He hadn't finished smoking it, as he had been interrupted, albeit, not so rudely as he let her think.Sitting down in his chair he looped his legs over...the arm so that he was looking out the door of the cabin. He re-lit the familiar old pipe, gazing quietly out the door as the aromatic smoke filled the cabin and beyond, calming him. The sight of the naked girl hanging from the roof of his porch pleased him. He had dreamed of doing this with the others he had brought up here but had never done it. Mostly because she'd been there. The pictures of huge codpieces on Kings, Dukes ... even knights were products of artists staying alive. So too were massive chests and well turned calves. Noses were shrunk and chins grew.Paintings of wives and children were more the product of imagination than the real thing. Sometimes the beauty of a child was found in the model found on the hillside tending the sheep ... sure ... the tender and the Duke's son had the same father but the son ... he was. More

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