Chapter 3
The smooth feminine hand of the Gypsy Witch was shrouded in an ivory glow as she reached up and grasped a violet peora fruit in the early morning light. Bracelets of stones and colorful cord wrapped around her wrist and down her arm. She wore clothes that were earth toned, layered together in torn sections to make a flowing dress so beautiful, it seemed even the trees were envious of the way it shifted and flittered. Her hair was as dark as a raven, and although a few ends hung over her face and down her neck, it sat with a messy elegance, twisted with a crown of vines and dandelions high on her head.
The wind swiftly danced through the trees, playing with the frayed ends of her dress before rising up to twirl the stray bits of her hair.
"Spirit of the Wind, what burden of the world do you place on me this day?" She sighed softly, lifting both arms and closing her hazel eyes to listen to the childish laughter that was the wind.
"Come, sweet Witch!" the wind whispered into her ear. "The Knight of Darkness sits just beyond this hill, tired and worn from his travels and in need of your guidance."
"The Knight of Darkness...in my own wood!" She exclaimed with a gentle smile, her lips glistening in a fiery shade of amber. Picking up her woven basket brimming with fruits of every color, she balanced it on her hip and took off at a deer's pace, following the wind as it led her through the orchard.
She slowed as she approached him, bare feet gently padding the earth. He sat with his hands over his face, curling into himself in a crumpled heap on the edge of tears. She could barely believe how much he had grown, had it really been that long? She thought of the baby swaddled in furs as she carried him to his new home, of the thin boy with the fighting spirit she would steal time to see as he grew. She had lost track of him as he became a man, but there before her, she could see the resemblance. He was scared, damaged even, but he was still her Cedric.
"Come now, Knight. Rise to your feet. What makes your soul so weary and your woe so great?"
He startled at the sound of her voice, thinking for a moment the hounds and army had caught up to him. The woman before him wasn't particularly stunning, but she was tall and moved with a grace he could barely comprehend. He had seen the image of this woman a thousand times in paintings and sculptures all through Autumn Fall, but he was still shocked that she stood there in the flesh. His heartbeat quickened, and he sat there frozen before her free hand took his and weightlessly guided him to standing. They saw eye to eye, he in all his metal plate and chain becoming just a hair's breadth taller than she.
"Oh Witch, what isn't there to woe over?" he began, relieved to have someone he could explain his story to. "My Fairest Lady, source of all my desires, is a two-month ride from this spot. I have no steed which makes the trek even greater, and the king's army is on my tail to imprison me as we speak for even daring to run to her. I fear I will never have the chance to proclaim my affections to my Lady of Spring Meadows.
"And if I do not find a way, she will be betrothed to another before the time comes that I may be free and able to gaze upon her face once more."
His weary eyes stared into hers, the last glint of hope slipping away as the despair of his situation finally set in. But the Witch, her eyes shining with the glimmer and sparkle of all the stars of the night, smiled lightly as an idea came to her. Perhaps she could solve two problems, and Cedric would be just the man to do it.
"I know of a mighty steed that can get you to Spring Meadows within two fortnights. He is fast and as strong as they come, but I must travel with you to bring him home." The knight was speechless at her offer, but a great burden was visibly lifted from his soul.
"Come now," the Witch urged. "He lives not far from here." She turned and walked off without a backward glance. The knight scrambled to grab his helmet and took off after her, leaving all his doubts and inhibitions at the base of the tree.