I apologize once again for the long wait! I hope to be able to update more frequently than I have been.

Many miles from the city of Camelot, in one of the most remote and poor corners of the kingdom lay the little village of Hyton. It consisted of half a dozen farmers, a blacksmith's forge, and one old church that was in dire need of repair. Most of the inhabitants of Hyton were either under eighteen or over sixty years old.

The oldest, and the poorest, of these was Hilda. A woman had had the good fortune to reach the ancient age of one hundred and five. By the time of Prince Arthur's death, Hilda was lame, as well as blind, but neither of these handicaps prevented her from having a good heart and a talkative tongue. She had once been a mother and a grandmother, aye and a great-grandmother too, many times over, but sadly the only family she had left living was her great-granddaughter Martha and her son Percy.

Martha was a widow in her late thirties and Percy was a good natured boy of twelve, both of them dotted on Hilda and saw that she wanted for nothing, which was easier said then done. They had only a few cows and a small crop, that provided them with so little income, that if it weren't for the generosity of their neighbors, of whom it must be said were almost as poor as they, the three of them would have starved to death.

It was a stormy night the night that their lives changed. The sun had long since set, yet none of them could sleep with the wind howling on high. Percy tossed and turned restlessly on his little bed, which more a bundle of cloths laid on the floor then an actual bed. Finally, he could not take it anymore. "I'm going to check on the cows." he announced getting up and making his way to the door.

"Do be careful!" his mother said, frettingly. Percy assured her that he would and went outside. The rain was pouring and coming down in such gusts, that he was instantly soaked and he could barely see where he was going.

He kept his hand on the wall of the cottage for guidance. He had just assured himself that cows were safe and sound, when he thought he saw a shape. He blinked, but it was still there. Slowly, it got closer and before long Percy could make out the figure of a man without a cloak.

As soon he realized that that it was what he was seeing, the man stumbled and did not get up. "Mother!" he shouted, but soon realized she wouldn't be able to hear him over the wind and the rain. He ran back to the cottage, and rushed inside. "Mother! Come quick there's a man outside and he fell and didn't get up!"

Martha didn't hesitate. She threw a shawl around her shoulders and followed her son outside. It took the two of them a few minutes to find the man, but once they did, they didn't waste any more time getting him inside.

"Who is it?"asked Hilda as soon as they were inside. "Don't know, Granny." answered Percy. "I think he's a stranger."

"And we wouldn't know if we don't get him dry." added Martha. "Percy, get a fire going. Quickly! I think this poor man must be chilled to the done. Who knows how long he's been out there?"

In a few minutes there was a nice fire going in the small fire place and Martha had managed to get the man into some dry clothes, he had gained conscientiousness off and on during this time, but he seemed quite delirious.

"Poor man." said Martha, talking to nobody in particular. "He looks so pale and thin! And so young! He hasn't had a decent meal in days, I should think."

They gently moved him onto Percy's "bed" and the boy slept that night with his mother. It was sometime before any of them fell asleep. Perhaps it was by some strange chance, or maybe contriving of a higher being, but for some reason or other, what both mother and son had failed to notice was the ring that the young man wore. The ring that bore the symbol of the Pendragons.

I know it's short, but I hope you enjoyed it anyway! BTW, better get used to Martha, Percy, and Hilda. They will have an important part to play. Anyway, please review!