Destiny and Chicken

Lady Vivian didn't know she had been enchanted, and she knew nothing of the kind of love that could save her. King Olaf's impetuous daughter was destined for adventure.

“What on earth is Lady Vivian doing in the chicken yard?” asked Sir Peter, as he entered the knights’ barracks.

“She’s trying to catch a chicken!” replied one of the squires crowded around the windows. “She’s been at it for half an hour!” The young men were doubling over with laughter.

“I can’t believe it,” Sir Peter said. “Is she unwell?”

“She seemed well enough today,” young Michael said, “I heard her shouting at her maid, as she usually does, this morning while I lit the fires in the keep. But maid Bridget says Lady Vivian went to the kitchen and asked Cook to teach her to make roasted chicken, and Cook said she must learn to catch a chicken if ever she was to learn to cook one, and the Lady has been chasing chickens ever since.”  


Sir Peter shook his head in bewilderment. “I can scarcely believe my eyes.” The chicken yard was the last place on earth he would expect to find the imperious Lady Vivian.

“Ever since she got back from Camelot, they say she’s been off her head,” young Jonathan laughed. “Maid Isabel says she spends more time sitting at her window sighing and weeping than ever she did before, but nobody minds because she forgets to find fault with all the servants, and complains far less about their work. And you know how Lady Vivian complains!”

Sir Peter had indeed heard Lady Vivian complain. He had received more than one tongue lashing from her, as had all of the youngest knights in her father’s service. Anyone unlucky enough to be assigned to escort her on an outing or even to be seated near her at court could expect nothing less than an earful of insults. Lady Vivian was by far the haughtiest, naughtiest, loveliest young lady Sir Peter had ever encountered.

James, the youngest of the squires, stopped laughing long enough to add, “They say she fell in love while she was away, and that her beau has a fondness for chicken.” His statement was met with even more guffaws of laughter.

“Gentlemen,” said Sir Peter to the lads, “Let us be courteous to the lady. Are you without work this morning? I’m certain we can find use for you in the forge if your chores are too light.” The boys grumbled and moved toward the door. “And men,” he cautioned, “unless you have business with Cook, I’ll expect you to stay out of the kitchen.”
After the boys had departed, Sir Peter strode quietly into the chicken yard. Lady Vivian, her golden hair shining in the sunlight, turned and regarded him with a glance of obvious distain. He found himself again baffled by the dichotomy of her perfectly adorable pert nose, which wrinkled in an expression of utter peevishness.

“Might I be of use to you, Lady Vivian?” he asked politely.

“That depends,” she said tartly. “What do you consider useful?” Sir Peter did not answer. Instead, he deftly scooped up the nearest hen and held it aloft by its’ feet. “How did you do that?” she asked with grudging fascination. “You must show me how you did that.”

“Yes, milady,” he said. He set the chicken back on the grass and quickly scooped up another by its’ feet. “When you take them by the feet, they don’t struggle so while you hold them, and they can’t so easily peck at you.”

“Ah, that’s how to do it,” she said. She hesitated a moment, then reached out, snatched a red hen, and let out a little squeal of surprise. “I’ve done it!” she said, laughing and shuddering at the same time. “Now open the gate for me, Sir…”

“Sir Peter, milady.”

“…Sir Peter. Cook says I must bring the chicken back alive. Apparently, I must learn to kill it a particular way, so the meat will be at it’s best.” She squealed again as the bird flapped its’ wings.

“Yes, milady.” He opened the gate with a smile that she did not notice, and allowed her to pass through, shutting it behind her.

* * * * *

Three weeks after Sir Peter taught Lady Vivian how to catch chickens, he found himself standing at attention in her father’s council chamber.

“Sir Peter,” King Olaf began, “you have been recommended to me by your superiors as a capable and responsible man.”

“Thank you, milord.”

