Dream of Me/Believe in Me

very hall, do it.”
    “Lord … the sheaves will rot.”
    “They won't be here long, only a day perhaps. Put the children to gathering the rest of the apples.” He turned to Krysta. “Will you go with them? Help them to manage?”
    “Yes, of course, but what is wrong that there should be such hurry?”
    “Perhaps nothing, but we may be in for an unusually bad storm. If that happens, we could lose everything still in the fields.”
    Edvard paled at the thought. He clutched his accounts tightly. “That cannot be allowed. Such waste would be abominable.”
    “My point exactly,” Hawk said. There was comfort in knowing that it was only waste they would face, not disaster. So wealthy was Hawkforte that it could withstand even the loss of half its crops without threat of starvation. Yet he was determined there would be no such loss, or at least no more of it than he could prevent.
    Edvard rushed off to spread the word as Krysta hurried to assemble the children. She went to Edythe first, rightly judging that the little girl would have her friends organized. In short order, they were all trooping off toward the orchards.
    On the way they passed one of the fields gold with high, feathery-topped stalks of oat waving in the breeze. Hawk and his men were already there. The soldiers of the garrison and Hawk's lieutenants had, indeed, put aside their swords and taken up scythes. It would have been a startling scene were it not for the master of Hawkforte himself cutting through sheaves of oat as though he had been born to the task. The peasants and townsfolk whowere also working the field were astonished. The sheer impact of so unlikely a spectacle reminded them of how extremely serious the situation was and they fell to with a will.
    As did the children who scampered up the heavily laden branches of the apple trees to shake the fruit into waiting blankets held out by their fellows. They shortly had so many baskets filled that a wagon was needed to haul the bounty back to Hawkforte. While they waited for it to return, Krysta insisted they sit down under the trees and rest.
    “Why does Lord Hawk think a bad storm is coming?” Edythe asked as she finished drinking and passed the water skin to Krysta.
    Never had water tasted so good as it did after the hot work in the orchard. Several of the children were flopped on their backs, already dozing. Others clustered nearby, listening quietly.
    “I don't know,” Krysta admitted, “but I am sure he has good reason.”
    “The day seems little different from any other,” Edythe persisted.
    “It does smell a bit odd though, don't you think?” Krysta had noticed that only as they were working. Mingling with the perfume of the apples was a deeper, heavier odor she couldn't identify.
    Edythe took a sniff and frowned. “Yes, it does but it's not a bad smell. I wonder where it's coming from.”
    “I warrant you wonder about a great many things,” Krysta said with a smile.
    The little girl shrugged. “That's true. Mama says I ask too many questions but she always tries to answer them just the same. Papa says if I wag my tongue so much, it will come loose and fall off.”
    “I wouldn't worry about that happening.”
    “Oh, I don't, that's just Papa wanting a bit of quietafter working all day. Besides, Aelfgyth, says it's good to wonder about the world, otherwise how would we ever learn anything?”
    “Aelfgyth? Is she your sister?”
    Edythe nodded. “She is and she's desperately glad to be your maid. She was surprised, at first, when Dreadful Daria sent her to you because she's never gotten along with her, but then she realized—” The little girl broke off abruptly, taking a sudden interest in the blades of grass she was plucking.
    “It's all right,” Krysta said. “Not that I would encourage disrespect, but I understand people have feelings they can't always contain.”
    Edythe nodded gratefully but did not continue. Krysta hesitated, reluctant to gossip, yet too curious to let the matter drop. “What did Aelfgyth realize?”
    “That Lady Daria wasn't looking for the best maid in the world for you. She was always complaining about Aelfgyth's work so she obviously didn't think much of it, which is what made her choose Aelfgyth for you.”
    Krysta laughed and shook her head ruefully. “I'm surprised I didn't end up with a dozen or more maids, for I have the impression Daria thinks very little of anyone's work.”
    “Oh, that's the truth! There's absolutely no