Warrior's Moon A Love Story (3 page)

The day Isabella and Chantaya moved into their own little ho
use, Peyton was so sad he near wanted to cry and felt embarrassed for being such a baby at nine years old.  Still, Chantaya had become as dear to him as any little sister.  Once they were moved, his mother asked him and Tristan to go by and check on them almost every day.  ‘Twas a chore Peyton did without ever having to be asked twice.  The three of them would go with Isabella into the wood and build castles and forts while she gathered her herbs, then they’d all go back to the Wolfgars and Chantaya would help the boys with their chores there as well.

That summer she got her own cottage near the village, when Chantaya turned four, Isabella began to teach her to read.  When Peyton and Tristan found them studying together, they thought
‘twas interesting and wanted to learn to read as well.  Some considered the ability to read almost freakish and Isabella hesitantly approached the Wolfgar parents to see if they would approve of letting the boys learn.   Other than the friar from the village church, she was the only one in the whole village and possibly in much more area than that who could read.  ‘Twas a rare enough gift that although the Wolfgars were ecstatic, they didn’t even dare mention it for fear Isabella would be rumored to be a witch and be exiled or worse, and their sons would miss out on the opportunity to become literate. 

The day Peyton brought in an ancient and decrepit book and read to his parents, his father beamed and his mother cried and although it had come with a great loss to Isabella and Chantaya, the Wolfgars were incredibly grateful that the two Kincraigs had come into their lives.  Now they just needed to continue to help Isabella keep clear of their ever more abusive younger master whose messengers showed up every few months wondering about her.  As the years passed, tensions were high with worry about what would happen to the whole estate when this sometimes vicious young landlord assumed complete control as his father eventually turned his lands over to him.

             
                                        
 
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The three youngsters were far out in the woods playing hide and seek behind Isabella’s house one day when Chantaya, now nine years old, happened upon a small stone house.  Knowing that the boys were looking for her, she dropped down upon a grassy bank behind a bush for concealment and began to study the little cottage.  She’d had no idea anyone lived out here.  In the years they’d lived in Navarre, she’d never seen anyone come from here.  

It seemed to be miles from anywhere, but it didn’t look abandoned.
  The shutters were open, and the small porch was neatly swept and held a bench and a wash basin.  There was a horse in the pen to the side.

No one was about and while she waited to be found, Chantaya turned her attention to the horse standing there inside the fence. 
‘Twas nearly white with flecks that looked flea bitten and appeared to be ancient.  Its withers were prominent as were its knobby knees and hips and the bones near its eyes had great sunken spaces between them.  Chantaya could clearly count every rib, although it stood at a full manger, munching listlessly.

After several minutes, Peyton and Tristan hadn’t found her and she decided she needed to go back and shout Alls Free when suddenly the door of the stone house opened and an old man came out.  He looked nearly as ancient as the horse, with what was left of his hair gray and his cheeks like leather, but his stride was still sure and straight as he stepped off the porch and around to the bony horse. 

Chantaya watched in fascination as the old man lovingly handed the aging steed a carrot and then proceeded to curry the horse with a wooden brush literally from head to tail.  The horse didn’t look much better when the old man finished, but it obviously enjoyed every moment of its gentle grooming.  When the man was done, he put a lanky arm over the horse’s neck and stood next to it, speaking for several minutes and Chantaya almost forgot the boys were looking for her as she watched the old pair’s friendship.

Finally, far off, she heard her mother calling and she carefully got up and slipped back over the hill the way she had come and headed for home.  As she neared her own cottage, she decided it might be fun to keep a secret from Peyton and Tristan.  And she wouldn’t tell her mother.  Her mother was always terribly worried someone bad would find them here in the forest, but Chantaya knew instinctively that the old man wasn’t someone bad.  A bad man would never be that gentle with his old horse.

