He had just dropped the leaves off for burning and was returning to begin another round when he saw Anna running toward him, her faithful companion cantering behind her. So excited was she that she hadn't taken the time to put on a shawl. She stopped in front of him, shivering from the cold morning air, but her face was keen with excitement. Almost as soon as she halted she burst out, "Did you hear the news? The queen is coming to Uxley!" Her eyes were lit up, and her smile was infectious.
Gerald paused, leaning on the rake and looked at her. He turned his head to examine the estate and the mass of leaves that was wearing him down. All he could think of was the work he would need to do to make the place presentable.
"Did you hear me?" she burst out again. "The queen! She's coming to Uxley Hall!"
It was hard to see her enthusiasm and not smile, and so after a moment, he relaxed and let her infectious grin spread to him. "That's terrific news," he replied. "Just when is this grand event to happen?"
Her reply came out almost before he finished speaking, "She's coming on Tuesday and staying for a week. Isn't it great?"
"It certainly sounds like it will be interesting," he responded, "but if the queen’s coming, I've got a lot of work to do. Look at all the leaves!"
She cast her eyes around the entrance road. The roadway was choked with leaves in hues of red, brown and gold. "We can help!" she said, enthusiastically.
"We?" he replied, doubt written all over his face.
"Tempus can help too," she explained earnestly.
"Tempus doesn't rake leaves," he stated, "he rolls in them, remember?"
"But what if he pulls the wheelbarrow? He's a large dog. He can carry stuff."
"How would a dog, even one of Tempus' size, pull a wheelbarrow, Anna? It just wouldn't work," he explained.
She looked at her dog, her eyebrows knotted in a furrow. "Couldn't he pull a cart or something? We could give him a harness like a horse, and have him pull a cart. Then we could use the cart like a wheelbarrow!" This last statement was made with pride.
It was indeed an intriguing concept. Tempus was huge, the size of a small pony, damn, even a large pony. It wouldn't take much for a saddle maker to rig up a harness. After all, dog carts had been used for generations. Having a cart made that he could pull might be a bit trickier, but perhaps there was a pony cart they could use. He was considering the situation silently, looking at the large dog and trying to figure out how it might be done when was interrupted by the girl’s voice.
"What do you think Gerald? Will it work?"
"You know," he paused for a moment, "it just might. I have to go into town later today, and I'll talk to Sam to see what he thinks. As long as it doesn't take too long, I believe we 'll give it a try. When did you say the queen was coming?"
"Next Tuesday," she replied.
"It's Wednesday today, so that gives us a few days at least. I tell you what, if we can get this idea working by the end of day on Friday, we'll give it a try. If we don't have it working by then, we'll have to get to work without it. What do you say?" he looked at her, gauging her response. "Do we have a deal?"
"Deal!" she responded.
"Excellent!" he replied, holding out his hand.
She stared at his hand, not understanding the gesture. Her face looked perplexed, and the inner turmoil could be seen as she fidgeted slightly. Finally, she extended her hand and stood, their hands about two feet apart.
Gerald stepped forward and grabbed her hand, shaking it. "It's a deal then. We'll seal it with a handshake."
He could see her small mind finally grasping the situation. She looked quite proud of herself.
"Now, if you can convince that dog of yours not to roll around in the leaves, we have some work to do before lunch. You'll need to go get a rake from the tool shed, but before you do that, you need to go put on something warm, it's far too chilly out today for you to be wearing just that dress!"
"Alright!" she turned to run back to the Hall. "I'll get changed and grab a rake. Come on Tempus!"
The huge dog lurched upright, sending leaves scattering and galloped off toward the Hall, following the little girl who was tearing across the lawn in excitement. All Gerald could hear in the distance, fading as she got further away was her yelling, "The queen is coming! The queen is coming!"
The afternoon sun found Gerald walking into town. He had considered taking a cart, but he told himself that he was getting soft. A walk into town would do him good. The trees were throwing their golden leaves in front of him even as he walked. It was quiet here, only the distant sound of the occasional bird or the rustle of the leaves disturbed his thoughts. He was thinking about the royal visit. What did he truly know about the queen?
