Homeschooling in Bee's Garden

OK. Time for a giveaway! Blogging is all about readership, and I want to increase mine, as well as get the word out about my new historical fiction novella, "The Time Has Come." You want to know more? Setting? Plot? Aha! Read on…

Below is the first chapter. I want to hear what you think about it. If you post a comment, you will be automatically entered into a drawing to receive a PDF copy of the whole book.

Increase your chances of winning by referring someone! (Reader must also post a comment and site your name to be eligible).

The deadline to enter will be February 13th at midnight. The winner will be chosen at random by monkey ninjas and announced on this blog on February 23rd.

Chapter 1

he morning was misty and damp as Sir Edmund Rembrandt rode his horse, Troy, down the narrow street. The early spring rains had turned the roads into mud as thick as pudding so that the horse at times had to pull at his step. The early morning light gave the scenery a blue haze that made everything seem colder, and Sir Edmund drew his cloak tighter around him. He had been on the road for three days now, hoping to get home to a warm fire and a warm meal. That thought drove him on a little faster, and he clicked to his horse encouragingly.

Sounds of distant battle training wafted to his ears and took him back to the days of his knighthood, before his wounds and scars that never completely healed. He had been in the service of His Majesty, King Nathan the faithful. Back then knights were rewarded for their bravery, even if they were wounded in service to the King. Sir Edmund had received such horrible wounds in battle that many thought he would never survive. He didn’t like to speak of them today, or even think about the painful recuperation that had taken many years. He was not fit for battle after that, but the King had taken pity and gave him Troy, the faithful steed Sir Edmund had ridden in battle, to seek out rich spices from the east. Sir Edmund had a natural ability as a merchant and had become rather wealthy. And so Sir Edmund was living fairly comfortably in his advancing years.

New sounds of children playing nearby brought Sir Edmund back to his senses just in time to see a young child run out into the street, having been chased by her friends. She was startled by Troy and in her surprise spooked the horse as well. Fortunately, for both animal and girl, they were able to miss colliding, and the young girl apologized profusely for scaring the horse. Sir Edmund dismounted and approached to check on the girl’s health. She, in turn, was staring at the horse, mouth open in a gesture of pure adoration.

“Are you alright, lass?” Sir Edmund queried. The young girl just nodded, soaking in the animal in front of her. “Yes, sir, I’m very sorry for scaring you like that. I didn’t see or hear you coming. What kind of horse is that?”

“Well, he is a war horse, young lady. You are very lucky he didn’t trample you.” The girl continued her nodding, noting every detail of the massive animal. He was a gray-speckled steed, very muscular, and with a long flowing mane and tail that looked to the girl as if it were spun out of silver.

Sir Edmund noticed the girl’s small frame and dark long hair and olive skin. She couldn’t have been any older than five, he thought, and didn’t have any business being in the middle of the street. “What is your name, lass?” he asked.

“Elizabeth, sir. My name is Elizabeth,” she answered him.

“Where is your mother, then? Does she know you are out playing in the street so early in the morning?”

Elizabeth hesitated before answering the man, not wanting to draw upon someone else’s pity.

“I have none, sir. My mother died while giving birth to me. My father is also gone, and I live with Miss Rose down the street. I’m out here looking for work to get some breakfast. Would you like me to take care of your horse for you?”

Sir Edmund stifled a chuckle at the thought of this tiny creature trying to brush and take care of his horse. Troy must have stood at 15 hands tall, and the girl only came up to Troy’s elbow.

“I’ll tell you what, lass. If you come show me the best stall to eat at, I’ll buy you breakfast.” Sir Edmund was aware of a change about the girl. She looked almost sad, and when she spoke he noticed for the first time that she did not have the usual posture or speech of the local people. She spoke with a definite, almost noble, inflection in her voice; certainly not the accent spoken in these parts.

“Thank you, kind sir, but I would prefer to work for my meals, rather than accept charity for them. You see, I don’t remember much of my father, but I know that he was a stately sort of person and very proud. He was not the kind of man who would think kindly of his daughter taking handouts. I’ll be happy to show you to the Eagle’s Inn, however. It has very good food, and I hear that many noble people have been happy within its walls.”

“Well, then, young Elizabeth, please show me the inn, and I would kindly like to speak to your guardian, this Miss Rose, afterwards,” Sir Edmund said. “I would like to bring her a free-will gift, if that is permissible,” he added with a smirk, knowing the child would not likely turn down the offer of food when it wasn’t charity.

