Days on the farm were long and dull. Excitement was limited to visits with Matilda and the hunt. Thomas loved the hunt. He didn't like the killing part so much as he liked the game of interpreting signals. His skill with the bow was something that brought him much pride but he kept it to himself. His father's fears about the sheriff's men discovering his ability made it so that Thomas hunted alone and usually late in the evening. He found that shooting in low light also gave him a good amount of exercise.
Some of the more religious men had gone off to fight in the Third Crusades. Thomas had befriended the neighbors well enough that he occasionally shared his kills with them. On those occasions he would say that both he and his father had been lucky and that it was better to share the luck than to waste meat. On some of these visits he had noticed one of the neighbors daughters. Her hair was red as Thomas' cowl and her freckles seemed to dance when she smiled.
It took him some time to formally introduce himself, usually only offering a bashful smile and stuttered hello. Finally, he got the nerve.
"Hello, I'm Thomas Redgrave," he announced to her.
"I know, silly, you've brought us rabbits now for a few months," she said. She seemed brilliant in his eyes. "I'm Mary Watkins. My brothers call you the Red Wolf."
This was the first time he'd heard this outside his home. Her brothers, Mathias and Joshua, stirred uneasily in their seats when she said it. Thomas figured that they feared he'd be mad.
"Defend your sister against one bear and people seem to give you supernatural abilities," Thomas joked. "It was just a bear and she was just protecting her cubs."
Mary didn't think so. She touched the side of his face, right on the scar. "I think it was amazing," Mary said. "Not so much the matter with the bear but that you defended your sister without thinking of yourself."
"She deserves more than to become bear poop," Thomas made light of the ordeal. In his head, killing three bandits was more impressive. This was something else that he had to keep to himself.
Mathias came up to look at the scar. "Did it hurt?" he asked.
Thomas gave him a sideways look. "More than you would think a bear smacking you across the face would," Thomas answered. "More so the next day."
Mary touched it again. "I think it makes you look quite handsome and rugged," she said.
Thomas blushed a bit. He pulled up the hood of his cowl and backed up. "I should be getting home," he said then he shook the rabbit he was carrying, "mum's gonna want this cleaned."
His walk home was filled with anxious thoughts. When he walked into his family's cottage, his father noticed his smile. "That's a good smile," said Solomon, "I bet she is smiling just as much."
"How'd you..." Thomas said puzzled.
Solomon took the rabbit from Thomas, "I was a boy once too, you know. I've seen you when you come back from the Watkins farm. You have a bit of a dance in your step."
Muriel took the rabbit from Solomon, "don't tease the boy, Solomon."
"I'd ne'er tease a boy in love," Solomon protested.
The rabbit was made into a stew of sorts. A lot of rabbit and a lot more oats. It was one of the best meals Thomas ever had.
That night he dreamt of the red wolf again. This time there was no bear. Thomas and the wolf sat on a hill staring at the moon. Then the wolf turned to him and said, "dark days are ahead. We better rest up and prepare for them."
Six years after that night with the bandits, Thomas lost his father. A terrible epidemic spread through the village brought back by soldiers in the Third Crusade. It wiped out a half of the population leaving many farms abandoned and others under manned. On his deathbed, Solomon had proclaimed, "I'm proud of you, Thomas. You've made the most of what you got. Someday, others will be proud of you too. It's a long road son, travel it well."
Soon after burying his father, Thomas worked out a deal with the Watkins farm and the other farm closest to him to help spread the work labor. With it just being him and his mother, there were many nights spent on other farms. Many nights she was left alone with her thoughts.
"You have your father's hair," she told him one day when he came in from the fields. "Just the right touch of red and wavy. He'd be proud of what you're accomplishing."
"It feels like it's too little."
"It's ne'er too little. The other men look up to you. They look at you like you're their leader," she wanted him to feel appreciated.
"I've been meaning to talk to you about something, mum. It's about a girl."
Thomas' constant comings and goings to the other farms made him more sociable. Mary was always there when he had farm business or the occasional extra rabbit. She liked him and made it apparent by being ever present when he came by.
"A girl?" his mother said with half a smile. "It's the Watkins' oldest, isn't it? She's a pretty young lass."
"Yeah, Mary is," he said, slightly blushing. "I love her."
"I bet you do."
"I mean it," he declared, "I mean to have her hand."
Muriel smiled. "Will you be moving in with her?"
"I'd like to move her in here," he said looking at the floor. He felt like he was asking permission.