He was aware that Queen Elenor had married King Andred many years ago. The union had produced two sons, Henry, the oldest, and Alfred, along with a daughter, Margaret. Margaret was the youngest, and she would be somewhere around twelve. Everyone knew the king had a mistress, and the queen had not been seen at court for many years, except for sporadic events. It was speculated by many that the king had tired of his queen after the birth of their last child, as his mistress had appeared on the scene shortly thereafter. It must be hard, he thought, to be discarded in so public a manner. He felt sympathetic towards the queen but realized that he knew very little about her.
The king was not known to be a pleasant man, and Gerald’s experience of the monarch at Bodden bore that out. He had never spoken to him directly during that time, but he had spent enough time with his retinue to be able to form an opinion. He remembered the monarch as an obstinate man, seldom interested in the opinions of others. Perhaps the rumours were not true, the poor always complain about the rich, but then again he never heard a bad word about Baron Fitzwilliam, so maybe a portion of it was true. He could imagine the wrath of the king being something that one would want to avoid. He supposed that the queen was lucky to have only been banished from court.
He thought on this in some depth. More on his mind, however, was how the queen would view the estate. He had convinced himself that he wanted the grounds to look perfect. He certainly couldn't make them perfect in the short time he had, but he wanted her to feel as though some considerable effort had been made to make the place presentable.
He was deep in thought when he heard a twig snap. He halted immediately, his soldier’s sense alert to the possibility of ambush, instinctively reaching for his weapon, then remembered where he was. He felt foolish for not carrying a sword then cursed himself, for he was acting irrationally; he was in the middle of the kingdom, safe from Norland Raiders.
He stood quietly for a moment, then resumed his walk. Was he hearing things? He thought there could be bandits in the area. They had been seen from time to time. Then again, he was only a groundskeeper, poor pickings for thieves. He kept walking, willing himself to calm down. He eventually took a deep breath and let it out slowly, then quickened his pace slightly and set his mind to the task at hand, continuing on his way. The road took a slight turn, and began to descend, revealing the village of Uxley in the distance. His friend Sam's workshop was opposite the stables at the very beginning of the town, just before the bridge that spanned a stream. The village proper was just beyond that, with the bulk of the Old Oak Tavern nestled beside the massive tree that gave the place its name.
As he strolled down the road, he heard a bark and Jax came running toward him. Sam looked up from where he was sitting to take note. He looked like he was oiling some leather and upon seeing Gerald approaching, he placed it on the bench next to him and got to his feet to greet him. Jax was running around Gerald in circles, excited to have a visitor.
"Gerald! What brings you to town?" The saddle maker extended his hand.
"I've dropped by to see you about something, perhaps over a drink?"
"I've got just the thing, come with me." They entered the saddler's workshop and crossed to the small room in the back where he lived. There was an earthenware pot with a spigot on it. He gr
abbed a mug from the shelf and placed it beneath, turning the tap to reveal a golden cider. Gerald could smell the richness of the aroma that wafted towards him. Sam handed him the mug, taking another to pour himself a similar amount. "Tuck that into you."
"Mmm, smells good." Gerald took a deep breath. "I see you've been busy brewing again."
Sam prided himself on his apple cider. It was believed by many to be the best around. He even sold some to the tavern.
"Yes, I've managed to make a few… adjustments. What do you think?"
Gerald took a deep swig, it was a dark nectar, and the fruitiness warmed him. "Delicious, it has just a hint of something, very nice. If it's not a secret, what did you add?"
The saddler smiled conspiratorially. "Hazelnuts, but if you tell anyone, I'll deny it."
Gerald laughed. "Don't worry, my friend, your secrets safe with me."
"Now," interrupted Sam, "much as I like your sparkling personality, what is it you came to see me about?"
The old groundskeeper took a swig of cider, relishing the taste as it warmed him to his toes. "I wanted to get your ideas on a type of harness."