“I hope their assessment of you is correct, because I am about to give you an assignment of utmost importance.” Suddenly, the king stepped menacingly near Sir Peter, and growled loudly into his ear. “I love my daughter. Her safety is of the utmost importance to me.” King Olaf turned and took a few steps away. “I have decided to allow her to visit the court of Lord Godwin and a few of the larger towns along the way. She has taken it into her head to collect recipes, or some such nonsense. I don’t like to let the girl out of my sight, but I think this time it is a good idea.” He turned again to stand nose to nose with Sir Peter. “You, sir, will be responsible for protecting her at all times, while she is travelling. Do not fail me, or I promise you will regret the day you were born.”

Sir Peter remained appropriately still, and King Olaf paced as he continued speaking. “Vivian has been behaving strangely since we returned from Camelot, pining over that Pendragon boy, and I hardly know her. Lord Godwin has a daughter her age, and I think the company will be good for her. I think it best to do it now, while it is still midsummer. There will not be a better time for such travelling.”

The king turned again to face him. “Do not accept this assignment lightly. It will not be easy. I expect you to keep her out of trouble. She has a knack for trouble – she attracts it, like flies to horses. She’s too pretty for her own good, she’s too young to have an ounce of wisdom in her head, and she has a tongue that could fell an oak tree. You must be completely vigilant. Hear me, Sir Peter,” At this the King roughly grabbed him by the tunic and drew their faces uncomfortably close together, “If I learn that she has done anything foolish, or that anyone has so much as touched her, I’ll hold you personally responsible. Do you understand?”

“Yes sire. I understand, sir.”

“Good.” The king walked to his chair and sat down. “You will leave on Friday. I have instructed Sir William to help you prepare for the journey – you will report to him tomorrow morning. You are dismissed.”

Sir Peter turned on his heel and walked swiftly out of the room.

* * * * *

On the first day of their travels, Lady Vivian found ample occasion to loudly berate Sir Peter and both of the guards selected to accompany them. All were relieved when evening fell, supper was over, and Lady Vivian had finally retired to her tent. Jared and Elfred were both good men, but Sir Peter could see that their tempers had been tested as throughout the day as they labored to bite their tongues. He quietly commended each of them, then dismissed them to rest while he took the first watch by the fire.

Not long after he grew accustomed to the sound of his snoring men, the knight became aware of another, quieter sound. It emanated from Vivian’s tent. He listened carefully and soon realized that the girl must be weeping, although she seemed to be making an effort to do so quietly. He was suddenly befuddled by it. And the longer he sat listening, the more he wished he could think of some way to comfort her.

After a little while, Lady Vivian quieted. Sir Peter remained in his place for a long time, silently watching and staring into the fire.

* * * * *

By late afternoon of their second day on the road, Lady Vivian suddenly sneezed, then began shouting at Elfred for turning up too much dust. It was her seventh major tirade of the day. When she had finished, Sir Peter could see that Elfred was nearly at his wits end. He ordered both guards to ride swiftly ahead five miles and get camp set up before they arrived. Jared and Elfred both nodded with silent expressions of relief and immediately rode out.

“Marvelous. Now they’re turning up twice as much dust. I shall be covered in it by the time we reach camp,” Lady Vivian remarked tartly.

Sir Peter rode up beside her, took the reigns from her hands, and stopped both horses. “Lady Vivian,” he said firmly, “I would ask you to treat my men with more respect. Your behavior toward them is inappropriate.”

“How dare you speak to me in this way, sir? My father ordered you to protect me, not give lectures. I shall say what I like. You certainly shan’t stop me.”

Sir Peter tightened his grip on her reigns, leaned a little closer, and spoke even more firmly. “You are right, milady. I will ensure your safety at all costs. The men who ride with us are your security. If you make them your enemies, it will compromise your safety. I will not let this happen.”

Lady Vivian furiously tugged her reigns out of Sir Peter’s hands. “If you think I’ll allow you to badger me, you are more of an idiot that I had expected! My father will hear of this, you boorish imbecile.” And with that, she ordered her horse to walk ahead.

