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AMY WAS THE FIRST one awake the next morning. She was used to sleeping by herself in her own room, but the fact that this was distinctly not her room disturbed her a little. This bed was incredibly soft and warm, the room clean, the air fresh, but oh, how she wished to be home. Her nurse would have been in the room next to hers, just behind a curtain. The faces of the servants would be familiar, and so would the routine. She had no idea what to expect here.
At least, she reminded herself, Airdella was across the hall and Walter was at the far end. It was a simply constructed house, one she was not likely to get lost in, but she still had that uncomfortable feeling of being a guest in an unfamiliar house that was distinctly not her own.
The room was barely lit with the early morning dawn, and the house was silent and still. No one else was up, increasing the feeling of her loneliness. She could not go back to sleep now, but the air was slightly too cold to get out from underneath the blankets. But she did not want to be by herself in the room any longer. She crawled out from underneath the covers, quickly wrapping one of the blankets around herself. Tiptoeing out the room, she stopped short in front of Airdella’s door and hesitated. This was a dilemma she often faced: whether to risk waking Airdella up. Airdella was not a morning person, and in general did not take kindly to being woken up. Amy did not want to be by herself anymore, but she also did not want Airdella to be grumpy with her for the rest of the day. She settled for being as close as she could get without waking Airdella up. The door itself.
When Dorrian walked past the foot of the stairs a little while later, she was sitting on the top step leaning against the doorframe. All he could see of her was a white face in a ball of white blankets.
He paused and peered up at her, making sure she was awake. “You didn’t sleep there all night, did you?” he asked.
She shook her head and then froze as her stomach rumbled very loudly.
He looked relieved and smiled a gentle kindly smile. “Breakfast it is then. Come along. Bit chilly too. Some hot tea will do us both good.”
He turned to go in the direction of the kitchen, and she padded down the stairs after him. The fire had died down to embers during the night, but with some kindling and new logs, Dorrian soon had it blazing to life and lit a few candles to help them see in the early morning light. Amy watched him hesitantly from the doorway as he filled the kettle and set it on the grate. Then he filled a little pot with water and put it next to the kettle. After bustling around the kitchen some more, he produced a cast iron skillet, a dish of butter, two links of sausage, a cutting board, and a knife.
He stopped when he saw that Amy was still watching him from the doorway. “It’s warmer by the fire now,” he said, pulling up a chair for her. “How would you like to keep an eye on the water for us?”
Amy shuffled across the kitchen floor, blanket trailing behind her, and settled into the chair. Dorrian stood at the table, slicing the sausage links and dropping them into the skillet.
“What kind of tea would you like?” he asked as he chopped. “There are different kinds in that wooden box next to you. Or would you prefer a warm cup of milk? No? Tea it is then. Your brother doesn’t care much for tea, does he? I noticed he forced down one cup but not with much relish. Any ideas as to what he would prefer?”
He continued as if she had answered him, saying something about coffee or perhaps hot apple cider. He kept up a quiet and sporadic conversation, describing where to find a few things in the kitchen should she need them. He talked mostly about the house and their surroundings. As the sun rose higher, he pointed out the different types of birds that were gathering on the patio outside. Whenever he asked a question, he would always give her a moment to answer, then carried on as if she had. He did not seem to mind that she was very quiet, but instead acted as if they had been friends for years. In the short amount of time it took for the water to boil, he had her measuring out some white granular mixture he called “grits”, adding a stick or two to the fire, and pointing out the right birds when he asked their names.
She showed him which tea she wanted, and as he was now frying the sausages, he asked if she wouldn’t mind measuring it out for him. He told her how to measure out the tea leaves to put in her mug, then told her what kind of tea he wanted so she could do so for him.
By this time, Walter’s dreams had been invaded by the smell of sausages, so he came clambering rather clumsily down the stairs. He was always a little clumsy in the morning before he was fully awake.
“G’mornin’,” he paused and yawned from the doorway. He looked with some surprise at his sister, who was now stirring the grits into the boiling water.
She looked up and gave him a smile.
“Perfect timing!” Dorrian greeted him. “A few more minutes and breakfast will be ready. Would you care for coffee or hot apple cider?”
Walter was grateful no one had offered him tea. “Cider, thank you.”
“I thought as much.” Dorrian poured some cider from a jug into a little pot and put it on the grate next to the stove to warm up.
