Greenwood Knight

Chapter 3

A few days' ride south of Brecken Moors Hall is a farm...

"Good Morn."

"Good Morn, Father." Gwyndolyn smiled over her shoulder as she continued to knead the day's bread. "You are awake earlier than usual. Does your knee pain you?" She paused, taking a longer look at her father, concern etched in her features.

Since his accident three moons prior, he seemed to have more bad days than good ones. The lack of sleep showed itself in the constant presence of the dark circles carved beneath his eyes. Fatigue slowed his steps and hunched his shoulders, but she noticed with a smile, it could not diminish the youthful twinkle in his clear blue eyes.

"Nay."

"When I am finished here, Little Jacques and I are going to start on filling our food stores again."

"At least they left the fields to us. That way we can harvest enough to get us through the winter, though I know not what we shall plant come the spring."

"I believe it is closer to the truth to say they left the fields because they were too lazy to bother. And probably they thought we could replenish our stores so there would be more for them when they come through on their way back."

"Do not say such a thing. You know that it is our duty as loyal subjects to provide quarters for his majesty's soldiers when they present themselves."

"Right." she answered with a frown, setting the shaped dough to rise and covering it with a cloth. Turning around, she was struck with the memory of those soldiers kicking away her father's crutch and—taking a deep breath she swept away the images like so many cobwebs and gave her father a big smile. "Shall we get started?"

---

As she tied the last bundle of wheat, she felt her hands cramp and sighed. She sent Father back to the house hours ago... and her little brother was not much help. At ten, Robin suffered from an excess of enthusiasm but he was also easily distracted. He wandered off somewhere before the sun reached midday.

As she dragged herself back to the barn with Little Jacques and the little cart in tow, she felt like maybe she had stones tied to her, dragging her down and making every step an effort. Little Jacques was happy to see the inside of his stall, but as she unloaded the last bundle from the wagon she sighed. At this rate, snow would fall before she managed to put away enough to carry them through the winter.

Gwyndolyn shut the barn and leaned against the door with a sigh, looking up at the stars. They were her comfort when her mother died, when Father had his accident, and when her brothers were taken away. She knew that all she had to do was get through the daylight, and she would be able to look up and see the stars and that they would be the same as ever they were.

Gathering up the last of her energy, she shuffled toward the house. Her plans for making the morrow's bread tonight were dismissed as she slipped into the house. Too tired to bother undressing she started for the little room she shared with her brother. Except the little imp was sprawled over the entire bed. With a sigh of resignation, she shut the door behind her.  Slowly lowering herself to the floor before the hearth, she curled into a ball with her arm for a pillow. She was asleep almost at once.

---

Gwyndolyn was awake well before dawn. Her aches and pains from the day before had settled themselves into her muscles and she could not sleep another moment.

Maybe if she started moving around, the aches would work themselves out.

By the time the first rays of the sun began to color the sky with shades of grey, the day's bread was cooling, the eggs were gathered, the cow was milked, the butter was churned, and she was contemplating heading out to the field again.