It was on one of these trips to the castle that Solomon spoke to someone about his daughter. A friar had said that the castle often looked for suitable help among the farm and that he would look into it for him.
With the castle being so far, it would be impossible to visit Matilda often. The school also had strict rules about visiting. They could visit twice a year only. The news hurt Thomas worse than the bear. He knew his days would be longer without her constantly being there to make light of it all.
Solomon's father was read the documents that declared that on the first of July in the year of 1182, Matilda Redgrave would be collected and brought to the school where she would be given a chance at proving herself worthy of serving the royals and their charges. Solomon was both proud and saddened by the news.
"What if I don't wanna go?" Matilda asked.
"You don't wanna stay here and farm, Matty," Thomas told her, "you have a chance at something better. Something easier."
Muriel was adding the finishing touches on a new dress for Matilda, "you can't wear this until you get to school."
"I don't leave for a month and a half," Matilda said, "what if we all change our minds?"
Solomon picked his daughter up and held her, "your brother is right. You have a chance at something better. Take it. You're too smart to work the fields."
Over the next month, Thomas spent his time in the fields thinking about the benefits of his sister going off to school. First was the education, something that never happened out in this area. Solomon, as smart as he was, couldn't read and Thomas' own literacy was basic at best. He had learned how to read parcel orders for oats and the occasional sign post but he knew that reading wasn't something that was encouraged in the farm community. His sister's education would be stifled out here.
He also thought about the opportunities that might come her way. She would be surrounded by people that thought like her and therefore, more apt to fall in with something positive and constructive.
There was a stinging in his hands. Thomas looked down and saw fresh blisters from gripping the numerous tools of his trade. It would spare her pain like this, too.
The day came that a representative came to their home and gathered Matilda. He was dressed in upper wear and talked with a demeanor that Thomas thought seemed a bit rude. He didn't help with any of Matilda's things and seemed preoccupied with getting as far from here as possible.
Matilda began to tear up. The thought of leaving her family scared her. She didn't know much else.
"We'll see you in a couple of months," Thomas said to his sister as he wiped her tears away. "You'll make new friends and be a pest to someone else." He cracked a smile. "Just think, the food is going to be better."
Matilda laughed.
"There'll be less oats," Thomas said.
Matilda hugged her brother and he went back out to the fields to work. He watched her say goodbye to their parents and get into the carriage. He waved to her as the carriage made it's way down the road.
Thomas hated the feelings that were boiling up. As happy as he was that Matilda got away from here, he was jealous that he couldn't go with her. He sat in the field and sobbed. He punched the earth and cursed life for being unfair. He felt bad for having these feelings. He didn't understand how he could be happy for her and jealous at the same time. When he got up, he wiped his eyes.
"Thomas!" he heard his mother call. "Thomas!" her second call was more sing song than a yell. She did this often to embarrass him in front of his friends but this time it was for play only since he was in the field alone. He stuck his shovel in the dirt. He could finish clearing the tree stump later, he thought. His steps back to the cottage were long and he took the time to wipe the remnants of tears from his eyes.
When he entered the cottage his father was waiting with a bow and three blunt arrows. "It's time you learned how to hunt," his father said.
"What about the tree stump?" Thomas asked.
"It'll be there on the morrow."
The two stepped out into the mid day sun and strode into the nearby wood. "Why are we using blunt tips?" Thomas asked.
"Yeomen are allowed small game which can be killed with such arrows," his father said, "if'n you were ever caught with pointed arrows in the forest you could be imprisoned or put to death. Ne'er hunt big game."
"Not even bear?"
"Not even bear," Solomon answered.
Soon they came to a small hill made of soft earth. Solomon placed markers on the hill as targets. He showed young Thomas how to handle the bow and how to release the arrow. He taught him how to breathe and how to anticipate movement by having him shoot at small birds.
The lessons happened every other evening for a year. Thomas treated it like a game. His little mind turned the slightest movements into a series of "what ifs". What if the wind hits the leaf just so? What if the rain hits just so? What if the rabbit runs for cover? Which tree would it hide behind? How fast would it get there?
It wouldn't be until his twelfth lesson that Thomas hit a moving target but that first time proved to be the first of many. In time, Thomas learned to leave the cottage with but one arrow and return with a rabbit or two. His father was often impressed with his skill.