Now that the sausages were warmed up, he scrounged around the kitchen and produced a stack of bowls and some spoons. “And what about your other sister?” he asked as he set them on the table. “I don’t suppose we should wake her up?”
Amy immediately shook her head with a wide-eyed expression.
“Nooooo,” Walter shook his head in agreement. “We’d best just let her get up on her own.”
The three of them sat down to a breakfast of sausage and grits. It was simpler food than the children were used to, more considered peasants’ food or soldiers’ fare. But it was hearty, warm, and tasty.
Strong stomping footsteps echoed in the hallway above them, booming down the stairs, and Airdella came stalking through the kitchen, following the smell of the sausage. Wordlessly, one hand reached out from beneath her blanket, grabbed a piece of sausage, and put it in her mouth. Walter passed her the last empty plate, and she sloppily spooned some of the grits onto it, grabbed a handful of sausage, and plopped down, shoving the food into her mouth.
Amy wordlessly put a mug of tea within Airdella’s reach, and then she and Walter sat back and left her alone. Sir Dorrian simply sat and watched them all in amusement, while he stuffed his pipe and lit it.
“Hmmm,” he chuckled softly. “Is she always like this in the morning?”
“Generally,” Walter nodded. “Basically, she’s like a cat. Don’t touch her or talk to her until she’s ready, or she’ll scratch and hiss and possibly bite you.”
“I don’t bite,” Airdella protested, settling into a more congenial and approachable mood.
“Duly noted,” Sir Dorrian said. He took a few puffs on his pipe. “Now that that’s out of the way, the coachmen are long gone, and you’re more rested up, let’s get a few things out on the table, so to speak, shall we? I won’t pretend I haven’t spent time around much royalty in my youth. Goodness knows I’ve had my fair share, and I’m not much one for formalities, the ekunai dishon zathulon, or manners of court. So, I will leave it up to you. How would you prefer me to address you?”
The three children looked at each other. They had never been asked what they preferred to be called before. They had only been told what they were to be called. Did those titles still apply here? What did “here” even mean?
Walter and Airdella were both surprised when their younger sister was the first one to respond.
“Amy,” she stated simply.
“Amy,” Sir Dorrian pursed his lips. “Short for Amaryllis? I like it.”
Airdella kicked Walter underneath the table, but he shrugged. So long as Amy was comfortable with it.
“Walter,” he decided.
“Good strong name,” Sir Dorrian approved. “Wouldn’t Sir Walter be more fitting? Are you yet a squire? No? Hmmm. We’ll have to work on that one.”
Airdella was the only one left. She struggled with wanting to hold onto her dignity and title, but also intrigued by the chance to live a more informal lifestyle here. But she was a princess and musn’t forget that! “Lady Airdella,” she finally decided.
“As you wish,” Sir Dorrian acknowledged. “Miss Amy, Sir Walter, and Lady Airdella. As for me, you may call me Sir Dorrian, as that’s generally how people refer to me now. Retired knight, or as I like to term it, ‘adventurer’.
“Now, there are some rules of the house, so to speak. You may go anywhere on my lands, which are all enclosed by that wall. There are some hundred acres for you to explore and roam to your hearts’ content. But stay within the walls and do not go out the gates. Plenty of room in here. No need to go out there.
“As far as the house is concerned, you’ve pretty much seen the whole thing. My quarters downstairs are the only area that are off limits. Your rooms, the kitchen, dining room, study upstairs, and so on and so forth, are all open for your use. There is never any shortage of food around here. Mealtimes will be regular, but feel free to come make yourself something in the kitchen should you get hungry. Young ones, as I recall, often are when going through a growing spurt.
“Beware of the goats. They are somewhere here abouts, roaming around. They aren’t dangerous, but they do kick and head butt, and I just want you to be aware of that. There are also deer, squirrels, and other creatures.
“Anything else I’m forgetting? I think that about covers it. These first few days I shall leave for you to get your bearings, and then we need to talk about schedules.”
“Schedules?” the children echoed.
“Yes. Lessons or whatever you call them don’t stop just because you’ve left home. We’ll have to figure out a routine and line of study, especially in the area of skill sets...”
Airdella looked around briefly. “Do you not have any servants?”
“Servants? I’ve no need of them,” Sir Dorrian shrugged. “Not much they could do for us that we can’t do for ourselves. I’ll warrant we’ll survive.
