The morning broke overcast and damp. Clark was glad for it. It meant rain was almost certain to fall. They were desperately in need of some rain. He only hoped it would hold off long enough for both he and his father to complete their errands in town. They needed to sell as much of their wares as they possibly could, so that they could buy the few things they needed. So, in an effort to get to the market all the sooner, Clark flew through his morning chores.
Then they were off, their rickety old cart hitched to a roan stallion named Merlin. Jonathan rode on the cart's single seat, while Clark led the horse on foot. He didn't mind the walk. There were some truly beautiful views along the way and, though the way was long, it was far less tiresome than his usual work around the farm. Halfway into town, the clouds sent down a cooling drizzle that lasted only a few short minutes before stopping again. It was a tease, but it made Clark feel hopeful that more was to come.
It turned out to be a good day at the market. Clark and his father managed to sell all of their wares relatively quickly. Of course, the money they earned was swiftly spent again, buying the things they needed. While Jonathan haggled over prices, Clark took to selling the figurines he'd carved. In that too, luck was smiling down on him. Of the dozen little animals he'd brought with him, three sold in the first few minutes. Two more went shortly after - the butcher traded them half a deer for the two little wooden foxes to give to his children. Clark was more than happy to make the trade. The deer would provide them with some much needed variety in their diet, and would bolster their overall meat stores. It lifted a little weight from Clark's shoulders that they might be able to put away enough food to comfortably get through winter.
He traded another for a new pair of boots - the ones he was wearing were almost falling apart. He was just glad that Jonathan's boots were still somewhat new and had a lot of life left in them. It seemed like those six figurines would be the only ones to sell. For a long stretch of time, he couldn't find any other buyers. Then, suddenly a group of young nobles - younger even than him - wandered past his cart. They seemed to take a fancy in his remaining carvings and four of them sold. After they left with their newest novelty items, Clark mentally kicked himself. He'd allowed them to talk down his price to half of what he'd hoped to get. It was just that he and his father needed any money they could earn, and the young men and women had seemed ready to move on if he didn't allow them to negotiate the price.
"Ready to call it a day, Dad?" he asked as Jonathan approached the cart, an armful of packages clutched tightly to him.
"Almost," Jonathan replied, as Clark helped him load everything into the cart. "How'd you do with your animals?"
"Pretty well. I've only got two of them left."
"And I see you were able to make a few trades," his father said, eying the meat in the cart and the new boots. "Good work. What is that," he asked, pointing to the wrapped meat, "venison?"
Clark nodded. "Half of a young buck."
"Well done! That will go a long way this winter." He clapped his son on the shoulder in an approving manner.
"I hope so," Clark said, glancing up at the sky. There had been no further rain that day, and the sun had actually peeked through the clouds a few times, though the clouds had always rolled right back in.
"I have to speak to Lana at the bakery," Jonathan said, "then we can go back home." He paused and gave his son a mischievous look. "Unless, of course, you want to be the one to get some bread."
Clark shook his head. "That's okay, Dad. I'll stay with the cart."
"Come on, Clark. Lana is crazy about you."
"That's exactly why I don't want to see her."
"Clark, you're twenty years old now. It's time to start thinking about settling down, don't you think?"
Again, he shook his head. "I can't. I have nothing to offer a perspective wife. Or the ability to provide for any future children."
"Son, I want you to be happy. And cared for. I won't be around forever, you know."
"Please, Dad. I don't want to think about that. Not now," Clark pleaded.
Thinking about his father's mortality was too depressing a subject, especially now that Jonathan was all Clark had left. It also brought back painful memories of losing his mother. He missed her terribly. It was an ache in his heart that he didn't think would ever truly heal.
Jonathan chuckled a little and patted his son on the shoulder again. "Okay, have it your way. If Lana asks for you, I'll tell her I don't know you."
That made Clark laugh. He shook his head and waved his father on. "Go on. The clouds are getting blacker. I think we might actually get a little bit more rain."
"Okay. Okay. I'm going."
Jonathan gave him one last look, then turned and headed off in the direction of the bakery where Lana and her family worked. Clark leaned against the cart for a moment, then pushed away from it again. Merlin was getting anxious, perhaps smelling a storm brewing. Clark went to the horse and gently stroked his head, murmuring soothing words to the animal. The horse finally quieted after a few minutes. That's when Clark heard it.
The voice of an angel.
He instinctively turned toward the sound.
"You're really great with him," the woman said.
"Milady," Clark responded in a daze. He bowed slightly. "Thank you."
The woman before him had to be an angel, he told himself. For only an angel could be as beautiful as the young noblewoman who stood before him. Slender and pale, she was radiant. Next to her, Clark felt like a muddy, half-starved pig. He fought down a blush of embarrassment as he took in every detail. The long, dark hair. The brown, warm eyes. The commanding way she held her body. The slight smile playing at her lips. The musical quality to her voice.