Sir Peter said no more, and travelled on.

That evening as they camped, Lady Vivian shot angry looks at Sir Peter and berated him hotly at every opportunity. He did his best not to smile as he noticed that in her fury toward him, she seemed to have forgotten to abuse the other men. When at last she went to bed, all relished the blessed quiet.

Sir Peter again took the first watch. Again he heard the girls’ secret tears. Again, he sat helplessly watching the fire long after she gave in to sleep.

* * * * *

During breakfast, the travelers met with a welcome surprise. A knight, dressed in Camelot red, strode into their camp, leading a beautiful brown horse. Sir Peter immediately jumped up laughing and ran to embrace him. “Leon! What are you doing here? Well met!” He called to the men, who with relief removed their hands from their sword hilts. “Jared, Elfred, this is Sir Leon of Camelot! Here, let me introduce you…” Sir Peter walked Sir Leon over to the cooking fire where Vivian sat. “Lady Vivian, may I present to you Sir Leon of Camelot?” Leon respectfully bowed. “This is Lady Vivian, daughter of King Olaf.” Lady Vivian stood and curtseyed prettily.

“Lady Vivian and I have met, though she may not remember me,” said Sir Leon. “She was a guest at Camelot, not long ago.”

“What news do you bring from Camelot, sir?” Vivian’s eyes were as bright as torches. “How is my dear Arthur?”

“There is much news at Camelot, though little of it is good, I fear. The castle suffered an enchantment, during which the King’s ward, Lady Morgana, was abducted. Soon thereafter, we were attacked by an enormous dragon and we suffered many losses before we were able to defeat it. Now King Uther has ordered me to visit King Alined, to find out if anything has been heard there of Morgana, though it is unlikely. We suspect she has gone north, and Arthur has taken half of the army into the northern territories to search for her. “

“That is terrible news indeed,” said Sir Peter. “Come, will you sit and have breakfast?”

“I’d be grateful,” said Sir Leon. He sat down across from Vivian. Sir Peter passed him a bowl of bread, cheese and dried meat, and then excused himself to check on Leon’s horse. The silence was a bit awkward until Sir Leon hesitatingly spoke. “I’m honored to see you, milady. I hope you have been enjoying your trip.”

“It’s been terribly dull, so far, Sir Leon. But I am happy to see anyone from Camelot. I’m sorry to hear of your troubles.” She hesitated. “Tell me, does Arthur care a great deal for Lady Morgana, then?”

“Yes milady,” Sir Leon said gently, “I believe he does. I doubt he’ll return to Camelot until he finds out what has become of her.”

Vivian’s face was a study in conflicting emotions, and Sir Leon carefully changed the subject. “What do you think of my old friend Peter?”

“If you want my honest opinion, I find him hopelessly dull and excruciatingly rude. I suffer his company with difficulty, I fear.”

Sir Leon looked at the girl for a long moment, then said quietly, “Lady, I ask you to have patience with Peter. Don’t judge him too harshly. Fortune has not been kind to him.”

Vivian looked at Sir Leon with surprise. She stopped herself from speaking the retort that sprang into her mind, and instead said with a smile, “That will prove difficult! But I will try, for your sake.”

“You have my gratitude, lady. He is the best of men."

Vivian played at throwing blades of grass into the fire while Leon ate his breakfast. At last she said, “Sir Leon, if you see Prince Arthur, will you give him a message for me? Will you tell him that I remember him fondly, and that I wish him well?”

“It will be my honor, lady,” he said.

“Oh! And tell him that I’m learning to cook! Will you tell him that too?”

“Certainly,” he said with a smile.

Sir Leon rode with them for a few hours that morning, then bid farewell when they reached the western crossroad. All of them were sorry to part with him. Lady Vivian had managed to keep her tongue civil throughout his entire visit.

