Chapter 3 - Death and Rebirth

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."

Chapter 2 - The Changing of Seasons

It had been two years since Thomas had earned his scar. Thomas and his father worked long days in the fields while his sister and mother tended to things inside their home. His sister had just turned nine and their parents had received word that she would be accepted into a school. This was a big deal because Matilda would be taken to the other side of the forest which was a long journey, even by wagon. Thomas had only been there a few times with his father to take up food stocks demanded by the sheriff's people in lieu of taxes. The Redgrave farm was on the border of the sheriff's control and thus being, his soldiers were often patrolling as border guard. The constant presence meant that the Redgrave farm wasn't out of site or out of mind when it came time for taxes.

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.

Chapter 1 - The Bear and the Wolf

Solomon Redgrave reminded his son to mind the sacks of oats they were bringing to Beltain. Thomas readjusted them as his sister played with the hem of her dress. She looked up at him and gave him raspberries. He shrugged it off and went back to minding the sacks. Muriel quietly watched her two children in the back of the wagon as her husband guided its horses.

"Mum, you think papa will let me play in this year's games?" Thomas asked with genuine hope.

"Oh now, Thomas," she started, "you're but eight. The games are tough."

"So's haulin' oats but papa says I'm old 'nuff for that."

Solomon turned slightly to face the wagon while still guiding the horses, "when you stop whining 'bout the oats, maybe you can play in the games."

Matilda looked up at her brother. He looked crushed and so she felt it was a perfect opportunity to do her part as little sister and she began silently mocking him. Thomas shifted in his seat and lay his head on the sacks. The wagon rocked and jolted making rest somewhat impossible. There was a sudden pinch in his leg and Thomas sat up, his sister still twisting at the bit of his flesh in her fingers.

He let out a holler and his mother turned as Matilda pulled her hand back. "What's the matter, Thomas?" Muriel asked.

He looked at his sister sternly then said, "a bug must've bit me."

"You mean this bug?" his mother asked before poking Matilda in the belly and tickling her.

Matilda let out a loud laugh and Thomas followed. He didn't hate his sister. To the contrary, he was a proud older brother. She had proven herself exceptionally smart and he knew that she wouldn't be a farmer like the rest of the family. He believed wonderful things would befall her. She was gifted musically as well and their father had been told that when she was old enough, she might be able to go to a nice school near the castle on the other side of the forest. Many people believed she would be a maiden to royalty, which was something of a blessing for her.

Their wagon drew up to where the festival was held annually. The clearing in the woods was large enough for a castle and there was already a bonfire and several smaller fires going with people cooking their goods and offering their wears. Thomas jumped from the back of the wagon and looked around before pulling down a sack of oats. His father had already told him of the people that were purchasing their oats that year. Some to be used at Beltain and some to be used in their taverns. For eight, Thomas was strong and had even bested some of his friends in fights. Fights which had gotten him doing his current duties.

"Matty, push that sack up to the edge," Thomas said to his sister.

"I'm not the oat hauler," she declared.

"Come on, Matty, just that one bag."

Matilda pushed the bag to the edge as Solomon and Muriel made their way over to one of the other wagons.

"Thanks, Matty," Thomas said.

Matilda hopped down from the wagon and ran over to where some other girls were playing. Her brother watched as she and the other girls danced and giggled. He made several trips to and from the wagon, delivering the oats.



About an hour had passed when Thomas' mother came over to him. "Have you seen your sister?" she asked.

Thomas sat up. He'd been resting from all the hard work. He looked over to where she had been playing and didn't see her. "I'll find her," he volunteered, "she's probably picking berries or something." He slid down from the wagon and walked over to the girls that his sister was playing with. They all stared into the woods. "Where's Matty?"

One little girl pointed into the woods and from within came a low growl. Thomas barely heard it over the sound of the music coming from the festival. He went to the edge of the woods and cocked his ear toward it and again, could hear a low growl as well as crying. Thomas sprang into a run and ran deep into the woods. If anything were to happen to her he would feel horrible. He worried less about what his parents would think about him as an older brother and more about the chance of losing his sister. Shortly he came to a slight drop and there, motionless, was his sister. She sobbed but didn't move. He jumped down next to her and told her it was okay then he heard another growl.