 

~~~~~~~

 

They went around the bend and presently came to the Eagle’s Inn, a prosperous establishment that tended toward higher noise volume at night, when the ale flowed freely. Sir Edmund bade the horse to stay, and left the girl in charge of his steed while he went in to buy some food.

He wondered about the girl’s upbringing, noting that her posture and accent were all wrong for this sort of environment. He was curious about her history and hoped he could answer more questions than he could ask. He bought some food and went outside to the horse and girl, who seemed to be conversing in hushed tones. They seemed to enjoy each other’s company, he noted.

Mounting the horse, Sir Edmund pulled her up into the saddle in front of him. She gave him directions, and they started off. Sir Edmund looked down at the girl in front of him and pondered how a child could get to be an orphan in a different town, for he knew with most certainty that she did not grow up here.

The wind rose, and Sir Edmund noticed that Elizabeth was trying not to shiver but was very cold. Her skin, though naturally olive, was a bit blue, and he took off his cloak and wrapped it around the slight girl. Despite her best efforts, Elizabeth relaxed and eventually fell asleep, leaning into the arms of the large man.

Sir Edmund, for his part, had found the house, or rather the hovel, where Elizabeth lived, for she had given excellent directions. He slowly dismounted, holding Elizabeth in his arms, careful not to wake her.

An elderly, haggard-looking woman came out of the doorway with an expression of worry upon her face. She had the look not of old age, but rather of many years of hard labor and was stooped from bending at the fire too often. “What happened to the girl, sir?” she asked.

“Nothing, Madam, she’s just tired and hungry. Here, I’ll lay her down, and I brought food for you and her to share.”

Sir Edmund put Elizabeth down on an old worn mat that lay on the floor in the back of the hut by the fire, and then retrieved from the saddlebags two loaves of bread, a large chunk of cheese and goats’ milk, which he then gave to the woman.

“May I ask, Madam, how this creature came into your care? She is obviously not from these parts, and I am curious about her history.”

The woman answered him vaguely, and he could tell she did not trust him with the knowledge she had.

“Madam,” he insisted, “I am a wealthy merchant working for the King. I have no plans of taking her away to a fate worse than this. Indeed, I may be able to give her aid. I know people who might be able to help, if we knew her background. It appears to me that she is from a noble family. Am I right?”

The woman, obviously torn about what to do, went over to the sleeping form of Elizabeth and watched her breathing for a while. Sir Edmund was about to try again when the woman turned around to him again.

“Kind sir, I do not know the girl’s tale, though I do know it is a tragic one. I do know she is of noble birth, though I admit of which family I have no idea. She came to this village two years ago with a woman named Esperanza, who told me she had taken care of the child since birth and that evil men wanted her doom. When Esperanza fell ill with the fever, she bade me to take care of her at all costs. She is a wonderful child, already able to read and write a bit; better than me, I’m afraid. She is no trouble, but proud enough to get noticed around here. Truth be told, I would like to see her go to a better place, but I am worried that whoever wants her dead may come looking for her. How do I know that you will keep your word and care for her well?”

Sir Edmund pondered how best to answer this woman who took charge of the child without even knowing anything about her or what she was getting into. “Madam, I do not know how to guarantee her safety in this dark age, or even her future with me, insomuch as it depends on my own good fortune. I can, however, promise you that I will give her every chance and ability to excel and thrive. I promise to see that she is educated in the finest setting and that I will treat her as if she were my own daughter. As I have no children, I can assure you that she will be well taken care of.”

These words seemed to comfort the woman, and she turned once again to watch Elizabeth sleepily stirring upon the mat. Elizabeth opened her eyes and, seeing the gentleman in her house, stood up a bit embarrassed at having fallen asleep. She walked over to Sir Edmund. “Sir, thank you for bringing me home, and I am sorry for having fallen asleep and troubled you with carrying me in.” Turning to look at the woman, Elizabeth dug out a few coins and put them in her hand. “Miss Rose, here are a few coins I earned today so far. It might buy you a couple of muffins for lunch.”

The woman turned away her eyes brimming with tears. “Lizie, this man is offering to take you to live with him at his house. Won’t that be nice for you?” She turned toward a clay jar and put her coins away, then turned toward a confused Lizie and put her hands on the girl’s shoulders.

“But Miss Rose, I thought you were happy with me here. Have I done something wrong?” She searched the woman’s eyes, groping for answers.

“No, young Lizie. It’s only that this here gentleman can provide you with a warm safe home and an education, and other things I cannot provide for you. I am fond of you, Lizie, but I know this plan is for the best. Now I want you to put on a brave face and a happy heart. I want you to do this for Esperanza, God rest her soul. She would want you to go. This I know.”

With that, she gave Elizabeth a pat on the shoulder, then turned her back on the girl and moved toward the fireplace, small though it was, and pretended to be very busy cooking, though there wasn’t even a pot in sight.

Elizabeth turned slowly around and looked at Sir Edmund closely, not rudely, but curiously, as if searching his heart for what lurked beneath his thick brocade vest and pantsuit. “Sir, if I may ask, if I am to go with you, how am I to address you? I don’t even know your name.”

“Well, Lizzie, you can call me Uncle Edmund. Would that be acceptable to you?”

Elizabeth considered this for a moment, then looked at him levelly in the eyes and answered, “Yes, Uncle Edmund, I would like that very much.”

 

Remember, if you want to read the rest, post a comment and enter to win!!