and I am getting hungry. I stretch and twist my arms and body to get rid of the knots in my muscles.

Once we've eaten, we'll need to work with the horses. Lady Morgause will want them looking their finest on the morrow...so for us, it's brushes and combs tonite. Suits me fine. Beautiful animals.

Ottmar is setting to, laying the fire and arranging the fireirons. He's a fair cook knowing all those herbs. We'll eat just fine. My mouth begins to water at the thought of one of his stews and the thin bread he cooks on a flat stone.

Finished with my work for the time being, I walk over to the pasture to look at the horses. Near the fence, a small girl crouches next to a cage of chickens and another bag, watching the horses with a dreamy look on her face. I grin to think of the scolding she's going to get from her mother over the grease stains on her clothes from the sausage she's eating.

I clear my throat loudly so I don't frighten her. She looks at me fleetingly, then turns her attention back to the horses. I don't blame her. They are magnificent.

"Hello," I say gently, "do you like the horses?"

Once more she turns to me. "Oh, yes," she breathes, "they are like something out of the faerie stories!" And her eyes drift back to the pasture yet again.

"How would you like a ride, little one?" I ask. She looks so like my small sister. Surely no one will mind if I give a tiny child some small pleasure.


Climbing the fence, I whistle down the nearest horse, Stormcloud. Obediently, he trots over and nuzzles my chest. Looking for his apple, no doubt.

I blow into his nostrils and stroke his neck. I look at the little girl. "Well," I say, "do you want to ride or not?"

Her small voice quavers, "Can I? Can I really?"

"Sure you can. Come here and I'll lift you up." She's light as feathers, I think as grasp her under the arms and swing her onto the horse's back.

Stormcloud whickers as I grasp his halter and begin to lead him in a gentle walk around the field.

"Hold on to his mane, little one. And press your knees into his sides to keep from falling," I instruct the little girl. I smile at the expression of pure delight on her face. "What is your name, little one?"

"Ceri, m'lord, my name is Ceri."

I chuckle. Ottmar and Hanse will get a laugh out of that-- m'lord" indeed!