The Gisborne Chronicles

CHR7/CH1 - Simeon's Arrival, and a Mystery in The Kitchen

As they rode towards home from Llanlivet, Auriel was to the side of her husband, and the son he had so recently met. As she watched, she saw Guy place his chin to the top of the boys head, and she recognised the affectionate gesture. It was one that he always used when he had one of his children before him on his horse. She also noted that Simeon's smaller hand was placed over the larger hand of the man he now called Papa, as he held the reins.

Though she had fully expected that her Guy would accept the boy as his own, this evidence of their immediate ease with each other brought her to tears. It was as if they had always been father and son. That her husband was a natural father was evidenced by the care he now showed to the scrawny child who sat before him. His left arm held the boy tightly to him, and the other controlled his mount, his chin still firmly placed at the top of Simeon's golden head.

Guy turned to look at her as she rode beside him, noting that she wept, and knowing the reason for it.

"He is ours now," he said quietly, " he is already loved beyond measure, and I swear by all that I hold dear, that he will never know fear again. It is a good thing that you have done sweet girl, a golden haired child who will regain his innocent boyhood, amongst those who will welcome him. Dry your eyes, this is a joyous day, for us and this boy whom we will now call son."

As they rode into the farmyard, the kitchen door was thrown wide, and a river of children poured forth, or so it seemed. Aunt Gwyneth came after them, her arms all flour, and her eyes bright with curiosity, little Guy toddling along beside her. Auriel dismounted, and held out her arms to the boy sitting before his father, and then watched as Guy leaned forward and whispered in his ear.

"Best do as she asks," he said, " she is a woman to be reckoned with, especially when there is a motherly kiss on her lips."

The boy slid downwards and into his Mama's arms, clasping her hand tightly when she put him to the ground. There was a brief moment of silence, then Beatrice came forward, her thumb in her mouth, still a source of great comfort to her despite her being almost of an age for schooling. She halted in front of the boy whom she had already been told was her brother, and, after a brief moment of hesitation, she favoured him with a kiss, and took his hand.

This was taken as a signal for all the others to rush forward, and the noise of their welcoming was as evident as it needed to be. Introductions were made, in a haphazard way it is true, but that is the way of all children. Aunt Gwyneth was left to introduce herself, which she did gruffly, but with great affection.

She pointed out the embroidered initials on the shirts of her great nephews and the dresses of her great nieces, telling Simeon that this would help him to recollect the names of his brothers and sisters. As he stared at her unknowingly, and then at the adornments she had pointed out, it came to her suddenly that Simeon could not read, and she was immediately contrite.

" Well then young man," she said," doubtless like all young ones, your memory is keen. A day or two and you will remember all. As for the other, well, I dearly love a book, but my eyes are not what they were, what say you, will you sit with me after supper, and we'll both look to our letters?"

Simeon nodded his head and then asked "What should I call you my Lady?" is it to be grandmama, or some other thing?"

"She is our Aunt Gwyneth,"said Gheraint proudly, " she bides with us, and takes care of us all. She makes good pies, do you like pies?"

Sadly, Simeon had no knowledge of pies, nor any other home cooked fare, save for the badly prepared and very scant meals at the Inn, and the hasty food prepared on the journey he had just completed.

"I can make fire bread, " he suddenly said. His first words spoken out loud since his arrival, "and stirred eggs with cheese, also hare stew with vegetables. If there is not a hare, a rabbit will do, though it needs more cooking than a hare. The hare is more tender because it rushes about so."