The bear was enormous and was baring its fangs. Her cubs were behind her drinking at a stream. Thomas couldn't tell if it was two or three but he knew that he had to get his sister out of there before the bear attacked. "Climb up the embankment, Matty!"

Matilda was frozen in fear, she didn't move. Thomas just thought about all the possibilities her life held and how he was destined to be another farmer. He picked up a stick in one hand and a rock in the other then moved between his sister and the bear keeping his back to his sister. "Matty, you have to climb up there and run."

From behind them came the voice of their mother, "Matilda! Where are you?" The sound of her mother's voice broke Matilda's paralysis and she turned and began climbing up the muddy wall using roots as hand holds.

Thomas stared up at the bear. He understood her need to protect her young and wondered if she understood he was doing the same. She looked past him at Matilda and began to growl again but Thomas wanted her attention on him and he chunked the rock at her snout. She had been ten feet away but she seemed to clear that in a single bound. Her paw caught him in the side of the head. She was too strong to defend against and Thomas flipped end over end, the left side of his face torn open and bleeding as he hit the soft earth.

Solomon appeared at the top of the mud wall and pulled his daughter up. He couldn't see where Thomas had landed. The bear continued its attack on the boy. Thomas turned and shoved the stick into the bears mouth as her paws smacked his little body. A rock hurled and hit her in the head and Solomon began making loud noises. He threw another stone and she recoiled toward the stream with her cubs. She let out a roar as her and her cubs fled. Thomas passed out.




When he awoke, he was in terrible pain. His face was bandaged as were his ribs. He could see out of his right eye that his mother sat next to his bed. "Is... Matty...," he started.

"She's fine," his mother said calmly as she leaned over him. "She's worried about you is all. How do you feel?"

"It hurts... a lot," Thomas didn't want to cry. He tried hard to be a big boy for his mom.

Muriel pulled the bandage aside and Thomas left eye opened. He had feared that he lost the use of it but it wasn't so, though it could barely open.

"The swelling is starting to go down," his mother reassured him.

He looked around the room. He was home.

"You've been asleep for a few days," she said.

The cottage had but one room and no one else was in it.

"You're dad took Matilda with him to get some more medicine for you," she said, "they should be back soon."

Thomas tried to sit up but he could feel his ribs grinding. His mother replaced the bandage. "Get some more rest," she said.




He fell asleep shortly. He dreamt of a red wolf. The wolf came and slept next to him and kept him warm. It licked his wounds and would circle him to ward off predators.




Thomas woke again to find his sister staring at him. "I'm sorry," she said.

"Matty, I'll be okay," Thomas said.

"They dared me to get a drink from the stream. I knew it was scary but they called me a chicken and then the bear was there but I didn't see her and then I wanted to pet the cubs...," Matilda was beginning to cry.

"You have to be more careful, Matty," Thomas scolded. "If I hadn't gone to find you..." He didn't want to think of the other outcome. Life without his sister would be just farm work and boring.

Solomon came over and pulled the bandages back. He rubbed a salve over all the wounds and let the air hit them. They burned. "What you did was stupid and crazy," his father said. "It was also brave and honorable." He kissed his son on the forehead. Solomon went back outside.

Matilda came over to the bedside and got real close to Thomas. She whispered, "they called you a little wolf."

"Who?" Thomas asked.

"Everyone."

A Short Forward

Man's need to be heard and respected has lead to many rebellions, revolutions and coups. During the Third Crusade, men, doing what they believed to be right, became legends that time refuses to forget. From Ivanhoe to Robin Hood, our legends are riddled with the downtroddened and their refusal to go silently into the night.

I thought about motives. What makes a man go from peace time pacifist to one that seeks revenge? What values and lifestyles would belong to someone who walks that line? Why does one man accept his lot in life while another fights for something more? I decided that some men and women are born wolves that wish to be sheep. They wish to have those precious little commodities like family and a day's hard work even though they are capable of legendary things.

The following tale is one wrought with angst and denial. To believe that you are something you aren't for the sake of having something that many would consider to be simple is both honorable and dangerous. Fate has a tendency to force those wolves into the light.

We can only hope that there are foxes nearby to help put things back in order.