* * * * *


That evening as Sir Peter sat uncomfortably watching and listening by the fire, he looked up, as if to plead with heaven for a way to stop Lady Vivian’s tears. There was a sudden flash, and instantly Sir Peter had the idea he needed. He stepped to the door of her tent. “Lady Vivian,” he said quietly, “are you by chance awake?”

“What? What is it, Sir Peter?”

“Milady, tonight the stars are falling. Have you ever seen a falling star? They often do so on late summer nights. Would you like to come and see?”

She did not answer, and Sir Peter shrugged and returned to the fire. But a few moments later the girl emerged, wrapped up in a fur blanket, and joined him by the flames. Neither of them spoke for a long while. They sat watching the skies. “Oh!” she quietly squealed, “I saw one! Did you see that?”

“I did.”

“Oh, another! They’re so fast!”

Sir Peter laughed, quietly enjoying her delight. “They say,” he told her, “that if you speak a wish under a falling star, it will be granted.”

Vivian seemed to think seriously about that. Finally she said softly, “I wish to be with my true love. But I know he is lost to me, and I do not think I can bear it.”

Sir Peter did not know how to answer. “I too have whispered that wish,” he said, “even when I knew it was impossible.”

Their eyes met. “And what happened after?” she pleaded.

Sir Peter thought for a sad moment. “I grew strong enough to bear it.”

They spoke no more, but watched the sky for a long time. Then, at last, she bid him goodnight.


* * * * *

The following day the company rode into the town of Estlynn. They visited the home of the thane of Estlynn, a kindly gentleman with an even more kindly wife, who spent the afternoon introducing Vivian around the town, helping the girl to collect recipes. That evening they shared a pleasant supper with their host, slept comfortably in his house, and took to the road the following morning feeling utterly refreshed.

Lady Vivian’s habit of scolding the men was in fine form that day. She became infuriated with Jared for making the cooking fire smoke in her direction. She chastised Elfred for allowing her horse to eat too much brown grass. And she berated Sir Peter for allowing her to sit too close to a hill of ants. The men were all equally grateful when night finally fell and the sour Lady Vivian retired.

That night Sir Peter was ready for the weeping, and when it began he acted swiftly. “Milady, if you are still awake, the sky is very bright tonight. You are welcome to sit by the fire.” He was glad, a few moments later, when she accepted his invitation and sat beside him.

She said nothing, but stared long into the flames. At length he asked, “Do you know how to find the North Star?” She did not. He spent the next hour teaching her what he knew about the constellations. She listened with interest and tried to see the shapes he described in the heavens.

The next night, and every night thereafter, without further invitation Lady Vivian returned to sit with Sir Peter by the fire. He no longer heard her weep, which brought him a degree of relief.

They visited three other towns, successfully collecting recipes. The girl kept them all tucked in a sheaf of papers in her shoulder bag. He seldom saw her without it, and often she could be seen studying the pages with a look of keenest interest on her face.

Lady Vivian’s shrewish daytime demeanor changed little toward the men. More than once, Sir Peter found it necessary to remind her that such behavior would not be tolerated. And after each such episode, her eyes blazed with fury at him. At night by the fire she was always pensive and quiet, and Sir Peter wondered ruefully how one girl could have two such different faces.

It was in those starlit evening hours that Sir Peter learned that Vivian’s beau was King Uther’s son, Arthur. He learned that the prince had a fondness for food, especially chicken, which had inspired her to learn the culinary arts. Vivian confided that her father had agreed with King Uther that the two should not be together. She recalled happening to meet Arthur in the corridor of Camelot castle on the morning before she had departed. The prince had gently explained that duty required him to obey his father. “I wish you well,” Arthur had awkwardly told her. “It would be good if you would try to forget… what happened here. I’m sorry.” The prince had not lingered, but instead strode rather hastily away as she wept. Under these circumstances, Vivian could not find much reason to hope for a speedy reunion. She wretchedly wondered if she would ever see him again.

