Dream of Me/Believe in Me

struggled to get her bearings. Everyone wanted to speak with Hawk and did so unhindered, calling out to him from other tables. He was involved in several conversations at once, juggling them all with gracious ease. High good humor abounded, and any barriers of formality that might usually exist dissolved in the spirit of the moment.
    Cheers erupted as a young man and woman from the town came forward shyly to present Hawk and Krysta with poppets made from the last gleanings of the harvest. This was a custom with which she was not familiar and she was uncertain what to do until Hawk rose, taking her hand, and led her to an old oak tree that stood at the edge of the field. Following him, she placed her poppet together with his high on a branch of the tree as the watchingcrowd cheered. The sun was setting and torches had been lit. By their dancing flames, the world seemed cast in ancient shadows.
    “King and queen of the harvest,” he explained, gesturing to the poppets. “Some folk still believe honoring them assures the fertility of the land.”
    “Do you believe it?” she asked quietly.
    He shrugged. “I don't see that it does any harm.”
    Holding her hand high in his, he led her back to the table. As they resumed their seats, a line of young men garbed all in white with their faces blackened ran out into the open space before the diners. From their costumes dangled hundreds of brightly polished bits of metal that reflected the firelight over and over, making them seem as though they moved in the midst of tiny suns. They carried sticks that they began to bang together rhythmically as they moved in the patterns of a dance so old it seemed etched in their blood and sinew.
    Krysta watched with delight, she who loved to dance, for here at last was something familiar. She had seen such dances, performed by Vestfold folk.
    Hawk watched her watching the dancers and smiled to see her greater ease. He still had no notion of what troubled her but he was determined to set it to rights, whatever it might be. The business of getting to know each other had surely gone on long enough. He meant to tell her so but not here, not now in the midst of such revelry. It needed a private moment, that rarest of gifts but one he intended to give them both, soon.
    He looked out toward the sea and smiled, knowing what the morrow would bring.

Chapter TEN

    K RYSTA PAUSED AND LOOKED AROUND CAUTIOUSLY before descending the last few steps into the hall. There was no sign of either Daria or Father Elbert, for which she gave silent thanks. She had no doubt that having been made to endure the spectacle of the harvest feast, albeit from the distance of her quarters, Daria would be in even worse humor this day than was usual. She would be looking to take back her own in any and all ways available to her, with Krysta her most likely target. Therefore was it Krysta's notion to see what she could do to absent herself for at least some little time. She was thinking over that, and munching on an apple, when Hawk strode into the hall, saw her, and smiled.
    “I was in search of you, my lady. Did you sleep well?” How she had or, more to the point, had not slept was not a subject she cared to discuss with him. Toward the end of the harvest feast, when ale and mead flowed in abundance, couples took to going off hand-in-hand to find their pleasure. Even staid Edvard was nowhere to be seen by the time the feast was over, nor was Aelfgyth.
    Envy was a petty emotion yet Krysta could not elude it. It had kept her restless throughout the night.
    “Why in search, my lord?” she asked, dodging the question.
    “I wondered if you might like to go sailing.”
    “Sailing … with you?”
    “I was not suggesting you go alone.” He spoke with gentle chiding.
    “No, of course not, I only meant …” Flustered, she took a breath and tried again despite the sudden racing of her heart. “Yes, thank you, I would like to go sailing.”
    He grinned at her formality but looked relieved in the bargain. “Come then, before a host of well-intentioned folk appear with dozens of matters requiring our immediate attention.”
    Our.
A sudden carefree spirit seized her. She laughed and took the hand he offered. They slipped away down back lanes to the pier where Hawk kept his boat. He helped her into it, untied the mooring rope, and jumped down to join her. A cat prowling among barrels of salted fish watched them go.
    Hawk raised the single mast and unfurled the sail. The