"For a horse, I assume?"
"No, for a huge dog," he said this with all seriousness.
Sam looked like he was just told a joke, but Gerald’s serious face convinced him otherwise. "Well, a dog harness isn't too hard to rig up. I've made dog harnesses before. Whose dog?"
Gerald took a pause, drinking more cider to allow him time to formulate his words. "It's a very large beast, up at the Hall. Taller and more muscular than Jax."
The saddle maker considered this for a moment. "Doesn't sound too hard, I can rig up a harness relatively quickly. I assume this is for pulling something?"
"Well, that's the other part. I want the dog to be able to pull a cart. A two-wheeled type, for carrying things, not people though." He added the last part quickly, not intending to confuse the matter any further.
"Well, I’m not very busy at the moment. I can work out a basic harness and rig, but I'd need to take some measurements. Now, if we can - hold on a moment." Sam moved to the door, outside Jax was barking loudly, alarmed at something.
Gerald followed Sam, and the two of them made their way outside. They could see Jax running around in circles near the edge of the tree line, barking his head off. He could faintly make out a low growl coming from the trees.
"Looks like Jax has found something interesting," Gerald said calmly. "Maybe we should take a look."
Sam nodded his agreement. He entered his workshop and came out a moment later with a pair of knives, one of which he handed to Gerald. "Can't be too careful, there’s all sorts of wildlife around here. Come on."
As they got closer, Jax suddenly stopped running and laid his front paws down, his tail wagging in the air. A moment later, Tempus ran out of the tree line, barking. A young voice said, "Tempus, NO! Stop!"
Sam was startled, but Gerald had to stop advancing and bend over, he was laughing so much. This gigantic dog and Jax were running around each other barking and yapping, both wagging their tails. The saddle maker looked confused. He could see this enormous beast with his own eyes, yet Gerald was laughing his arse off.
Gerald stopped laughing and straightened himself up. "Come here Tempus. You too Anna, I know you're in there!" he yelled out.
Tempus barked and ran toward Gerald, Jax following along behind. Anna shyly made her way out of the wood line.
"This," said Gerald, indicating Tempus, "is the dog I wanted the harness for, and that little girl over there is Anna. She looks after Tempus, or Tempus looks after her, I haven't quite figured that out yet."
Tempus came right up to Gerald, allowing him to pet the massive dog’s head. Jax was still running around barking happily. Anna came forward shyly, her head held down, her long golden locks hiding her face almost entirely.
"Anna, say hello to Sam," said Gerald, "and this is Jax."
"How do you do, sir," muttered Anna, a guilty look on her face.
"What are you doing in town?" Gerald enquired.
"I came to see you get the harness made. I didn't mean any harm."
"Why didn't you just ask to come with me?" he gently prodded.
"I'm not supposed to go to the village. I could get into trouble."
"Don't worry; we won't tell anyone."
"I tell you what," interjected Sam, "how about we get you some nice apple cider, and you can watch me while I measure Tempus. Do you think you would like that? I bet we can have a harness made up in no time."
Anna nodded. She followed Sam and Gerald back into the workshop, hesitating slightly as she entered. The workshop was dark compared to outside, but as her eyesight adjusted, all the tools in the room became visible. Her eyes widened in amazement, and Gerald could see that she was observing each item, each little tool or object as if the whole room were foreign to her.
It only took about half the afternoon to rig up a harness. Luckily Sam had an old harness that he adjusted for the bulk of Tempus. The cart proved to be a little more troublesome. Gerald was talking about how his wheelbarrow took forever to wheel back and forth when Sam came up with the solution. He ended up using two wheels from old wheelbarrows. These he fixed to a single axle and had the frame in place in no time. So impressive was his work that both William Harvey, the blacksmith, and Henry Prescott, the stable master ended up getting involved. By the time dinner time rolled around, there was quite a serviceable little cart rigged up to a new harness for Tempus.