One night Vivian asked, “How did you come to know Sir Leon?”

“About six years ago we spent a summer together. We were both much younger then (nineteen, I think). We were still squires, actually, and we had both been sent to help secure one of the northern borders for King Olaf. There wasn’t really much securing to do, but we had a lot of fun camping and hunting. There was a little village there, where we made many friends. That was where I met…” He stopped himself.

Lady Vivian watched him. She sensed his sudden change in mood. After a moment she said, “You met someone there?”

“I did.” He said no more.

“You met a lady?” she asked intuitively.

“Yes,” he said, looking into the fire. “My wife.”

After a moment he noticed the concern on Vivian’s face and gave her a little smile. “She was a sweet girl. Her name was Mary. We were together for just over a year. I still miss her. I think I always will.”

“I’m sorry,” said Vivian. He could tell she meant it.


* * * * *

It was on their visit to the fourth town that something truly significant happened.
Vivian had been told that a woman employed at a local inn was an exceptional cook. It was mid-afternoon, and Sir Peter instructed Jared and Elfred to make camp just outside of town, while he accompanied Lady Vivian to the inn. The town seemed rather run-down and unpleasant looking as they passed through, but it wasn’t until they had entered the inn that Sir Peter realized they had ventured into a potentially dangerous place.

The room they had entered was clearly a grungy tavern, and as Sir Peter looked around, he did not like the faces he found staring at them. To be more specific, he did not like the faces he found staring at Lady Vivian. He immediately put his arm securely around her shoulders and pulled her close to his side. She was clearly shocked as he bent his head to nuzzle her ear. “Forgive me, Lady,” he whispered. “This is a dangerous place. You must pretend to be my wife.”

Lady Vivian looked at him with wide eyes. He nuzzled her again as he seated her at a table near the door. “We can’t just turn and leave, or they’ll assume we’re afraid and follow us out. We’ll have a drink, and when the moment it right we’ll slip away.”

The innkeeper approached them.

“Evening,” said Sir Peter quietly. “We just stopped in for some quick refreshment. Some wine, perhaps?”

The innkeeper retreated to the kitchen. Sir Peter eyed seven filthy-looking men seated near the fireplace. Their laughter was loud, and he could tell they had been drinking for most of the afternoon. He was glad, as it would make them easier to defeat if it came to a fight. But he hoped it would not come to that.

The innkeeper returned with two mugs of wine, and Sir Peter dismissed him with a coin. “You don’t have to drink it,” he whispered into Vivian’s hair. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” she said, trying to fake a smile. He could feel her heart pounding fast beneath her ribs.

“A toast to the couple in the corner!” shouted one of the men at the fireplace. “Are you newlyweds?” Another of them muttered something, and the rest of them laughed raucously.

“That we are, and I thank you,” Sir Peter replied with a smile, and he calmly sipped his wine.

The men laughed again and wandered uncomfortably close to their table. “You lucky devil! She’s a beautiful lass. How did an ugly bloke like you win an angel like this?”

“Winning her was the easy part,” boasted Sir Peter with a wink. “It was her father who put up the fight.” They all laughed heartily at that. Even Lady Vivian’s demure smile seemed genuine, but she wisely kept her eyes lowered and stayed tightly tucked against his side.

“Let’s toast the happy couple!” shouted the bald man who was clearly their leader. “Good health to this lucky skate and the unlucky bride who’ll have to put up with him!”

The men cheered and drank heartily. “Kiss the bride!” they began to shout. “Kiss the bride!”

Sir Peter smiled gamely. He bent toward Vivian and met her eyes. She nodded shyly. And with that, he kissed her as soundly and thoroughly as any self-respecting, love-struck, hot-blooded newlywed husband ever kissed his new wife.