“Any other questions? No? Good. Now, it is looking to be a glorious morning, and it would be a shame for it to be wasted. I’ve found that the best way to adjust to new surroundings is by taking a good walk outside to explore it all. Provided, of course, that you’re not being waylaid by enemy soldiers or sprites... but that is highly unlikely to happen here. So, the day is yours. I leave you to it. Feel free to pack some lunch if you would rather eat outside. I’ve got some planning to do.”
Sir Dorrian left them and ambled off, puffing on his pipe and muttering something about archery, maps, and calculus. They heard a door open and shut on the far end of the house, then they were alone, sitting at the kitchen table.
Walter and Airdella looked across the table at each other, unsure of what to make of Sir Dorrian and their new surroundings. Of course, the question they had all wanted to ask, why they were there, had not been asked, as they were fairly sure they would not get a satisfactory answer. But Amy was already out of her seat and opening the window – Sir Dorrian had been right, this was a glorious spring morning, with a hint of summer adventure in the air. In a moment, Walter and Airdella had thrown all their questions to the wind and were instead exchanging excited and mischievous glances. Amy was right, they were not going to waste this opportunity to go exploring completely on their own.
The breakfast table was abandoned as they darted upstairs to their rooms. Trunks were thrown open in search of the best clothes for outdoor exploration. These were quickly donned, walking shoes were buckled and laced on. Snacks were grabbed from the kitchen and stuffed into pockets. And then they headed out the great oaken door into that great wide unknown hundred acres.
They spent hours exploring, got lost multiple times, tore their clothes on a fence, splashed around in the creek, and finally got unlost enough to find their way back. Sir Dorrian did not see them again until teatime, but he approved of their ruddy cheeks and scratched up clothes, saying they were adjusting well.
Of course, all this adventuring made them hungrier than they had ever remembered being, but as Sir Dorrian had said earlier, there was plenty of food to go around. Blueberry muffins seemed to be his specialty, and they were good muffins.
He surprised them all by asking if they wanted to help catch dinner. By this he meant settling down by the creek that ran through the property with fishing poles until they had caught enough fish for dinner. They had never gone fishing before and thoroughly enjoyed it; that is until Sir Dorrian tried to show them how to scale and gut the fish. Walter was the only one who took any interest in this, but Sir Dorrian warned them it came with the territory. If they wanted to fish and eat it for dinner, they were going to have to scale and gut as well.
After they got all cleaned up, Sir Dorrian made a wonderful if simple dinner of fried fish and boiled potatoes, which they ate of to their hearts’ content. Then Sir Dorrian heated up them up some apple cider and sent them upstairs.
“So, what do you think of it all?” Walter asked, flopping down on the sheepskins by the fire in the upstairs sitting room.
“He is rather nice,” Airdella said slowly. “And it’s really beautiful here. But I have a feeling we haven’t been sent here because of what happened in the nursery but something much more serious.”
“Agreed.” Walter frowned. “Nobody quite hesitates to tell us when we’ve been behaving badly. They would definitely have told us if that was why we were leaving.”
“That’s about the only thing they tell us,” Airdella scowled. “I say, do you have a lot of cinnamon in your cider? Mine tastes very strong.”
A spark jumped in Walter’s head as Airdella compared her mug of cider to Amy’s.
“Maybe, we should doctor up our own cider tomorrow,” Airdella decided.
“How would you all like to be knights?” Walter asked.
Airdella and Amy stared at him in surprise. Amy felt a tingle go up her spine, and Airdella’s eyes got a familiar gleam in them.
“Knights?” Airdella echoed.
Walter’s voice grew excited as he explained. “Yes! There’s no one but us. Do you realize the amount of freedom we’re going to have? No servants constantly watching and waiting on us hand and foot. No court politics. We’re on our own here.”
“We have a chance to be normal children for once,” Airdella said.
“Exactly. And as to the mystery of why we’re here – we could be our own group of knights, always keeping a lookout for clues. If we put our minds to it and work together, maybe we can find out what nobody wants to tell us.”
“And keeping a watch out for each other. There’s no telling what dangers we might encounter this deep in the country. And we can do quite a bit of exploring too. This place is huge!”
“What do you think, Amy?” Walter asked.
Amy nodded enthusiastically.
“What shall we call ourselves?” Airdella asked. “The Knights of the Cottage of Dorrian? Or Dorrian’s Cottage?”