Next to her stood a younger woman who bore a striking resemblance to the angel who'd graced Clark's life with her voice. He figured the younger woman had to be a sister, or at least a close cousin. He bowed to the other woman for good measure, greeting her in turn.
"Is there something I can help you with?" Clark found himself saying, before he was even aware he was speaking. He only hoped she wouldn't find him to be speaking out of turn. There was no telling when a noble might take offence to a peasant speaking directly to them.
"Actually, there might be," the angel said. "My sister, Lucy, and I saw another young woman with a carved wooden swan a few minutes ago. She said that she bought it from a man standing in front of the dressmaker's shop."
Clark nodded. "That man would be me, milady."
"Do you have any carvings left?"
"Only two, milady." He stepped away from Merlin and to the cart. He reached in the back and pulled out his remaining figurines - a bear standing on his hind legs and the hawk he'd finished the night before. "These are my last two animals...for the time being."
"May I take a closer look?" asked the angel.
"Of course, milady," Clark said, gently handing the woman the wooden animals.
"Do you like either of these?" she asked the woman Clark now knew to be named Lucy. "If not, we can keep looking for a birthday gift for you."
Lucy shook her head. "No need. The bear is adorable."
"Are you sure that's what you want?" probed the older of the two.
Lucy nodded. "Yes. I've never seen anything quite like this. It's exactly the kind of unique thing I was looking for, Lois."
The angel - Lois - nodded in turn. "Okay." She handed Clark back the hawk. "How much for the bear?"
"Five," Clark said in a soft voice, for some reason feeling like he shouldn't be so bold as to ask for payment from this woman, even if it was below what he would normally ask. He cleared his throat. "Five coppers. If it pleases you," he amended.
Lois frowned. "It's worth more than that." She reached into the purse she carried at her waist. "Here." She pressed a silver piece into his hand.
"Milady," Clark gasped. "I cannot accept this much."
Lois gave him a smile. "You can and you will. Don't sell your work so short."
"Thank you," Clark replied, thoroughly humbled.
"Do you make these often?" Lois asked, as though it was a sudden thought.
He dipped his head in a shallow nod. "As often as I can."
"Good. The world could use a little more beauty in it. Especially in Lord Luthor's lands."
"Thank you," he said again.
"Come on, Lois," Lucy insisted, getting impatient. "We still need to speak with the dressmaker."
Lois rolled her eyes. "Okay, Lucy. Don't get overexcited. I'm coming." Then, to Clark, "Thank you again for the bear."
She turned to leave. Without thinking about his actions, Clark stepped forward and reached out to her. He remembered himself and stopped just in time.
"Wait, milady!" he called after her instead.
Lois turned, and Clark could see a hardness in her eyes at having been interrupted.
"Yes?" she asked.
"I...uh...here." He held out the hawk to her. "Take this."
"I'm not interested in buying another animal right now." Her tone was guarded and annoyed.
Clark shook his head. "No, you misunderstand me, milady. He's a gift, for you." He stretched out the hand with the carving a little further. "Take him. I want you to have him."
"Why?" Suspicion rang in her voice.
That was a good question, he had to admit. Why was he just giving away his carving to this woman? He suspected that he knew the answer, though he didn't want to admit it. A noblewoman like Lois would never choose a dirt poor farm boy as someone to love. Still, his heart knew that he was doomed - he was already falling under her spell.
He tried to shrug it off, as though it wasn't a big deal. "He's the last one I have right now. I'd hate to bring him back home with me. Besides, he deserves to be with someone who can fully appreciate his beauty."
"And you think that's me." Her eyebrow was arched in playful suspicion now.
Clark nodded. "Of course. You already called that bird beautiful," he pointed out.
Lois let one precious laugh escape her. It was a sound that cut straight to Clark's heart.
"I guess I did. Well, if you insist..."
"I do," he urged, placing the bird in her hand, now that he was certain it would be welcomed.
"Then I'm honored to have him," Lois said with a smile.
"The honor is mine, milady," Clark replied with a bow.
"Thank you," she returned. "And good afternoon to you."
"And you, milady."
"Lois! Come on," Lucy called from the dressmaker's door.
Lois huffed and turned to her. "Coming!"
"Wow," Clark breathed to himself as he watched her go. "Wasn't she something?" he asked the horse.
"Mind your thoughts, son," Jonathan said, coming up behind Clark and scaring him somewhat.
"Dad!" Clark chuckled as he tried to calm his now-racing heart.
"Don't get your hopes up about her. She's a noblewoman," Jonathan warned.
"How...how much did you see?"