The tavern erupted with cheers. Sir Peter stood up, pulling Vivian with him, a wicked smile on his face. “Well, gentlemen, it has been a pleasure. And now I think I’ll go home with my wife.” The men howled with laughter and shouted bawdy blessings on the couple as they disappeared out the door into the twilight.

Sir Peter had been about to help Vivian onto her horse, but stopped and grew concerned as she swayed and clutched him for balance. “What am I doing?” she asked, searching his eyes, a look of confusion on her face.

“Vivian, are you alright?”

“What… am I doing?” she asked again.

Perhaps the girl was fainting. He held her securely. “You’ve had a bit of a scare, but you’ve come to no harm. Still, we must not stay in this place.”

Vivian did not move. Sir Peter lifted her onto her horse and climbed up behind her. With one arm around her waist and the other leading his own horse, he quickly got them beyond the town.

* * * * *


“I do not want to go to Lord Godwin’s -- I want to go home!” shrieked Lady Vivian. “It is your duty to obey me!”

Sir Peter was not impressed. “My duty is to follow your father’s instructions. He told me to take you to Godwin’s, and that is what you’ll see me do.”

It was the morning after the tavern incident. Everyone was packed and ready to ride, but Lady Vivian was refusing to get on her horse.

“I won’t go! You can’t make me!”

Sir Peter did not answer. Instead, he seized the girl, sat her on her horse, and climbed astride behind her. “This is becoming a habit,” he muttered good-naturedly, ignoring her protests. He motioned for Elfred to lead his horse. “Lady, we will be at Godwin’s by nightfall. Your cooperation is requested, but it is not necessary.” With that, he spurred the horse and they leaped forward.

For the rest of the day Lady Vivian sulked. Each time, after they stopped to rest, she again refused to mount her horse. Sir Peter was obliged to ride with her all day.

As the afternoon grew long, the girl wearily leaned back against Sir Peter’s torso and sighed, “This is completely unfair. I want to go home. Why won’t you take me home?”

“I already answered that for you,” he said quietly.

“I know,” she said.

“We’ll be at Godwin’s soon. You’ll be able to rest.”

“I want to rest at home.”

“You’ll learn lots of new recipes.”

“Yes. I suppose that’s the only thing I have to look forward to on this visit.”

“You’ll make new friends.”

“I doubt it. But I shall certainly have to put up with dreadful accomodations and scores of inept servants.”

Sir Peter didn’t speak for a moment. Then he said very softly, “Lady Vivian, you are a strong, capable, intelligent woman. You have many gifts and much to offer. It is unfortunate that because of your discourtesy, most people will never know this.”

“Discourtesy?”

He didn’t answer.

“You think of me as discourteous?”

“I do,” he said as gently as he could.

She sat very still. After a minute she suddenly pulled back on the reigns until the horse halted. In a small voice she said, “Sir Peter, your assistance will no longer be required. Please go and ride your own horse.”

“Yes, milady,” he said, and immediately slipped down to the ground. He looked up and tried to catch her eye, but she would not look at him. After a moment he walked obediently to his horse.

Thus, he rode a few lengths behind the silent girl, until at last they arrived at the fortress of Lord Godwin.

* * * * *

Princess Elena was certainly a pretty girl, but there was something unsettling about her. Sir Peter could not identify what it was that made her seem so awkward and unkempt. The girl’s countenance, though, bespoke a woman with a light and humble heart, and he found that he liked her. He wondered what Vivian thought of her.

Lady Vivian was impossible to read during their two-week stay at Godwin’s keep, but her behavior seemed impeccable. She was the picture of grace with Elena, no matter how awkward a situation became. Sir Peter had relatively few chances to see her, and no chance at all to speak with her. He was summoned whenever they went riding, which was almost every day, but at those times he stayed a respectable distance from the ladies, as did the other guards who rode with them. Most evenings he saw the ladies at dinner, but he was always seated across the hall from them. Vivian did look at him occasionally, but her face revealed nothing.

