Frosty air bit the cheeks of Ren Sorril as he started his chores shoveling fresh hay into the barn to feed the cattle that huddled together in the corner hiding from the early morning breeze. They were not yet crowding him as he began his chores earlier than usual that morning. His younger sister was still in bed with a cold that had been spreading around the village this fall, so he had to pick up her regular morning routine. Luckily he didn’t have as many eggs to collect from the chickens as the colder weather and lack of daylight slowed their production.

“Lazy Chickens,” Ren said as he took the eggs from underneath them. Most of the chickens relented, but a few pecked at him as he attempted to collect their eggs. “Ow. You better quit that or you’ll end up in tonight's stew.” He could never understand why his sister adored the chickens so much. She was always walking around holding them.

Once Ren was done taking care of the animals he grabbed a spade and a large sack and headed out into the fields. It was late fall in Easthallow and this was the second frost they had received that morning which was a great time to harvest the sweet carrots they had planted a couple of months back. It was typically better to harvest the carrots in the afternoon, but without his sister's help, it would take him twice as long to finish the task. They were trying to get them ready for the merchant caravan that took the vegetables to the city for the market. Carrots were a great vegetable to harvest due to the short length of time it took for them to grow. They could usually get a couple of batches in before the winter became too harsh for them to grow. They also needed to plant the winter beans soon before the next frost arrived.

With a sack heavy full of carrots, Ren towed them back towards the house where he unloaded them into a small wagon he would use to take them into village common.

“Is that you dear?” a woman from a nearby barn said and came around the corner. Her dark brown hair was up in a small braid, and she had her milking apron on.

“Goodmorning Mother,” Ren said.

“Oh goodness look at ya, you look like you just finished wrestling with the pigs.” She set a container of milk down in the cart and patted the dirt off his shoulders with a handkerchief. “I need you to drop this milk off to Mr. Darrion for me on your way to the village, he'll be expecting it, and go’n wash up before you leave.”

“Yes mam,” Ren said. He grabbed some fresh water from the well and carried it inside. He dumped some of it in the wash basin and began to wipe some of the dirt from his hands and face away.

“Reny?” A girl from a nearby room called out to him.

Ren sighed. “You know I don’t like it when you call me that Lily.”

“Can you bring me some water please?” Lily asked with a pleading tone.

Ren finished washing up and brought her a cup of water. “Here ya go.”

“Thank you, Ren,” She said with a bright smile on her face. She was still in bed covered up with a blanket and a wet rag that lay on the side of her bed. “Did you take care of Eagle for me? Oh, and how’s Dot doing? She’s been rather thin lately. You fed her, didn’t you?”

“Yes, I fed the chickens, Lily,” He said. He lifted his hand to show her the marks. “Dot is fine, but Eagle is going to end up dinner if he doesn’t stop biting me.”

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“That’s because you probably forgot to bring her a small piece of an apple.” She said crossing her arms.

Ren ruffled her hair before standing up to leave. “I’ll try to remember that next time.”

Pine needles that hit the ground sounded like rain as wind rustled them from the trees along the path, squirrels and other animals could be heard off in the distance chattering and shuffling the leaves out of the way to dig holes to burry their winter spoils, but nothing was louder than the rusted wheel that squeaked on the wagon that Ren pulled up the path. He would have to oil that later.

Twisting vines grew along the fence of Mr. Darrion’s property that led to a small log cabin that looked hand-built. The vines grew up along the house almost as if helping to support the structure. Upon the deck sat an elderly man with short grey hair and stern eyebrows smoking a pipe. Ren wondered if he would look like he was always grumpy at that age. Contrary to his looks though, Mr. Darrion was a rather pleasant man who had been a friend of theirs for years.

“Mornin' Mr. Darrion.”

The old man rose out of his chair with a grunt. “Well, if it isn’t young master Sorril. It’s a pleasure seeing you this morning.”

“You can just call me Ren y’know.”

“And I’ve told you to call me Kane, and yet here we are using proper titles like noblemen.” Kane chuckled to himself. “And where are you off to today young lad?”

Ren stopped the wagon near the deck and held the milk out to Kane. “I was on my way into the village with these carrots and my mom wanted me to stop this milk by ya.”

“Oh how she does know that I love fresh milk. Great for soups and stews. Tell Melinda thank you for me. Would you be so kind as to put that on the slate for me? Kane said pointing inside the cabin.

“Sure thing,” Ren said.

“Oh, and while you’re here, I’ve been meaning to move my trunk, but I’m afraid it’s getting too heavy for these old bones.” Kane’s chair squeaked as he rocked out of it to usher Ren inside the house leading him to a large open wooden trunk at the foot of his bed. On the bed were old belts, clothes, knick knacks, and letters heaped together in a pile. “Excuse the mess. I tried to make it lighter, but unfortunately, it’s still a little too heavy for me to move.”

Ren couldn’t help but notice what appeared to be an old set of armor and sword hidden amongst the items on the bed. “Are those yours?” He asked pointing to the items.

Kane glanced toward the bed. “Why yes, everything in this house is mine in fact,” he smirked at Ren. “Though if you are inquiring about the weapon and armor, those are indeed from my younger years.”

“I didn’t know you used to be a soldier,” Ren said.

“Yes, That was a long time ago, back when Roulant was still king of course. Times were better then. Simpler. Now we have his brat of a nephew King Aldus breathing down our necks for gold to fill his pockets and buy the loyalty of the nobles. Pfft, loyalty. Roulant had real followers, not these tight britched high-nose waddlers that followed him around like hungry geese pecking at his pockets for food. Roulant filled the pockets of the kingdom. The farms were greener and plenty, and the people were happy. He even filled my pocket a time or too, but that was because he was a shit card player.”

Ren had moved the box while Kane had been talking.

“You knew King Roulant?” Ren exclaimed.

“Every soldier knew King Roulant. He would often slip from his personal guard to chat with us commoners. Anyway, I’m sure you have more important things to do than listen to an old man’s rambling. I appreciate your help.”

Ren nodded to Kane, who went back to smoking on the deck, as he started walking away dragging the cart that still had a rusted wheel squeaking while it turned.

“You should put some oil on that wheel kid,” Kane said.

Ren sighed. “I know.”