The thyme was already warm when Caleb cut it.

  Sun had been beaming down on the garden since early morning. It baked the stone paths and drew out the verdant smell of crushed grass. Bees moved lazily between the flowers, heavy with pollen. Caleb knelt with one knee in the dirt, his blade angled just so, trimming back growth that had pushed past its place.

  The sound of hooves on stone reached him and he paused.

  Not because he meant to. His hand simply stopped.

  “Careful,” Elin said, still bent over the sage bed beside him. “You cut like that, you’ll tear the stem and it won’t grow back.”

  Caleb finished the cut, more clumsily than usual. The stem split unevenly.

  “I know,” he said.

  “You know,” she repeated, and straightened slowly, one hand pressed to her lower back. She was a small woman, but not a fragile one. Though the years of labor had exacted a toll on her body, she moved with an economy forged by habit. She glanced at him, the fine lines around her eyes creased from squinting in the sun, then followed his gaze toward the manor yard above the wall. “But knowing and doing are different things.”

  The three men stood next to their well kept horses. The air carried the sound of leather creaking, metal shifting, the low murmur of men who expected to be heard.

  “That’s him, the rider I was telling you about,” Caleb said.

  Elin brushed soil from her wiry hands and wiped them on her apron. “So it is.”

  “Look at him. He walks around like he owns every piece of land he steps on,” Caleb said.

  “Remember that, child. That’s how you know he’s trouble.”

  The riders mounted. The lead man settled into his saddle as if he’d never known another way of sitting. His horse stamped, eager, then stilled.

  Caleb watched.

  “Eyes back on your work,” Elin said, mild but firm.

  He obeyed, lowering his gaze to the bed between them. The thyme smelled stronger where he’d bruised it.

  The horses began to move. Hooves struck stone, then dirt. The sound faded as the riders took the road down past the orchards.

  Caleb stopped cutting again, and chanced a glance at the black retinue riding past.

  Elin clicked her tongue. “Caleb.”

  He sighed and resumed, more careful this time. “I wonder what it’s like? To go from one place to another, settling all sorts of lordly business. Eat all sorts of good food. To be able to ride on such a noble horse.”

  Without missing a beat, his mother grinned. “Yes. Well I’m sure all the riding chafes his ass awful.”

  Caleb couldn’t help but let out a snort. “Do you reckon it’s from the riding or the leathers?”

  She continued to press soil back around the roots, firm and practiced. “Man like that? I’d say he doesn’t need either to get that way.” The two of them, mother and son, couldn’t help but break from their work to share a hearty laugh.

  They set back into a rhythm and worked on the garden as the sun climbed higher in the clear autumn sky. It was a warm day. Not unusual for this time of year, but still warm when working outside. Sweat dappled Caleb’s collar. They finished the last bed of the section just before midday. Caleb wiped a bead of sweat from his brow. His hands smelled of green things and iron.

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  Elin stood, surveyed the rows, then nodded once. “That’ll do.”

  Elin took a basket from under the closest tree and met Caleb at the low wall nearby and sat against it. The stone was warm from the sun and eased the tension in Caleb’s back. Elin took a folded cloth from the basket and placed it on her lap, unfolding it.

  Bread. Apples. A wedge of cheese.

  Caleb shook his head. “Every day,” he said. “I don’t know why I expected different.”

  Elin tossed him an apple. “Yet every day you manage to eat.”

  “I know. I know. Thank you.” He smiled and took a bite out of the crunchy flesh.

  She gave him a look only a mother can. “Say it like you mean it.”

  “I do mean it,” he said, mouth full. “I just…you know.”

  “Use your words.”

  “I just wonder what it would be like to eat like a lord. What would Lord Alwin and his family be having right now? Some roe deer or suckling pig? Sometimes I can catch the smell of meat roasting from the manor. And here we are with…well–”

  “And what’s wrong with this?” Elin asked sharply.

  “Nothing! I like it well enough, true. But every day–”

  Elin didn’t wait for him to finish his thought. “As well you should. You know there are people out there that’d be grateful for a meal like this. Divines, there are people right here in Appleford that wouldn’t mind eating this for lunch every day, if they have a chance to eat lunch at all.”

  “I know Mum, I’m sorry.” Caleb replied before dejectedly breaking off a piece of cheese and putting it in his mouth.

  Elin sighed and her gaze softened. “The ducks will be fattening. You’ll be able to take an arrow to them soon enough. Then we can have some roast meat, too.”

  Caleb smiled at that. They ate in silence for a moment. The cheese was sharp, the apple crisp and tart.

  Caleb tore a piece of bread and held it in his hand. “Do you ever want more?”

  Elin took a bite of apple, chewed thoughtfully. “Sometimes.”

  “What kind of more?”

  She wiped her fingers on the cloth. “Less worry. A roof that doesn’t need thatching. A life where men don’t ride in and decide things.” She paused, “But it could be worse. We live on good land and have a fair lord that looks after us. Some years may be tougher than others but we’ve never gone hungry. Some bandits may pass in the woods but they’ve never stepped foot in Appleford.”

  He nodded. “I think about roads.”

  “I know you do.”

  “How?”

  “You may be bigger now but you’re still my son. A mother knows these things. Also you’re not as subtle as you think, boy.”

  Is that a bad thing? To want more?”

  “No,” she said gently. “It’s normal. A man your age should want more. Just don’t let wanting make you blind to what you have.”

  He looked at her. “What do I have?”

  She met his gaze. “So I’m not enough for you, eh?” she teased, ruffling his dark hair. “You have a mother that loves you, a good job, and a good town to call home. Hopefully in a few years time you’ll be starting a family of your own with some pretty girl. Maybe the forester’s daughter. She might make a fine wife, and keep you in check.”

  He flushed lightly. Daisy was cute, with her curly blonde hair, he couldn’t argue that. Then again, neither could most of the other boys in Appleford. He’d have plenty of competition.

  They finished eating. Elin folded the cloth and stood. “Go on, then.”

  Caleb looked at her questioningly.

  “We’ve done most of what we can for the day. Besides, unless you want more bread, cheese, and apples you’ll need to catch something for dinner. Mr. Barnes was kind enough to mention that the trout were biting yesterday. If you hurry you might catch us some.”

  “Do you think I can bring Tomas?”

  “Yes, if his father allows,” she said. “You might as well go to him before he comes here, shouting your name and making a nuisance of himself.”

  Caleb grinned. “I’ll be back before supper.”

  “I know,” she said. “And wash up. I don’t want any flour or dirt on my chairs.”

  He started off, then paused. “Mum?”

  She looked at him. “Yes.”

  He tried searching for better words, but he couldn’t think of any. Something simple would have to do. “Thank you,” he said.

  Elin smiled, tired but steady. “Of course, dear.”

  Caleb nodded and headed down toward the mill where Tomas’s voice already carried over the water, loud and careless and alive.