Realizing the time, Gerald suggested they all go to the tavern for some food, but Anna looked terrified. She would be in trouble if she didn't get home. He acquiesced, and Sam offered them a lift. By the time it turned dark, they were riding back to Uxley Hall in Sam's wagon. Gerald and Sam sat in the front seat with Anna between them. Jax and Tempus were lying in the back with the new cart. Gerald invited them in for a bite to eat and they all headed over to the cottage, leaving Sam's wagon near the stables. The harness and cart were wheeled over to the tool shed, with the harness hung up and the cart set aside just outside. Gerald pulled out some bread and cheese he had been saving, and then put a pot of water to boil, tossing in some meat and vegetables.
They began talking as the food cooked and continued well into the night. Anna soon fell asleep, so Gerald wrapped her in a blanket and took her back to the Hall. He caught a blast of trouble when he arrived with the young child in his arms. No one at the Hall knew where she had gone and they were all in a tizzy. He couldn't understand how they would ignore her so much, yet be so upset at her absence. He shook his head; he had long since given up worrying about the strange behaviour at Uxley Hall.
He returned to his cottage and bid Sam and Jax goodbye. As they headed off, he turned in for the night. He had experienced an enjoyable afternoon, more fun than he had had in a while.
The arrival of the queen was far less of a spectacle than Gerald had expected. He was cleaning up the side of the house when he heard the carriage approach, the distinctive sound of its four horses, easy to discern. The horse’s hooves struck the cobblestones, and the sound echoed throughout the Hall. Upon hearing the noise, he walked to the front of the house to observe.
The carriage was richly decorated, accompanied by servants who rode on the back. It was painted jet black with gold accents, the passenger door emblazoned with a coat of arms, and the driver and footmen dressed in expensive clothes. He could see Ned, the estate’s young servant, rush forward to open the door. A small step swivelled down out of the carriage into position, and he watched, fascinated, as the queen exited the coach. A glimpse of her brown hair was all he saw before she covered it with the hood of her cloak which only partially blocked his view of her ornate purple dress. She stepped down to the ground with grace, making her way to greet the servants, who were lined up in front of the door. She waited halfway there, turning to look back at the carriage. Another figure emerged, a child who could only be her daughter, Margaret. Although he could not hear the conversat
ion that transpired between the two, Princess Margaret looked bored and petulant, clearly not wanting to be present.
Princess Margaret walked over beside her mother, and the two of them proceeded down the line of servants, saying nice things and complimenting each of them. The servants looked pleased, and as they arrived at the end of the line, Hanson welcomed them and, by his gestures, invited them to enter the Hall. The queen disappeared from view along with the princess, leaving the servants to fall in dutifully behind.
Gerald wondered where Anna was? He remembered how overjoyed she was with the thought that the queen was coming, but now she was nowhere to be seen. Perhaps, he thought, the queen did not like to see little girls running around the estate?
He did not see the queen again until the next day when he was in the backyard, digging out an old bush that had died. It was warm for a change, and she was wearing a blue and white dress without a cloak. Her hair was tied in long tresses, accented with silver wire making her a striking woman for her age, but she had a sense of sadness to her face. She wandered out the back door and stopped when she saw the old hedge maze. It briefly brought a smile to her face, then she turned and strode back to the Hall.
That evening, when Gerald went to the Hall for dinner, he was given his plate of food and told it was best if he ate at the cottage. He objected, but the cook insisted and said there would be a special dessert tonight and that she would send a servant with some for him. The queen is particular, she said and left it at that.
The third day of the queen’s visit he saw her once more. This time he was working on the front gate, which had become entangled by weeds. He was hacking away at them and paused to catch his breath. Far off, at the front of the estate, he recognized the queen. She had come out front with a smaller person wearing a green dress with a yellow kerchief over her hair. They were talking in low tones, and he couldn’t quite make out any words at this range. It was a private discussion, which was made more evident by the manner in which the queen kept glancing around as if she feared someone might overhear. He assumed that she was talking to her daughter, the princess, but something looked off. He didn’t recognize what it was, but it set his mind to wondering. He tried to ignore the feeling and got back to work on the gate.
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