Chantaya was young, but she had learned well from her mother and could find the herbs in the forest nearly as surely as her mother.  Sometimes it was almost a game to Chantaya.  She reveled in learning about the different plants and what they did and what they tasted like.  ‘Twasn’t long before she knew even the mushrooms and truffles.

When they got back to the cottage and her mother lay down to rest, Chantaya would do as her mother bid her and cook using the different herbs and spices.  Even that was like a wonderful adventure to her.  How fun it was to take ordinary looking plants and foods and create delicious smelling and tasting concoctions that would make the boys fairly drool when they stopped in to check on them.  She could get those boys to do anything she asked of them with a good savory brown gravy or bit of a sweet.  That was another adventure in and of itself; getting what she wanted from the boys.  They always let her wander further and have a better time because she cooked for them and adored them so.

Of an evening, her mother would build a small fire in the fireplace, then sit near it and tell stories she made up as she sewed their clothing.  Chantaya was growing so quickly she needed a new dress every few months and the foraging for plants was sometimes incredibly hard on their apparel. 

Sometimes her mother would talk to her about her Papa and what he was like and what a good man he was.  Always, she would speak of when Chantaya was grown and she would find a husband of her own and what kind of man he should be.  She spoke of kindness and honor and being hard working and at nights Chantaya would climb into her little loft bed and dream of a far off love who had the heart of a knight and the gentle touch of her father.

‘Twasn’t long after she’d discovered the old man that one afternoon when Isabella and Chantaya were in the woods with Peyton, and as Isabella was gathering herbs near a small ravine, she fell.  Chantaya heard her give a small gasp, but didn’t think much of it until she looked around and saw her mother lying motionless at the bottom of the wash. 

She was not moving and Chantaya gave a larger gasp of her own and tried not to scream.  She flew down the side of the wash and was kneeling at her mother’s side as Peyton looked over the edge of the hill above her and then vaulted over to slide down to them.  “What happened?”

Chantaya shook her head.  “I don’t know.  One minute she was beside me and then . . .  She must have hit a rock with her head.  Is she going to be all right?”

Peyton nodded, although he grimaced as he did so.  “I think she’ll be fine.  Have you water in your skin?”

“Yes.”  Chantaya scrambled back up the slope to fetch it, then slid back down.  Peyton took her water skin and trickled a bit onto Isabella’s face, but she didn’t react to it and Chantaya turned a worried face to Peyton again. 

He put a hand on her shoulder and reassured her, “She’ll be fine, Chani.  Don’t worry.”

Chantaya inhaled a huge breath at his encouragement.  She should have known everything would be fine with Peyton here.  They sat next to her mother for several minutes, splashing the water again occasionally and finally, Chantaya said, “She’s not going to wake up yet, Pey.  You’re going to have to carry her home.”

He looked at her and rolled his eyes.  “I can’t carry your mother nigh two miles back home, Chani.”

Chantaya looked up at him in puzzlement.  “Why ever not?”

“I’m fourteen years old, Chani.  I’m big for my age, but don’t be silly.  I could carry her for a time, but we’re a long way from your cottage.  We’ll have to go get my father.  And bring the cart.”

“But you’re strong.  I’ve seen you splitting the wood and carrying heavy things.  And that will take hours to fetch the cart!  ‘Twill be dark!  What about the wolves?  I’m sure you’re strong enough.”

He shook his head with a worried look.  “I’m not strong enough.  I’m sorry.  And I don’t know what to do about the wolves.  Can you stay here with her?  I’ll build a fire for you and you can keep it burning to keep animals away until we get back.  Or do you want me to stay and you go for Father?”

The thought of either frightened Chantaya terribly.  Finally, she had an idea.  “I know! We’ll go to the stone cottage.  He’ll help us.  I know he will!  He’s old, but he’s still strong.  I’m sure he is.”

“Who?  What stone cottage?”

“Just over the hill.  There’s a stone cottage with an old man and his old, old horse.  He’ll help us.”

Peyton’s eyes narrowed, questioning.  “What are you talking about?  You’ve been visiting a man in the woods here?”

