| Before Time Page 8 |
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| Music : Coming Around Again |
| The young man worked hard loading the cart, used every fiber in his being to finish this most wonderful of tasks. He'd been up ''fore the cock crowed. He'd always been an early riser, of late he hadnae slept well. he missed her so. |
| The wagon was finally loaded. It didnae have everything he wanted to bring. He could do so on another trip.for now, he had what he felt necessary. |
| He smiled, stifled a yawn whilst rubbin the horse's muzzle. He gave her carrots, rested his brow on her for a second and whispered '' A treat valiant lady.. and then a bit more work ' |
| Bowman fairly flung himself into the driver bench. He gave a quick glance at the cart, made sure the load was secure and flicked the reins gently. |
| Meanwhile, back at the weaver cottage, Maire was a worry. Where was he ? When will he be back ? Will he be back ? |
| The Weaver woman would drouse a bit, even in the cool damp. Each time she woke, she looked at her daughter. At the sad look of frettin to her face.. ' Maire' she finally whispered tenderly ' Come sit near yer mothair, we'll keep each other warm ' Maire swiftly came to her. She wouldnae have her mothair have the chill, no matter her own low feelings. ' Better now Mothair? ' she said as she sat and tucked her legs beneath her The mother, a woman of as much gentility as the daughter. ran her hands through Maire's hair and caressed her head. She spoke tenderly, confidently, 'Donnae fret Maire, will make ye old before yer time. He's coming back girl, he's comin back ' |
| It was nae long after that, though to Maire it seemed eons , they heard the sounds of his approach. Maire was somewhat puzzled. He had left on foot. Surely it was a horse she was hearing. |
| They heard his voice outside the threshold. ' Maight I come in then? ' 'Aye ' said the mothair and then a divilish pause ' Mind ye wipe yer boots ' Bowman looked down quickly .. and responded to their happy laughter with his own mirthful sound. |
| Bowman entered the hut with a joy that belied his tiredness. His arms were laden withn some of ther things he had brought He gave a quick if somewhat clumsy bow, and walked to the hearth. He was hopeful there would be some coals still aglow. Luckilly the barest of embers were snapping. He set down the kettle he was toting and prepared to liven the fire with the armful of kindling he brought in. |
| As the fire began to respond, He set the covered kettle over it. The contents were still warm as it was the last item he had laded, but he wanted to maintain the heat |
| He turned to go back for more, but the women stopped him. 'It doesnae have ta be unloaded at once. Bowman. Cannae ye sit and rest a bit ? ' Bowman was bone tired and considered it for a minute or so. He nodded in assent He let out a long slow breath before he spoke. Let me bring in a few more things, and we'll sit tagether fer a spell, just like the gentry' He went out, and was soon back with a parcel containing bread, cheese and a few other items. He brought them in and put them on the table. The two were still huddled on the bedding, but were already taking in the heat from the fire. |
| He couldnae help a smile, such a simple thing ta bring such comfort to these two, |
| Maire couldnae take her eyes off him. And she couldnae help worryin if he had overtaxed himself for one night. She understood more clearly now, why he had been absent so long when remaking the ' manor ' house. He would do nothing 'half way' ... nothing. |
| Mothair spoke mirthfully. 'Are we servin a banquet then, Bowman ? ' |
| Bowman tore his eyes from Maire ...and having felt his 'ground' answered in a like mood. Aye Mum, ye niver know how many of yer suitors maight be comin ta the door. T'would be rude nae ta invite 'em fer some ham and bread. ' There was a long silence... and then laughter errupted in the hovel, which somehow, magically seemed a castle now. |
| . Off went the mighty horse. She didnae seem ta strain at the pull, he was glad he kept the load lighter than he wished. ' Aye, I'll speak ta Carter on the morrow about keepin the cart another few days ' |