The Gisborne Chronicles

CHR1/CH1. The Visitor

                                                        
The man looked footsore and weary as he turned into the lane. His clothing was soiled, his shoes worn, and the pack on his back barely held together. Auriel watched him as he approached the farm gate, standing with her hand shading her eyes from the sun. Abigail, now four, was sitting on a blanket outside the kitchen door along with her six month old sister Beatrice, and Guy was somewhere on the farm, industrious as ever in support of his family. The farm was now quite secure financially, although it had seen hard times, and they had recently employed another stockman, Hywell, who now resided with his wife Glenys in the newly rebuilt cottage.

Ghislaine and her brother Gheraint still walked each day to the priory for their lessons, though never willingly it seemed. Thus the need for a schoolroom had passed, and in its place was what Auriel now proudly called, "the Parlour," the room having undergone quite the transformation. She had sewn new window coverings, and made small feather-stuffed, and tasselled cushions covered with the same fabric.

The book cases remained, and there was a large rag rug covering the oak boards of the floor. A local wood turner had made the two settles that were now adorned with the said cushions, and they were in pride of place before the large fireplace. Aunt Gwyneth's favourite chair had also been moved from the kitchen, awaiting her return.

A long year since, after aiding in the safe but protracted delivery of Guy and Auriel's new daughter, Beatrice, she had gone to the home of her sister Gisela in North Wales, to further grieve for her grandson, whose death was still raw in her heart after two long years. Though they had begged her not to go, she had said that reminders of Mordred were wherever she looked, and it was just too hard for her to bear, though she had promised to return when her grief eased a little. "This is my home," she had said, "and it will always be so, you are my grandson's family, as am I, but presently I am better away from the place."

Guy came from the stable building as the man entered the yard, noting that his sword belt was still where he had left it that morning, though he did not pick it up. He was ever cautious of strangers, experience had taught him that, and his magical abilities generally allowed him to quickly get the measure of anyone new that he should meet, although he was still reluctant to probe the minds of strangers, his innate good manners as a Knight ever present. He called out to the visitor as he approached the house, and the man turned, squinting into the sun.

"What might be your business?" Guy asked, " for this is the Gisborne farm and we do not expect company today."

"I seek work Sir, if you please," the man said, "I have lately come from Llanwellen, as a time served farmhand, working with cattle, sheep, and pigs. I would be willing to work for my sustenance alone, and prepared to sleep anywhere you might choose to put me. I have a letter of reference, should you wish to see it, but first I would be grateful for some water, it has been very warm on the road today and I am that parched because of it."

"You are welcome to the water," Guy said, "but I have no need of your services, we are well served by the workers we presently have. But my wife will find you a little food I am sure, and you may spend the night in the barn, though I would ask that you leave on the morrow, as we do not encourage vagrants, however well referenced."

Then he smiled as he saw his wife appear from the kitchen. She was carrying a platter of bread and cheese, along with a small cup of cider, her kind heart ever seeking to aid those she saw as less fortunate. He thought as he looked at her that she was still as beautiful, probably more so, as when they had first come together. But today, she looked especially lovely with the sun on her glorious auburn hair. She was wearing a turquoise gown, one she knew he favoured, and a matching ribbon was around her neck.