Walter was silent for a moment. “How about the Knights of the Order of the Roses? After all, there are tons of roses here.”
Amy and Airdella both agreed that it was a very good name.
“What can we use for a sword?” Airdella asked. “You know, for the knighting.”
“They packed the sword I got for my last birthday,” Walter answered. “I saw them put it at the bottom.”
In a moment, he had returned with the sword and told Amy to kneel. “Do you vow to protect your fellow knights of the Order of the Roses, to be brave in the face of danger, to stand firm when opposed, and to do what needs doing when others won’t do it?”
Amy simply nodded to each of them, and Walter tapped her gently on each shoulder with the sheathed blade of the sword (he would have taken it out of the sheath, but Airdella insisted that swords were dangerous enough without having the ability to cut).
Then he turned to Airdella and did the same thing, only Airdella repeated the vow herself, and he tapped her a little less gently than he had tapped Amy. Then Walter knelt, and Airdella knighted him.
“But most important of all,” he said afterward, “we must keep this to ourselves. We shall be knights in secret, for no one can know our identity.” This they all agreed to.
That was the real beginning of their adventures.
The next morning, Sir Dorrian entered the kitchen to find the children already there, fully dressed and busy as bees. Amy was measuring out tea leaves, while Walter was uncertainly slicing a loaf of bread and Airdella was more vigorously slicing some salami.
They all looked up when he came in and greeted him.
“Good morning,” he returned. “You all look ready for an adventure!”
For not being much of a morning person, Airdella certainly seemed to be enjoying herself as she wielded her knife against the helpless log of salami. Walter was having less success, but Sir Dorrian quickly deduced what the problem was.
“Here, try this knife,” Sir Dorrian suggested, pulling a different knife out of the knife block. “See, for breads and other thick-skinned things, you’ll need a knife with a serrated edge like this. There you go!”
Walter returned to slicing his loaf of bread with renewed vigor now that he had a better knife. Airdella moved on from slicing the salami and onto the cheese. Amy handed Sir Dorrian a mug of tea, having remembered what kind of tea he liked.
“Why thank you, Miss Amy,” he smiled.
She smiled back up at him and then pointed out the window at the collection of birds on the patio.
“Ah, they’re back!” he nodded. “They like to play and drink from the fountain. But it looks like we have some newcomers today.”
Airdella and Walter set a plate heaped with bread, salami, and cheese in front of him.
“Ah, wonderful! Thank you,” Dorrian exclaimed.
The children stood beaming back at him. They were quite pleased with the results of their efforts, especially considering it was their first time ever actually fixing breakfast for themselves, let alone somebody else.
Airdella and Walter divided the rest of the bread, salami, and cheese onto the remaining three plates, and they all ate a hearty breakfast together. Sir Dorrian watched the children hurry through their meal, their minds clearly on all their plans for the day.
Finally, he cleared his throat. “Well, I was going to teach you three about doing dishes today,” (here their faces fell a little in trepidation as doing dishes did not sound at all pleasant), “but considering that the three of you fixed breakfast for all of us, I think you deserve to get off on doing dishes.” (Here their faces brightened again.) “You are obviously in a hurry to be somewhere, so I won’t keep you. I will say that if you’re planning on packing a snack, there are some scones leftover from yesterday’s tea that you are welcome to take with you.”
The three children gratefully took this suggestion, excused themselves, and bolted out the door. And who could blame them with such a wonderful place to explore?
––––––––
On the third day, Sir Dorrian began implementing the schedules he had talked about, although there was a lot of irregularity to his definition of “schedule” and “education”. Part of this involved what he called “survival skills”. These included building fires and cooking meals. None of them had had any training in these areas, but they learned quickly through necessity. They did fairly well when he showed them how to cook breakfast; they were finally made to do dishes. It was the cooking over open fires that they struggled with more. Their first few tries ended up in burnt messes but improved quickly after they were forced to eat the charred mess-ups. Building fires came easily to them.
While they were staying with Sir Dorrian, they would also learn to take care of the goats. They learned to milk the goats and to make their own cheese and butter. When Sir Dorrian needed to slaughter one of the goats for them to have meat to eat, he had them help to tan the hide of the goat and learn how to make leather.
