Morning had brought a crisp day with a bright sun and a refreshing breeze. “Ye can ride in the valley,” said David. “But dinna go farther.” “Aye,” said Elyne absently, stepping onto the blocks to hoist herself up into the saddle. “Elyne.” Her brother’s voice was low with warning, catching Elyne’s attention. “Dinna leave the valley. We’ve heard the English are on the move. They still consider these lands part of England and will come for them someday, mark my words.” “I understand,” said Elyne. She wanted to take a ride, not make herself an English prisoner. She took the reins in one gloved hand, and on the other arm, her falcon perched quietly. Giving her horse a click, she urged her mount forward, out of the stables. It was a beautiful brisk day. Spring was in full bloom, and the flowers opened petals to smile back at the sun.