"You shoot like a devil," his father told him once on a hunt. "You pick a weak spot and a moment and you take it. I ne'er taught you that. If the sheriff's men saw how you shot, they'd want you in their army."
Thomas hated the thought of going and fighting in the war. He'd heard tales of men returning with scars worse than his or not returning at all.
Then came his first visit with his sister. The ride up was long. Thomas hated the rides to the castle before but this one had him burning with anticipation. He missed his sister dearly. The weather had gotten a bit wet and cool enough so that Solomon had to pull the hood up on his red cowl. Thomas watched his father and did the same. Muriel threw a blanket over them both from inside the wagon. She spent the trip up inside the wagon, resting and occasionally asking how much further. She'd never been to the castle.
When they got to the castle, Matilda was waiting. The people at the school had made her hair look so nice and her dress was so pretty.
"Thomas!" she said when she saw him climb off of the wagon. She walked up and hugged him.
"Where's the dress I made you?" Muriel asked.
Matilda bowed her head. "They made me throw out all the stuff I brought. I'm sorry mum."
Muriel looked sad but tried to hide it with a smile, "you look so pretty in what they've given you."
Matilda explained that much of the education was in customs and how to see to someone else's needs. She snuck books when she could but had to be careful because it was grounds for dismissal.
"There's a friar who lets me read his books and he's shown me how to read the big words and some of the stories are scary and some are about..." she realized she was beginning to ramble.
"Be careful, you don't want to jeopardize what you have here," Solomon said.
"The friar has shown me how to hide the books so that no one finds them."
They sat and chatted until the evening when they were told that visiting time was up. They could return in six months time for another visit.
Thomas hugged his sister tightly and whispered, "I miss you and I love you. I'm very proud of you." He thought the visit was too short.
She hugged him tightly back, "I love you too."
Thomas climbed back into the wagon as his sister went back into her school.
The wagon rode off back toward home. He looked down at the bow, he had wanted so much to show his sister how good of a shot he was and had forgotten. Maybe next time. Yeah, he'd be an even better shot then.
Thomas drifted off to sleep. He dreamt of the red wolf again. This time the wolf stood at his side as they both defended against a bear.
When he woke the sun was down and the wagon had been stopped. He could hear his father and mother quietly pleading with someone.
"We have nothing," his father said frantically.
"Let us see!" said a man with a gravelly voice.
Thomas eyes readjusted. He hadn't shot at night but he didn't care. He pulled the bow tight and waited. A shadow stepped in front of the opening to the wagon and Thomas released the arrow. There was a thud and then a choking noise. The arrow had hit the man's throat with such force that it broke his larynx. Two other men came to the back of the wagon to the aid of their friend and Thomas panicked, he had only brought the one arrow. He pulled his knife and jumped from the back of the wagon, plunging his blade deep into one man's chest. The man's screams filled the night air and Thomas pulled his knife then slashed it across the man's throat, shortening his death wail.
The other man tackled Thomas but he still had his knife and drove it deep into the man's lower back.
Solomon came around and pulled the man off of his son and struck him across the face. Thomas jumped up and helped his father subdue the third and last bandit. The struggle was quick and chaotic but the element of surprise had proven to be devastating.
Thomas began picking through the bandit's things when they were all dead and found two swords and a couple of silver pieces.
"What're you doing?" Solomon asked.
"I'm taking what probably isn't theirs."
When they got home Solomon scolded his son for being too brave. "You could have gotten us all killed!"
"They would have killed us to keep us quiet!"
"That may be true but..." Solomon knew it was, in fact, true. No one ever lives to tell about their run in with bandits.
"You aren't the wolf they say you are, Thomas," his father said. "You're a little boy."
"A little boy that killed three men," his mother intervened. "He did right, Solomon. Don't scold him for that."
Solomon stopped yelling and hugged his son. "You've made it a habit of being in the right place at the right time, Thomas. I hope that is always the case."
Solomon retired for the night. Thomas sat up that night thinking about what had happened. In the morning he went down to the stream and cleaned the blood off of himself.
He looked into the stream and saw a wolf staring back.
Comics, "Alan Moore", "Captain America", "Robin Hood", "Ivanhoe", "Green Arrow", "Kevin Smith", "Tarzan",
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