, there was much to be done when she was not with a patient. She did her own wash and cooked her own meals. She had to tend her garden, gather the herbs and plants she needed, and of course mix and grind all the potions, salves, and powders that she needed.

But she did not think of it as work, for she enjoyed helping others. Since those first days, she was pleased with how much of Mother's teaching came so readily to her mind. As for the servant girl, little Sofi was a pleasure to have about with her disposition to be happy and helpful.

Sofi and Robin got along well and mostly the two of them were great little helpers. But they were only children and with the growing excitement over the coming of the soldiers, they managed little of their work so she sent them off to play while she did the washing.

"Oh, to be so young again." she murmured with a smile, she hung the last of the bandages to dry.

While the wash dried, she decided to tidy the shelves and take inventory of what she might need to fill soon. Just as she began to grind up some more ginger-root a smile tugged at her lips.

...Robin called it her tummy ache tea.

As if summoned by her thoughts, the boy burst through the door, with Sofi trailing behind.

"Robin." She frowned as her hands stilled. "I have told you before, do not run on the stone steps, especially when the weather is wet."

"Yes, mum." He shuffled his feet meekly, properly chastised for but a moment before he remembered why he had come. "But is here! I saw him! He was taken to the special room next to his lordship and he is going to dine at his lordship's right hand on the dais! Do you not wish to see if he remembers us?"

She sighed. She doubted he would remember them, but she knew for certain that she would never forget him...or that crooked smile that lit his eyes and lifted his whiskers just so.

"I am sure that the honored knight has much better things to do than to remember a farm girl he met once upon a time."

"But—" Robin pouted, "But he you!"

"Indeed. But think of how many more he has saved to be called the Champion of the People."

Robin scuffed his feet, disappointment clear on his face.

"Now then, shall you go find someone to play with or do I need to find a chore to occupy your idle hands?"

"Play!" Robin laughed as he bolted out the door, Sofi following behind.

Turning back to her gingerroot, she smiled. Sofi was orphaned three winters past and had no other kin. Sofi said she slept on a pallet in the kitchen since her parents died. More than likely, Gwyndolyn suspected that she was well and stuck with the girl. Laughter suddenly bubbled up and she said to no one: "I am a virgin mother twice again!"

"Even the Holy Mother only managed that once." Masculine laughter rumbled behind her.

Startled she dropped the mortar and shrieked as she spun around.

"I did not mean to frighten you. The boy and the girl said you could help. Your children I presume?"

"The boy is my son, yes. The girl is...well, I guess she is mine now, as she has no other kin." Gwyndolyn wiped her hands on her apron to cover the little tremor that yet shook her limbs. She was so involved in her work and her thoughts his sudden appearance had truly frightened her. She swallowed and was glad her voice was clear and even. "How may I help you?"

The man was clearly one of the knights, and she knew by his surcoat that he was not of Brecken. His color was that of the Royal Guard, a sanguine field bearing a falcon of sable and or. He stopped suddenly, staring at her and blinking as though he were seeing her for the first time...or perhaps as though he were seeing an apparition. He swallowed and offered a wobbly smile.

"Pleased I am to look upon you again, milady." Gwyndolyn frowned in confusion at his words. "Do you not remember me, milady? From the well at your father's farm? Surely there cannot be two such lovely ladies in this part of the realm?"

She tipped her head as she studied his face...

"You do not recognize me without my whiskers? I am just come from a bath and the servant who helped me said that there was a healer behind the kitchens. I ran into the children outside...or rather they ran into me..." he chuckled as she blushed. "Worry not. You have raised up a young man of good manners. He gave me a most elegant and courtly bow as he offered me his most sincere apologies."

"He did?" she could not hide the surprise in her voice.

The man nodded. She thought him familiar, and in truth, she remembered the night at the well, but more so the kindness than any particular face, as it was very dark...and she could not recall a name at all to put with such a face as the one that stood expectantly before her.

"Please." He laughed easily, "Trouble yourself no more! I am Sir Gil. Sir Dermot and I...Am I truly so altered?" He frowned.

"Sir Gil!" Recognition came at once and she stepped forward to place a hand on his arm as she offered her apology. "I remember that you are newly in the Royal Guard, and that you served closely with Lord Erec. I well remember the kindness you rendered me, Sir Gil, but I did not remember you. That is to say, I could not recall your name. Please, I do beg your pardon!"

"Be not troubled. Neither do I recall your name, my lady."

She remembered her manners and curtsied. "My name is Gwyndolyn, my lord."

He laughed.

"I am no lord, only a landless knight. Otherwise, you remembered me correctly."

"If it pleases you, Sir Gil, I would like it very much if you would use my name, as I consider us to be friends after what transpired betwixt us." He offered a warm smile and a nod in acknowledgement. "Why is it that you have sought out the healer?"

"First let me say, my good lady Gwyndolyn, that I am greatly relieved to discover that you are alive and well. I feared that upon our return we would find your father's farm a pile of ash, but that is a tale for another day. But you asked of me: What need have I for a healer?"

She nodded.

"It has been many a long cold night that we have been away from this place. And my shirt sleeve was torn so that it did not stay to protect my skin from my armor. The coldness of the metal and the wetness of the snow and ice and rain...Well, it will be much easier to show you."

She gestured to a chair and he solicited her help to remove the surcoat and chainmail. Then he lifted his sleeve to reveal a large raw patch of skin around the back of his wrist. It looked like a burn, and it looked painful.

"Is this your sword arm?" she asked, as she turned to fetch a bowl of water and a clean cloth.