"We could use the company."
"Also, if we put our farms together, re dug the grounds. I could move her family's place closer and we could cut back on work by having a smaller farm with them together," he'd been thinking about it a long time. Much of what they produced had gone to waste and if they pooled their resources even tighter, they might be able to start growing the village again. Loxley had seen better days as a village but Thomas didn't give up on it.
"It would be hard work building a new cottage," she said. Not that she was completely against the idea but she wanted him to really think it through.
"It might be easier to add on to our own. Make it a two room."
"Next, you'll want a fancy room where you can have a private chamber pot," she said with a laugh.
"That's not a bad idea," he smiled as he looked at the chamber pot on the far wall.
A season came and went and the additions were done. The Watkins moved in and both families became as one. Thomas and Mary were married by the local vicar and Thomas had a silver ring made from the silver he took off of the bandits so long ago. Mary asked him where he had gotten so much silver.
"I found some coins that someone had hid in an old tree stump I pulled out of the field," he said. He hated lying to her. He hated that he couldn't just tell her, "when I was ten, I killed three bad men and looted their corpses." She believed his ruse and wore the ring. What was left over in silver was used as payment to the smith.
Thomas and the Watkins boys made short work of the farm now and had plenty of time to help the Townsends with their farm. The divisions of labor also allowed for some down time which led to another type of addition.
William Redgrave was born in the third year of the alliance. His hair was red as a fox and when Thomas looked into his eyes he thought he could see that little fox staring back. Mary Redgrave coddled him much like Muriel coddled Thomas when he was a child. He often tugged on Mary's own red hair and his laugh was known to break the rest of the room into a smile.
By the time he was four, he was showing that he was very keen for his age. Again, Thomas thought that the little fox was there. He imagined a red wolf and fox hunting bears. The fox being sly, would lure the bear in and the wolf being vicious, would pounce. Will and Mary made living in the cottage something wonderful for Thomas.
At six, Will was helping Thomas on the farm. One day, Will asked his father, "what was grampa like?"
Thomas was a bit surprised. He hadn't talked much about his father in a long time because it made his heart sink to do so. "He was a big man. Strong as an ox," Thomas continued, "he saved me from the bear. No one ever called him a wolf for it, though. I think they expected him to be able to take on a bear."
"Could he?" Will asked. His face expressed a wonderful awe.
"If anyone could take a bear with but his hands, it would have been your grampa," Thomas shook off a bad thought. He had sometimes secretly felt that his father was a coward. "He wasn't a violent man, though. He never told me but I know that he feared what he could do if pushed too far. He loved Matty and me and I'm sure he looks down and has much praise and love for you." He rubbed Will's head. "Let's finish this row and take a break inside."
Thomas used visits to see his sister as chronological markers. Midway between Beltain and Samhain was one visit and midway between Samhain and Beltain was another. This made the years pass quickly since he was either preparing for one of the festivals or to see Matilda.
During one such visit, Will showed a natural ability for reading. Matilda smuggled some books to him when she could. The friar that helped her believed that knowledge should be shared. That consolidation of knowledge led to it corrupting those that had it.
"He's a wise one," she said to Thomas and Mary about Will.
"He gets it from his father," Mary said.
"He gets his strength from his father," Muriel said. "I've seen him toss around sacks of oats like they were empty."
"He's smarter than me," Thomas said with a smile. He was proud of that fact.
"Thomas, you just never applied yourself in that way," Matilda said.
"I was too busy saving you from bears, Matty," he retorted with a giggle. "Can't read books while a bear's mauling you." He highlighted the bear's mauling by tickling Will.
As they all had their laughs, another maiden came out to fetch Matilda. "Marian, you're needed in the lady's chambers."
"Coming," Matilda responded. She turned to her brother, knowing what he was going to say next.
"Marian?" Thomas asked. "Your name is Matilda."
"The lady doesn't think Maid Matilda sounds proper enough," Matilda answered. "Besides, you call me Matty."
"Yeah, I do," Thomas said with a smile, "Maid Matty. I guess we should be off."
Matilda gave them all a hug and went into the castle. Thomas loaded everyone back up into the wagon and set out on the long trek back through the forest.
"Papa, when can we see aunt Matty again?" Will asked.
"Not soon enough."
Comics, "Alan Moore", "Captain America", "Robin Hood", "Ivanhoe", "Green Arrow", "Kevin Smith", "Tarzan",
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