“Nope, I don’t, but somehow I believe I’ll be making it several times daily from now on.”
She caught the glint of humor and the twitch at the corner of his mouth. “Do you have any children, Sir James?”
“No, the Lord never blessed me with any until you came along. But we are going to have to do something about you calling me Sir James.” He sat tall in his saddle, waiting for her reply if his stance indicated the reason.
She said, “I don’t believe ‘father’ is correct. The Old Mage reserves that name in my mind. For me, Sir James is too official, but James is not respectful for one my age.”
“I believe you’re right on all accounts. Besides, it would be confusing in court to refer to me as your father, and might cause unpleasantness as a few there will believe that I’m raising you to help my status, even that I might wish to become your Regent. How about we settle on Uncle?”
Hannah nodded at once. “I don’t know what a Regent is, but I know what Uncles are.”
“It’s settled, then. I am your Uncle James. That makes you my niece. How would you like to visit that farm down there and introduce ourselves?”
“Not yet, I think. If the farmer is not in his fields that we see, he may be in his barn or outbuilding, and we’ll walk right up to him. He may not be happy about us crossing his farm without permission.”
Sir James said, “In another time you would be correct. This time, we’ll ride in as if expected.”
“If he has friends or wants to fight?” She drew in a deep breath and sighed. “Okay, I guess I see what you mean. He and his helpers are farmers, and you are the King’s Knight. Hopefully, he will not wish to fight.”
He chuckled again, after casting another of the semi-confused looks in her direction. He said, “Are you sure you’re only eleven?”
“No,” she answered simply. “Almost twelve.”
His chuckle turned into laughter as he took the lead. They stayed behind the cover of the trees but kept the farms in sight as they skirted the valley. Both of their heads turned to watch the farms they passed, especially the fourth one in the series.
As they drew abreast of it, Sir Paul said, “I see nothing yet to change my mind. Are you ready to go down there?”
“Dogs. Does he have dogs?”
“I haven’t seen any sign of one, but most farms will have them.”
“I thought all farms have dogs,” she said firmly.
Sir James said, “If there is a dog, what do you think we should do?”
“The dogs at the castle were friendly, for the most part, but they all bark at people they don’t know.”
“I would expect the same here. That’s the dog’s job. Mine will be to get close enough to break one of the blue grapes on the ground where the farmer will inhale it. You might have to help me lure him close to us. But be sure to hold your breath.”
“I’m not a child.”
“You are too,” he said with a chuckle. “Come on. Let me do our talking.”
Her horse followed the lighter colored horse he rode, nose to tail. They didn’t hurry but rode in just the opposite fashion. To an observer, they were riding leisurely and without fear, as if expected. Long before they crossed the farthest field from the small house, a spotted dog sniffed, barked, and raced in their direction. Another, a brown dog that appeared much older scampered along behind, barking until it sat and rested, waiting for them to walk to it. The younger spotted dog raced to them, then ran in circles around the horses. It chased behind the two horses, barking and leaping in excitement as it tried to herd them.
Hannah was watching the dog and talking to it so intently that she didn’t notice a man emerge from the barn and stand in the shade of the overhanging roof. She looked up and found him there; arms crossed over his chest, a long gray beard hanging down to his chest. His fist was wrapped around the handle of a pitchfork. In all, he didn’t appear pleased to see them.
Sir James seemed in no hurry to initiate conversation. He rode directly to the man, although slowly, and his head moved from side to side as he evaluated the farm, the man, and who else might be present.
“You can stop right there,” the farmer snarled.
The Knight didn’t make a move to slow his horse, but he said, “We have a proposition you may be interested in.”
“You got nothing I want. Since you didn’t stop when I told you, just keep on moving.”
Sir James turned to Hannah, “I’m sorry. I guess you’ll have to go hungry for a while longer.”
She placed both arms over her belly and moaned theatrically. It didn’t emerge as a painful moan to her ears; it sounded like a sick cow, and she almost laughed. Nobody would believe that moan. Her eyes went to the farmer, and she found she was wrong. He almost melted in sympathy.
“I guess I might have a few scraps the dogs haven’t eaten.”
Swinging his leg over the rump of the horse, Sir James said with a wide smile that would relieve any tension, “I cannot thank you enough, sir. I’ll make sure to reward you for your kindness.”
Hannah watched his hand slip into the front of his shirt as if reaching for a purse and the coins it held. Instead, he pulled a small blue object and let it ‘slip’ from his hand. As the farmer bent to retrieve it, Sir James stepped on the grape. Blue smoke boiled out.
Hannah held her breath and watched Sir James, her new ‘uncle’ do the same. The blue smoke quickly dissipated in the breeze, but neither of them let the air from their lungs. The farmer squinted, his eyes focusing on them, then slid off as if he didn’t understand why they were there. Sir James reached for the pitchfork and pried it from the farmer’s fingers. “You won’t be needing this. We’re your friends.”
He glanced at Hannah and the open barn door. She reached for the reins of the other horse and rode in, leading the other. Inside, smelled of old hay, damp dirt, and a hundred animals who had called the building home over the years. Hannah found she liked the combination of earthy smells. Tools hung on every wall, including harnesses, hammers, scythes, and buckets.
Sir James entered, his arm around the shoulder of the farmer to guide him. “Put the horses in the stalls and get their saddles and bridles off. They need a break from the saddles or they’ll get sores.”
She leaped to obey. Sir James placed the farmer on the floor that was covered with fresh straw. The dogs curled up next to him. The Knight opened a gate and motioned to a worn out wagon, gray with age, but the wheels looked solid, each rim circled with a rusted strip of iron testifying that the wagon had not traveled in some time.
In contrast to the fancy carriage the Old Mage rode in, Hannah saw the wagon as a box on wheels with a seat set higher for the driver to see over the mule. It had no springs and no paint on the bare wood. After the ride in the Old Mage’s magical white carriage, she was not impressed.
‘Uncle James’ said, “I saw a mule out in that nearest pasture. Want to go see if you can get it in here?”
The horses had become her friends over the last two days, and when she caught sight of the swaybacked mule and the angry look it gave her, she decided the horses would be better to pull the wagon. But her ‘uncle’ had told her what he wanted, and she needed to not only begin thinking of him as her uncle, but she needed to obey him. She approached the mule carefully, and the mule backed off a step. Hannah moved two careful steps forward, and the mule backed two.
She darted forward. The mule spun and kicked in her direction with both back feet, barely missing her, but all the more impressive considering its age. It ran away to the rear of the pasture. She chased it, almost reaching it before it trotted off to another corner, a hundred paces away, where it watched her like she was poison, ready to dart away again when she drew nearer.