"Yes, my lady. That is why it pains me so. If it were my other arm, I could rest it more, but alas, a soldier at war cannot rest his sword arm for many minutes together without suffering something more hazardous to his health than sores upon his skin."

"I can understand that. Surely it must have been difficult. But you are blessed. Infection has not set in."

"I cleaned it each night with whisky and wrapped it with a bit of cloth I cut from one of my undershirts. I had the squires wash the cloths each night, so I always had a clean one to use."

"That was wise of you. Had you not done so, and if infection had set in, it may have progressed to the point you may have lost some of the use of your hand...or your hand for that matter, if it had become blackened."

"I knew as much. I have seen it many a time over the years, which is why I was so careful of it. But it does pain me greatly, especially toward the eve, when I have had the weight of the chainmail rubbing upon it for the whole of the daylight."

"I shall clean it with some witch hazel. I am afraid it will be quite painful, but it will pass quickly. Then I will wrap it in bandages treated with honey and almond butter. The latter is not something I often have access too, but his lordship obtained them along with some other spices recently and I begged some from Matilde for the treatment of burns such as yours."

"But it is not a burn."

"In a way it is. The rubbing of the armor chaffed the skin much the same as a mild burn. The honey will aid with the swelling and will help to keep the infection away. And the almond butter will lend aid to the healing." She spread the honey and almond mixture on a bandage, the way one butters toast and laid it gently upon his wound.

"That feels...nice." He sighed. "It feels...better."

"I am glad." She smiled as she loosely wrapped a strip around and around to hold the bandage in place and tied it off before helping him back into his chainmail and surcoat. "You must keep this dry and it must be changed thrice a day."

"Then I shall refrain from swimming in the loch, and I visit the healer thrice a day."

"If you do not," she crossed her arms and frowned at him the way she did when she was scolding Robin, "I shall have to take a switch to you."

He laughed, and she joined him as she followed him to the door. She stood in the doorway while he went down the steps.

"Will I see you in the great hall?" he turned at the bottom and looked back up at her.

"I fear not. With so much over-indulgence, there will be much need of me here."

"Belly aches and hang-overs."

"And bruised knuckles, blackened eyes, and split lips. Mayhap a broken bone or two from tumbling down the stairs. Matilde has given me fair warning that I shall not sleep for many minutes together whilst the festivities continue."

"I am sorry for it. Everyone will be there, so I am told. Mayhap you can come for a short while. But if you cannot, I shall tell you all that transpires betwixt each of my visits."

"I thank you." She smiled as he gave her a final bow, rather a dip of his chin, and then he was gone.

"I know not what to make of that." She mumbled as she returned to her table and her grinding. There was yet much work to do.

---

Erec yawned and stretched as he watched the servants go quietly, closing the door behind them. The large bed looked soft, warm, and very inviting. Climbing under the soft furs would be too warm, fully dressed as he was, but there was no rule that said he could not nap atop the furs.

With a sigh, he sank into the pillows and as was the way of a soldier, fell quickly into a light but refreshing sleep. It seemed as though he had only just closed his eyes when a soft knock sounded upon the door awaking him at once.

"Enter."

"Milord, you asked to be awakened at the turning the hourglass. I have been sent to see it done, and to assist you with your armor. His Lordship the Baron has gone down to the great hall and awaits your presence to begin the festivities."

"Let us be quick about it then." Erec gestured to the basket the squire carried. "I see you have already spoken to my lieutenant about my armor."

"Aye, milord. He stopped me as I was on my way to fetch help to bring your armor. He said to bring only pauldron, half plate, vambrace, long surcoat and cloak."

"Aye. I would forgo all of it, were it my preference, and wear only short surcoat and chainmail but out of respect for his lordship, I shall wear it."

With a quick nod, the squire set down his basket and went to work. Moving with practiced skill, the squire had Erec presentable very short order after which, Erec followed the squire to the Great Hall.

"Milord?" The squire called over his shoulder as they went. "If you do not mind my asking it of you, why is it you wear so little?"

"Comfort." Was Erec's answer, but he knew the boy wanted more so he added. "There is no need for the protection of full armor when dining, but some armor is required in such banquets as this. So I wear this." He pointed to his half plate and Pauldron. Out of doors, I add Sabatons and Greeves since I am often standing in full view."

"Full armor is very heavy." The squire said over his shoulder.

"Aye, and expensive too, both to create and to repair. That is why I choose to wear full armor and short surcoat only for joust or battle."

"What you say makes sense, Milord." The boy said as they neared the Great Hall.

It was just as well they were finished with their conversation, for the din of the crowd was like that of a rushing stream, drowning out normal voices and washing away soft words. Erec's eyes went to the dais and caught upon Lord Brecken.

"Erec! Here, my boy!" The baron shouted as he stood and gestured to the chair on his right. "Come! Come!"

Erec smiled at the baron's eagerness as he nimbly climbed the three steps to the dais. No sooner had he stepped toward the indicated chair, than the Barron took him into a boisterous embrace and thumped upon his back. As Erec pulled away, he was surprised to be bussed upon the cheek before the baron pulled back and gestured once more to the chair on his right.

"Sit! Sit!"

Erec obeyed and the baron grinned proudly. Erec blinked, unsure. Had the baron actually winked at him before turning to face the men assembled? Not all were present yet, but a large number of men and women had already gathered in anticipation of this night's celebration.

The baron nodded at someone in the corner and a short horn blast preceded the shout: "Hear Ye, Hear Ye."