There was training with weapons for all of them, not just Walter. The girls were both pleased and thrilled when Sir Dorrian invited them over to learn some basic swordplay. Walter’s training here was a little more in depth, but Sir Dorrian did insist on the girls knowing some basics. Then there was archery for everyone. They had been trained often in this, but their instructors at home had not been nearly so demanding or creative. One morning, Sir Dorrian called them out for archery practice, but there were no bows ready. Sir Dorrian had them go hunting through the woods for just the right wood in order to make their own temporary bows. He taught them how to make arrows for themselves, and how to properly care for their bows should their bowstrings get wet. One of his favorite things to do was to put out an assortment of random blunt weapons, let them pick one, and have them duel each other. After watching their initial approach or tactic, he would step in and give instruction as to how that particular weapon was used, its strengths and weaknesses, as well as advice as to what would have been a better choice of weapon from that particular selection.
He taught them navigation and how to use a map, how to build shelter, and what kinds of plants in the woods were edible and which were poisonous. There were endurance hikes to locations outside of Sir Dorrian’s land, where they had to carry progressively heavier loads while they walked progressively longer distances. Some of these hikes even took place at night, where they had to learn to navigate by the stars. And when they returned, they would gather round a campfire beneath the stars and drink cider while hearing Sir Dorrian tell epic tales of his adventures and hunting expeditions. They themselves learned to hunt, skin, and butcher.
As unusual as this education was for the girls at least, let alone for princesses, it was the same education that any squire would have been receiving in King Conrad’s court. This was just Sir Dorrian’s method of training. Airdella, although enjoying it immensely, asked him what use a princess would have with these skills.
“My dear, if there is one thing I have learned in my adventures,” Sir Dorrian answered, “it is that a lady needs to be able to defend herself. The world is a dangerous and ever-changing place. You never know what fortune the winds may blow your way. Trust me, there is little more terrifying to a man than a self-sufficient and capable woman.”
These trainings happened regardless of weather conditions. Walter was surprised the first rainy day after their arrival when Sir Dorrian called him out for sword training.
“What, have you never trained in the rain?” Sir Dorrian asked.
“No,” Walter admitted, almost reluctantly.
Dorrian muttered something about going soft. “Why when I was a young squire, knights would be out jousting during thunderstorms! The defense of Arualia against the Uprising of the Southern March didn’t happen because knights were afraid of a little rain, I can tell you that! We were camping in mud that was ankle deep during a storm that didn’t stop for seven days, whilst stones from the enemy’s catapults landed amongst us. And when our rations ran out, we continued on to scale their stone walls in the rain at night. They don’t make them like that anymore,” he sighed wistfully. Then he turned his eyes back to Walter. “Hence the reason to train in all weather. You know not what the battlefield will bring you, or under what circumstances you will be called to defend your country.”
Walter would have loved to hear more about the Uprising of the Southern March. But Sir Dorrian was holding out his sword, and Walter did not dare to say no.
The other part of their “education” was a little more traditional. The moment they walked into the study upstairs, they were captivated. A room filled from top to bottom with books, scrolls, desks, and rich carpets. Any bare wall space was covered with maps; maps of Arualia, maps of the city state of Chalef on the eastern coast, maps of the isle Caprika and the Sunrim Ocean, and maps of countries to the south and west of Arualia. Even a detailed map of Dorrian’s own land. It smelled of ink, old books, and freshly sharped pencils. It held such an air of mystery, with adventure and knowledge on every page; it made you want to know things, to question, to wonder. Many a day, especially those with bad weather, was spent exploring the shelves of knowledge in perfect contentedness.
Here, they read literature, translated works from the Olden Tongue to Arualian, debated history, performed science experiments, and solved mathematical puzzles. Sir Dorrian’s method of teaching was quite different from any of their former tutors and far more relaxed. They spent more time sprawled out on the floor than at the desks. All the subjects were jumbled together rather than being strictly delineated. They would seize on a particular topic and study it in depth for weeks if any of them were interested. Amy’s reading skills increased dramatically as she was reading the same materials as Walter and Airdella.
They had never enjoyed being “educated” quite as much as during that summer. There were plenty of hikes they were allowed to go on of their own volition, to places they wanted to go, and many picnic lunches carried to the creek, or the cave in the woods. Days turned into weeks, and the weeks into months. And while they missed their father terribly, they almost forgot to investigate the reasons for why they were sent away. What was there to miss back home that could compare to anything at Dorrian’s Cottage?