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springs until sometimes I fairly want to whack him.  He pure torments me sometimes.  Tristan as well, but not near so as Peyton.  If he didn’t smile and help me every time, I’m sure I would be sore vexed.”
    Her mother only smiled and said, “All boys are like that I’m afraid, daughter.  And the fact that you are uncommonly lovely only makes you more fun to tease, I fear.  You’ll have to get used to it and learn to ignore it somehow.  It’s only bound to become worse as time goes on.  At least it’s all in good spirits.  I’m afraid that in time, the young ladies will become jealous and their teasing won’t all be fun spirited.  Sadly, sometimes we women can be treacherous.”
    “What do you mean, treacherous, Mother?”
    Isabella Kincraig only waved a hand and stood to add another log to their small fire.  “It’s nothing, child.  Simply another one of those things you are far too young to consider.  Come have some stew.  It looks to be ready now.”
    “It smells wonderful, Mother.”  She came to stand beside the fire as well and put a hand on her mother’s shoulder where she bent to stir.  “I’m so lucky to have such a fine cook for a mum.  The boys fair do my bidding for food when they come.”
    “And you’re nigh as fine a cook as I am, even at your tender age, Chan.  ‘Twill come in handy in your lifetime, it will.  Many’s the time that sumptuous fare has been a means to a good end.  It’s not just boys who will learn to barter for a taste.  Your father once bargained for a fine new horse if I would provide tarts to the master for the birthday celebration of the dowager aunt.  My, but your father was proud of that horse.  And he looked near as handsome as a bold knight sitting upon it, he did.”  Her mother had a far off look upon her face that made Chantaya hesitate to intrude on her mother’s pondering.
    Finally, Isabella seemed to bring her thoughts back to the present and offered what she had dished.  Chantaya accepted the wooden bowl of the stew from her mother and asked, “Do you still miss him?”  Her mother nodded wordlessly, and softly Chantaya added, “Shall I pray, Mama?”
    Nodding again, her mother bowed her own head as Chantaya said a short grace and then quietly began to eat, wishing there was a way to ease that soul deep loneliness she could see in her mother’s eyes and that Chantaya could remember more of her father.  The only thing she could truly remember was that he had been so tall and dark and such a very gentle man.  ‘Twas a pity her memory was so hazy.
     
                                                             SSSS
     
    Peyton finished unloading the reeds he’d delivered to where his father was working on one of the roofs of the village.  He lifted several bundles up the ladder onto the roof for him, before climbing back onto the cart to go to the edge of the marsh south of town, to cut another load.  As he went to slap the reins onto the cart horse’s rump, his father called down from the roof, “That’s fair enough to finish this one, Peyton.  Go on home and find yourself some mischief.  You’ve been a great help today.  Thank you.”
    Nodding, Peyton turned the gentle horse for home and glanced at the sky.  Might be there was time enough to go visit Sir Mordecai.  He’d been wanting to get back to see the old knight for days now.  At home, he put the horse and cart away and stopped to speak to his mother a moment before walking off into the woods, knowing she assumed he was going to see Chantaya and Isabella.  He didn’t think she would mind him visiting the renowned knight and he set off through the woods at a brisk walk.
    Sir Mordecai was sitting on the bench on his porch mending what looked to be the horse’s headstall when Peyton emerged from the depth of the forest.  The knight’s head was up and watching as Peyton stepped out and Peyton had no doubt the