At last the two weeks were ended, and one fine, late-August morning Sir Peter, Elfred, Jared, the horses, and two mules stood packed and waiting in the courtyard. When Lady Vivian appeared, Princess Elena and Lord Godwin were with her. The girls hugged and laughed as they said goodbye. Lord Godwin shook Sir Peter’s hand and wished them all a good journey. Then Sir Peter wordlessly helped Lady Vivian onto her horse, and as she waved goodbye they rode out toward the open road.

* * * * *


Neither Sir Peter nor Lady Vivian spoke as they rode for the first few hours. When they stopped for lunch, all seemed to revert to the old routine, and conversation was typically limited and polite. The only huge exception was that Lady Vivian did not complain about anything. She did not launch into any tirades about dirt or bees or odors. To Jared and Elfred, the lady was quite pleasant. Sir Peter was quite certain that he heard her say the words “thank you” at least three times during the meal. He did his best not to seemed surprised.

Lady Vivian remained quietly sweet-tempered throughout the day and into the evening. As Sir Peter sat down by the fire for the first watch, he could not make his mind stop wondering about the girl. He found himself an a bit of agony as the evening grew quiet.

“Sir Peter?” Vivian stepped hesitatingly out of her tent. He stood and turned to see her. “May I join you by the fire?”

“Yes, milady.”

She approached and sat down beside him. He sat down and looked at her. She looked into the fire. He followed her eyes and studied the flames with her for a long while.

“I haven’t dreamed about …Camelot… in over two weeks. That’s a good sign, isn’t it?”

Sir Peter did not answer.

“Elena is a sweet girl. I’m glad I got to meet her. She confuses me, but I really like her.”

He remained quiet.

“Sir Peter, I talked it over with Elena, and she said that there is something I need to tell you, and I think she is right. …What you said to me about how I treat people -- I didn’t like hearing it. It …hurt. But I want to thank you for having the decency to say it. “

Sir Peter looked at her face and then back at the fire, but he did not answer.

She laughed. “I don’t know if I will ever really be able to control my tongue, but I want you to know I am working on it.” She stood up. “Thank you. That is all. Goodnight.”

* * * * *

The journey home was a direct one. It took only four days. Lady Vivian, with a few minor exceptions, behaved rather well. Elfred and Jared wondered what had happened to the girl. They were shocked to find that they even enjoyed her sharp sense of humor from time to time.

Vivian did not join Sir Peter at the watch fire after that first night. He knew he missed her, and lamented the fact that he felt that way. On the final night the stars fell again, but he did not wake her. He sat alone, thinking about wishes.

When they arrived home, Sir Peter insisted on taking Lady Vivian directly to her father. King Olaf was in his usual place in the council chamber.

“Sire, I return to you your daughter,” was all he needed to say. Vivian ran to her father, and Sir Peter sympathized completely with mighty Olaf as he watched her melt the King’s heart.

* * * * *

Three days later, Sir Peter was alone in the barracks, studying a batch of newly made maps. There was a knock at the door. “Who is it?” he asked as he leafed through the pages.

“It is destiny,” laughed a voice. It was Vivian. He ran to the door and opened it. She stood smiling with a silver platter covered with food in her hands. “Destiny and chicken!”

Sir Peter laughed. “What is this?”

“I was thinking of you, and I wanted you to taste the fruits of your labors, so to speak. This is one of the recipes I collected. It’s a good one, …although we may have missed out on the best one. Perhaps we should have gone back to that nasty tavern and tried again to find that elusive woman…”

“Not on your life!” said Sir Peter, still laughing.

“And about that tavern,” she said wickedly, “I haven’t told my father about that little adventure. I’m saving it for if I ever get really angry with you again. He’d probably kill you with his bare hands.”

“There is little hope for me then, is there?” he asked, smiling down at her.

She met his gaze with a smile of her own. “Absolutely none whatsoever.”


THE END