"Enough," Jonathan replied softly. "Enough to see that you're taken with her."
"She's radiant, isn't she?" Clark asked, aware of how dreamily his words came out.
His father nodded. "Absolutely. But..."
"I know," Clark cut in, waving off his father's rebuttal. He patted the horse to settle him as Jonathan walked around to the cart. "She's a noblewoman and I have nothing to offer her. Still...there was something about her. We didn't speak long but I feel like...like I'm...I don't know. Drawn to her."
"Ah, young lust," Jonathan teased him as he put the bread in the cart with the rest of their items.
"I don't know, Dad. I've never felt this way about anyone before in my entire life."
"Your young life," Jonathan reminded him.
"Hey!" Clark shot back playfully. "Weren't you the one just telling me how I'm getting older and how I should start thinking about the future?"
His father laughed as he climbed into the seat. "Fair enough. Now, come on. Let's get back home. If we hurry, I can cook up a little of the venison you earned us for dinner."
"My mouth is already watering, Dad," Clark replied as he began to lead Merlin back home.
***
That night, as Clark cleaned up after a filling meal of venison, carrots, and potatoes, the sky lit up with flashes of lightning. Thunder boomed so loudly it shook their little farmhouse. Rain poured down in buckets, relieving some of Clark's anxieties about their half-dead crops, and their failing well. He ducked out to check on their animals, but found he needn't have worried. While the horses were a little nervous, they easily calmed in his presence. Still, he stayed with them for a while, idly working on a new batch of animal carvings. He knew that it was only sheer luck that he'd sold all the pieces he'd brought with him to market that day. But Lois' approval and appreciation of his work rang in his mind, over and over.
Don't, Clark, he told himself. Don't fall for her. You don't stand a chance. She's a noble. You're not worthy to clean the dust from her shoes.
It was too late, he knew. Her gentleness and beauty had captured his heart.
"She was wonderful, wasn't she, Merlin?" he asked the horse as he brushed the stallion's roan colored coat. Merlin snorted, as though he was answering. "I have to forget her. But...how?"
How indeed? Clark knew, somehow, that she was a person he would never be able to forget, no matter how much time passed. She'd made too big of an impression on him, even though she'd only spoken with him for a few, all too short, minutes. He wondered about her, even now. Did she like the hawk he'd given her? Had she already forgotten about the lowly peasant she'd purchased a wooden bear from for her sister?
"She probably has," he muttered sadly to himself. "Why would she remember me at all? It's not like I'm a lord or in any way remarkable."
"I wouldn't say that, son," Jonathan said softly, startling Clark out of his thoughts.
"Dad! What are you doing out here?"
Jonathan smiled. "Sorry. Didn't mean to scare you. I'm just not ready to go to bed yet."
Clark shook his head. "I was just lost in my own thoughts."
"Thinking about that girl, huh?"
"I can't help it."
"Clark..."
"I know, Dad. I know. Try to forget her."
A pained look crossed Jonathan's features. "I know it's hard, Clark. The look on your face when you talk about her..."
"Lois."
"Lois," Jonathan amended with a slight nod. "It's the same look I know I had on my face when I first met your mother."
"First met?" Clark asked with a wry smile. "You still have that look, Dad. I can always tell when you're thinking about her."
Jonathan chuckled a little. "I suppose that's true, isn't it?"
"It's just not fair," Clark continued. "I don't stand a chance...all because I wasn't born with a silver spoon in my mouth." He tried not to show the bitterness he felt, but knew it coated his words anyway. "It's hopeless and I'm...I feel worthless."
"You are far from worthless," Jonathan softly admonished him. "You are my son and the greatest gift I've ever received in all my years on this Earth."
"Dad..."
Jonathan put up a hand and shook his head. He dripped his way over to where Clark was standing and sat down on the rickety old stool they used for milking the cows. "Listen to me, son. You're the best man that I know. Someday, you'll make some woman very happy. You'll have children of your own that will look up to you and see you as a hero. And, I believe, somehow, you'll make an unmistakable mark on the world."
"Nice dream, Dad." He leaned against the wall and folded his arms over his chest. "But that's all it is. I'm grateful for my life, really, and for you and mom being my parents. But, let's face it, I have nothing to offer the world. I have no power, no money, no influence. I was born anonymous and poor, and that's how I'll die, unless some kind of miracle happens. And I'm okay with that...or would be, if I hadn't met Lois today."
"So, what are you going to do about it?"
"What do you mean? There's nothing I can do to change things. It would be like...like rearranging the stars. Fun to dream about maybe, but impossible to do. We can barely afford the few necessities we need. If not for this rain and the hope it offers for our crops, we'd probably starve to death this coming winter."
