Chapter Three
The next morning, the sun beamed bright, and Heather scurried to gather her song sheets as well as her lyre. She had promised several youngsters she would meet them by the big tree to show them how to play it. Where Ahna played any size harp and did it extremely well, Heather had only mastered the hand-held lyre, as she preferred spending most of her time painting. Whether she taught the children to read, play the small instrument, or paint, she thoroughly enjoyed their eagerness to learn, marveling at their well thought out questions.
Emy, Royce’s sister of nine, was a big help when it came to assisting her in entertaining and teaching the others. Kyra, now at the age of five, was a little sweetheart who always participated in the gatherings with a bright eagerness. Heather had been delighted when Ahna and Royce announced before they wed that they would adopt Kyra on their wedding day. She and Kyra were kindred spirits. Both had been left on the abbey’s doorstep.
The children gathered around her on the ground as she explained the instrument and the various strings. After playing a short tune, she allowed their questions and answered them accordingly. As she explained how to pluck the strings, a dog’s high-pitched yips, yelps, and loud whines pierced the air. Gales of laughter followed in their wake.
They all flinched and glanced to the right toward the pathetic and anguished sounds. To Heather’s horror as well as the children’s, a small brown ball of fluff scooted in a zigzag pattern trying to outrun bombarding stones being hurled by a pack of five or six young boys hot on its trail. The boys cheered each time another stone would send the animal to the ground. But the defenseless little creature rallied back up each time in an effort to escape.
Heather saw red. “Stay here so no one gets hurt.” She sprang to her feet. Darting toward the little dog as fast as her bum leg would let her run, she paid no attention to the flying rocks. In one fell swoop she bent, scooped the animal within her arms, and skidded to an abrupt stop in the dirt not five feet in front the hooligans. A few stones pelted the ground around her.
Bold, and with words angry enough to boil ice water, she peppered them with a reprimand to blister their ears. “How dare ye try to injure something this small and defenseless? What harm has this wee one ever done to ye? Ye all should be ashamed. God put ye on this earth to make something of yourselves, to help others, not pick on defenseless animals.”
She patted the dog’s head, then held him out for the boys to see. “Look at him. No more than a wee pup. A starving one, at that, by the looks of him. Why do ye no’ pick on someone yur own size? Or better yet pick on me—and we be seeing just how well ye do, by God!”
Having finished their campaign discussion while breaking their fast, Royce and Geoff descended the keep’s steps to head for the stables. They first spotted the children by the tree staring across the courtyard. Farther over stood Heather holding a dog and facing down a tribe of boys. They could not hear what she was saying, but knew she was not whispering by any means. Several stones dotted the earth at her feet. Geoff took a step forward and would have gone storming over, but Royce put his hand on Geoff’s arm. “Look close. What do you think she is saying to them?”
Geoff took a moment to take in the scene. He chuckled. “I do believe she is giving them hell.”
She strode to stand directly in front of each of them while cuddling the pup. All six stood dour faced, silent and stupefied. Three of them still held a stone or two. Four looked to be twelve, maybe fourteen, while the other two were definitely younger. The two younger ones had the grace to look ashamed. Geoff and Royce edged closer, just near enough to hear.
“Ye do no’ look so tough to me right now. All ye are naughty little boys. And by judging yur ages, ye are old enough to know much better. Do ye be thinking the warriors or knights treat people or animals this way? Well, they do no’. They help others and do good deeds. I do no’ know any mon, for that matter, within these walls or in the village who would harm an innocent pup. Shame on all of ye. I want ye to go home and think of what ye have done today and ask God’s forgiveness. And ye better believe I will be talking to Sir Royce to see this never happens again. Now, go home and do some thinking if ye have any brains in those tiny heads of yurs. A child acts like a mean-minded imbecile. Men act with valor, honor and integrity, and consideration. Think about those words. And if ye do no’ know what they mean, then find out.”
Without a word, the solemn-faced group turned and ambled on their way. One lingered and watched them leave. She recognized him as eight- year-old Toby Brewster. His mother worked in the kitchen, and his father tended sheep for the keep. He had been in one of her reading sessions she held last week. He looked leery and about to cry.
“I…I did no’ throw any stones. I been wanting a dog fur a long time. He showed up last week, maybe from the village and I do no’ think he be having a home. Could I keep him? I would take real good care of him, I would. ” He dug the toe of his scruffy shoe into the dry dirt and twisted it back and forth. “I would never hurt a wee pup like him.”
“Would yur parents let ye have a pup?”
“Oh, aye.” He looked her straight in the eye, and she knew he told the truth.
She knelt down and smiled. “Will ye feed him, make sure he gets water and be cared for?”
“Aye, I promise to take real good care of the lad.” His pleading dark eyes tugged at her heartstrings.
“Then I believe ye best pick out a name for this ball of fluff and be off with the two of ye. But if yur mother or father do no’ want ye to keep him, ye needs come to me at the keep and I be finding another home for him. Will ye do that?”
Toby beamed from ear to ear and he blinked several times to rid the tears clouding his eyes. “Aye, but they be letting me keep him, they will.”
“What will ye call him?”
He studied the pup for a moment. “I think…Lucky. He be lucky ye saved him, and lucky he has me.” The child could hardly stand still he was so excited.
She gave the pup a hug and stroked his fuzz. He be such a cute little thing, she had been tempted to keep him. They both laughed when he licked her cheek. “Well, now,” she handed the pup over and made sure Toby had a good hold on him as he squiggled in the child’s arms. “I do believe he likes that name, and I think maybe ye should take him home and get him a treat. What do ye think?”
“Aye, I think ye be right.”
She stood and smoothed her dress down. “Ye be verra careful with him.”
“Thank ye, Miss Heather.” He could no’ seem to walk fast enough toward the keep. She peered at them as Toby strutted off, looking proud as could be.
She turned back toward the children she had deserted and gasped as she looked up at the two men standing not a few feet away.
Embarrassment assailed her. How much of her rant and rave had they heard as she bellowed at the boys? She forced a nonchalant smile, though she knew her cheeks flushed, and kept walking.
“That puppy has a new master and a new home. ’Tis a fine day today indeed, gentlemen. But if ye will excuse me, I must return to the little ones I left yonder by the tree.”
“And a fine looking pup he is,” Royce said with a nod and a smile.
Sir Geoffrey’s wink had her cheeks blazing red.
She fled before she made more of a fool out of herself.