“No.  I haven’t visited him.  I’ve just seen him.  A couple of times.  He’s gentle to his horse.  He’ll help us, I know it.”

“Chani, you shouldn’t have been anywhere near a stranger.  How did you find him?”

Chantaya only got up to begin trotting into the woods and Peyton immediately jumped up and followed her, grumbling as he jogged, “Chani, stop.  We can’t leave her.  You don’t even know this man.  You know we’re supposed to be wary of strangers.  What if he’s from Lord Rosskeene’s?”  Finally, he caught up to her and grabbed her by the shoulder.  “Chani, it’s going to be dark soon.  Where are you going?”

She looked up at him, then turned and pointed.  “There.”  Peyton turned to look and was amazed to see the little house.  He turned back to her with a surprised look on his face and she smiled.  “I told you.  C’mon.  He’ll help us.  Hurry.”

No sooner had they explained the situation to the old man than he went outside and saddled the ancient horse.  He followed the two of them into the woods, leading the horse behind them.  Nothing was said as they traveled the short distance and as they reached her mother, the old man knelt beside her and felt for a heart beat at her neck and then opened the little bag that swung at his waist and took out a small pouch.  He opened it and held it under Isabella’s nose and in only a moment, she groaned and opened her eyes.

For a moment, she looked frightened, then confused.  Finally, she sighed and gingerly held out a hand to Chantaya.  “I lost my balance and couldn’t catch myself.  Are you well?”

Chantaya gave her hand a squeeze and then looked guilty for a minute.  Finally, she said, “I spoke to a stranger, Mama.  I’m sorry.  We didn’t know what else to do.  He came to help you, though.”  

She nodded toward the old man.  Isabella looked up at him, gave a tired smile and said, “Thank you, friend.  Where did they find you?”

“Just there in the wood.  Do you think you can ride?  Old Wallace isn’t much to look at anymore, but he’ll get you home safe.  Are you up to it if I help you on?”

With a grimace, she nodded.  “Certainly.  Please forgive me for being such a bother.”

The four of them slowly trekked back through the wood and it did indeed get dark before they made it out.  They met Willem just before they reached the Kincraig cottage.  When they were so late, he knew there must have been a problem and came looking for them. 

When he saw the old man, his face showed his surprise and then he stepped forward and extended a hand almost reverently.  “Sir Mordecai isn’t it?  You were once one of the Great Council.  I remember you well, even though I was only a child.  Where did they find you?”

The old man smiled serenely.  “Where old knights go to live out their last days, I suppose.  I built a stone cottage in the woods and try to stay out of everyone’s way.  It’s been a good life for Wallace and me.”  He gave a mellow smile again, but then reminded, “We need to get your neighbor in and see to her.  She’s taken a nasty bump to her head.”

Willem nodded.  “Oh, yes.  Let’s get her to her home.”  The six of them trooped on and took Isabella inside.  They helped her to bed, then Willem laid the fire and lit it while Peyton removed her shoes and Chantaya took the baskets and
put them away.  By the time the fire was lit, when Willem looked around, the old man was gone and all of them were surprised at his leaving so quietly.

After puttering around the cottage while Chantaya made the dinner, Willem commented on what a fine help Chantaya was to her mother.  Then as he had a cup of milk with the three of them before he and Peyton took their leave, he shook his head and said, “He was once one of the greatest knights in all the land.  One of the King’s First Guards, he was.  And known near and far for his bravery and loyalty and fierce defense of the crown.  In his day, he was a legend.  Who would have ever dreamed he lived deep in our woods?”

             
                                        
 
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‘Twas only a few days later as they were working on their fort in the woods that Peyton said to Chantaya and Tristan, “Let’s go back to the stone cottage.  I want to show our gratitude properly.  We never even thanked him.”

Chantaya agreed instantly, “And he has no family.  He said he had come there to live out his last days and he mustn’t be so alone.  It’s not good.  I’m sure it’s not.  We need to visit him.”