"Clark, you know me. I always tell it like it is. I've never told anyone anything I didn't mean. Right?"
"Right," Clark replied after a second of hesitation, while he tried to figure out where his father was going with this.
"You know I don't sugar-coat important things. I'm not trying to make you feel better when I say that I believe you'll find a way to better yourself...to make a better life than as a farmer who is barely scraping by."
"Okay," Clark conceded, just to make his father happy. "I'll try."
"Good boy. Now, how are the animals?"
"Good." He didn't mind letting his father change the subject. If anything, it was a much-needed respite. "They're perfect. And the storm is already moving on. I've been listening to the thunder. It's getting further away, though I think the rain will last through the night."
"Let's hope so. We can use all the water we can get."
"Maybe things will finally start turning around for us."
***
"Lois? Lois? Are you in there? Open up!"
Incessant knocking accompanied Lucy's persistent voice. Lois looked up from the book she was reading. She blinked rapidly, trying to focus on the world around her, and to dispel the lingering mental images of faraway lands where dragons ruled the skies and unicorns befriended timid maidens. She closed the book with a sigh. Reaching to one side, she deposited the book on the table beside her bed.
"It's open," she called out.
The door opened silently on its hinges. Lucy peeked her head in first, then smiled when she saw Lois. She entered the room and gently closed the door behind her. Crossing the room quickly, she perched herself at the foot of Lois' bed.
"We need to talk," she said before Lois could speak.
"Okay," Lois said, suspicion dragging out the word for her. "About what?"
"You've been moping all day long. Except for when you were talking to that peasant today. You know, the one who sold you my bear. What's going on?"
Lois sighed. She hadn't wanted to say anything until she knew exactly what was going to happen with Lord Luthor. But, she also didn't want to lie to her sister.
"Okay," she said after a moment, her voice hushed. "I'll tell you. But you can't say anything, okay? I don't know if Mother and Father want you to know yet."
Lucy's face blossomed into concern. "What? You know you can tell me anything."
"I know," Lois said with a nod. "The thing is...you know how Father was telling us how Lord Tempos' men have been raiding villages? And how the neighboring lands have been having trouble turning back his army?"
"Yes..."
"Well, what Father didn't say was that the latest is that Tempos' army overtook Lord Daniel's. Tempos has claimed those lands as his own. Father is afraid that our lands might be next."
"What? No!" Lucy exclaimed in horror.
"Ssh!" Lois hushed her, waving her arms in a 'lower your voice' manner. "Quiet!"
"Sorry!" Lucy whispered. "What are we going to do?"
"Father thinks we should join forces with Lex Luthor. And he wants me to be the bait to lure Luthor in."
"Bait...?"
Lois nodded again. "Word is that Luthor is looking to remarry. Father thinks I might be..." She paused a moment, searching for the right word. "Desirable to Luthor."
"But all the things we've heard about him? He's as bad as Tempos, from the rumors I've heard."
"I've heard the same."
"So, what did you tell Father?"
Lois hung her head. "I agreed to at least meet with Luthor, if and when he decides to help us or not. I didn't see much choice. I can't condemn our people to slavery or death if there's something I can do to give us a chance to defeat Tempos."
"Lois, you can't!"
"It's already done, Lucy." Lois suddenly felt very tired, as though just the thought of Lex Luthor had sapped her energy. "I hate it, but it's done."
"Well...maybe Luthor won't want to make you his wife," Lucy said after a moment, her tone suggesting that she was at a loss for words, but looking to somehow lighten the mood.
"Maybe," Lois said, forcing herself to smile. She took Lucy's hands in her own for good measure. "So..." she began, looking to change the subject.
"So..." Lucy repeated in the same tone of voice. "What was with you and that peasant today?"
"What do you mean?"
"I saw the way you were talking to him. Seemed like you were...kind of interested in him?"
"The carver?" Lois asked, trying to brush off Lucy's observation. "Hardly."
"Oh, come on. I saw how much you paid him for the bear," Lucy replied with a roll of her eyes.
"So? That doesn't mean anything. I paid him what I thought the bear was worth."
"Right. And the hawk?"
"What about it?" Lois asked, throwing a glance over to the wood bird, who'd taken up residence on the bedside table. "It was a gift, nothing more."
"Right. Just a gift from a - and I'll admit it for you - handsome young man. After you overpaid for the bear. Did you even see the way he was looking at you?" Lucy asked, incredulously.
"Yes, I saw," Lois admitted in a soft whisper. "But it doesn't matter. He lives in his world. I live in mine. I'm probably going to wind up as Luthor's latest conquest. That peasant today? He's nothing more than a very talented carver and a polite young man. And even if I'm not forced to marry Luthor, I'll never see him again. So why would I bother thinking much about him?"
To Be Continued...
