A quiet day today, my only excitement was a lively debate with Sir Scutterscarry, a mouse with delusions of chivalry who lives in the potting shed. He is something of a cheesie, which is a foodie, but – well – you can guess which particular type of food he focuses on. It seems this week’s …
They were camping that night, set up in a roadside clearing used by trade caravans who’s plodding horses and bulky wagons couldn’t make the full run through the forest between dawn and dusk. It was a large clearing with a well-worn path to a wide, clear stream nearby. Tonight, the clearing was empty of everyone …
Sarah handed her a little pot. “Have Cadan help you put this on before bed. It’s an easing salve for sore muscles. It'll leave your smock a little green, but we've got the big wash due for our household tomorrow. All the sheets and cloths, so it won't be a big addition and you're going …
I was in my office (upstairs, computer, back door) when Sarah, the twelve-year-old from the Holmeshallow Farm family came pelting up the driveway. Unusual. She used to be running and skidding everywhere but got in with a new crowd at school, I’m told, and now it’s all about ‘the look’ and never being enthusiastic. I …
Anya’s mother poked her in the back. “Go and greet your favourite cousin.” “How can she be my favourite cousin when she’s barely one at all? She’s some sort of fifth cousin, twice removed; and claiming we’re related will make me look like the worst sort of encroaching mushroom.” Lady Charlotte Fontenbras, granddaughter of the …
Punching bread dough proved a very good way of working through the details of the previous two days and relating them to a sympathetic Sarah. At the end of Eleanor’s story, the older woman shook her head. “Well, all I can say is I’m glad it was our Cadan who walked through your door at …
They went south. An easy decision since they spoke the language, although Byron was going to need to chisel the aristocratic edges off his accent. Not that Reba mentioned it. She just emphasised her way of pronouncing words every now and again, he caught on quickly. In the moments Bryon let himself be thirteen, he'd …
My cottage is, of course, more than it appears. What’s the point of power if you can’t have a little fun with it from time to time? To start with, it’s not a cottage, it’s a converted barn. One of those huge old stone ones with walls two feet thick. If you come by way …
“I think I’m going to be sick.” Piety did look unwell. Anya fetched the washbowl from its stand in the corner and set it on her friend’s lap. Then she sat beside her, not too close, just in case, and asked. “Why?” “Papa’s in a private meeting in his study with Lord Craigmore.” Anya frowned, …
Bryon returned with the city guards behind him. The guard captain looked over their captured quarry, then asked. “Any reason you’ve gagged Prince Grayden, as well as trussed him like a pig for the spit?” Reba tried to look bored. “He kept trying to do deals with me. Said I could take my lad there,” …
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