The teenage lad worked in the garden of his aunt's, dirt and mud caked his gaunt face. The rags he wore, hung limply against his slight body, his long black hair tied up in knots just to keep it out of his face. He would've fit in with the dark ages perfectly as a lowly peasant boy if sent back in time. His hands were thickly calloused, and the skin that stretched tightly across his body was a deep tan. His lips were thin and papery, chapped to the hilt. The young man, was desperate or a drink, even some food would've been nice. Still, he kept working, as a peasant works a Lord's fief. Those dandelions have never looked so good. His green eyes surveyed his work, misery and pain was forever ingrained into their beautiful emerald color.
He shifted his weight onto his other foot, admiring the niceness of his shoes. His most prized possession. One night, he snuck away to the local park and happened upon a bunny. He was so hungry that night, Vernon hadn't permitted him any food for two weeks. He somehow managed to knock the rabbit unconscious with a stone he threw at its head. Taking the pocketknife he nicked from Dudley, he took the skin off the rabbit. He then proceeded to eat the rabbit raw, guts and all. He was really hungry.
Afterwards, he was so ashamed of the fact that he ate the rabbit like a wild animal, he would lovingly use the skin. He snuck back into the house, into his cupboard, and found a ribcage bone of one of the many dead rats in his bedroom. He pulled out some thread from his already ruined blanket. He worked until the morning on the skin, and when morning came, he had the nicest object he had ever own in his pitiful collection of possessions; He had soft, warm rabbit skin shoes.
Sometimes those rabbit shoes were all that kept him going. When he felt so down that he didn't want to continue, all he had to do was think of those shoes. Should he let the bunny that saved his life sacrifice be wasted? That bunny's life-force went into him and he intended to put it to good use.
Today, being a Sunday, was the only bright spot in his dreary life. After the Dursley's went to church, the boy would be able to spend all day at a friend of his house. Arabella Figg, was to 'babysit' him every Sunday, from 10 AM to 10 PM. But she always did more then babysit him.
She taught him. Everything he could possibly need to know, from languages, to physics, to tactics, even to chemistry sometimes. Any book she could get her hands on, she gave to him, and taught him everything he could learn from it. He was certain she only did it out of pity, but he loved his only, older, friend for the education anyway. It was better then to die a nobody serf; He could at least say he was an educated serf.
He quickly put all the gardening tools back into the tool shed, and then he all but ran into the cupboard to grab all of his stuff. Basically, he just grabbed a rucksack he made out of old clothes that he no longer fit into. Most of the times, he knew it was magic that held the bag together under the weight of all the textbooks Mrs. Figg had given him.
Without so much of a goodbye, he slipped away to his teacher. He rang the doorbell, and soon enough, after a bit of cluttering noises, she answered the door for him. He smiled when he saw her funky old cat's barrel through the door in front of her. His teeth were straight, but they were very yellow, almost brown, giving his otherwise rather pleasant smile a rather feral look.
"Come! Come in my good boy!" the small lady all but dragged him into her house. He kept pleasantly in step with her as she led him into her living area. "I have a birthday gift to you, although I know your birthday is on Wednesday, I thought you'd like this." The older lady reached above her brick fireplace and grabbed a sword. The young man's eyes widened like a deer in the headlights.
"That's- that's a sword." He said rather stupidly. The older woman just chuckled and nodded.
"Yes, it is a sword. It's been in my family for generations, but since I am the last of my line, it wouldn't be going anywhere much after my death. I want you to have it." She shoved the longsword into his hands. "Here is a scabbard for it as well. It goes on your back, the strap resting on top of your right shoulder, and going under your left." She told him as she adjusted the straps. "There you go. The sword looks good, but you look a right mess. We can't have that. Come." The man just followed her without question, a little to tired to bother arguing.
They walked into her cluttered bathroom, and he looked at her questioningly. She grinned, grabbed some shampoo, conditioner, and soap, then proceeded to throw him in the shower, clothes and all.
He was caught by surprise, but soon enough he realized his precious rabbit shoes were getting wet. He hurriedly threw them out of the shower, and then slowly removed the rest of his clothes. The hot water felt wonderful. He had never had a hot water shower before. He took his time pulling out all the knots and bands in his hair, he took his time cleaning his body, he just took his time the whole shower.
When he came out of the shower, he found a few towels were at his disposal, and that she had left a robe for him. Not sure of what he was to wear; he just stood looking at the rather foreign clothes.
"Wipe yourself with the towels, and then put on the robe." An exasperated Mrs. Figg called through the wooden door. He chuckled then did exactly that. A few minutes later he walked out of that bathroom, never having feeling so clean before in his life. He had never felt so warm, heck, he had never had a plushy green robe to call his own.
Though a sinking feeling started in his stomach, when he saw Figg standing there with scissors, hairbrushes, combs, and a hair dryer, ready to take care of the mess he called his hair. Figg laughed when she saw his face.
"Now, now, the sword looks better then you. This isn't right, you are supposed to make the sword look like a sword, not, Excalibur." They both laughed a bit, and eventually he sat on the wooden chair that she dragged from her dining room and waited patiently for her to start working.
She glared at his, still tangled and knotted hair, and then ferociously pulled a hair band that he had missed in the shower. Then she happily set to work taking out all of his knots and tangles. Two hours later, she finally got them all. She stood back and admired her awesomeness.
"Please, don't cut it to short, if it over six inches long, it lays down straight. Any shorter then that it sticks up and out in every direction." He said politely, and Figg nodded.
She pulled his hair back, one last time with her brush, then admired the fact that his hair could reach to his waist. She lifted up her scissors till the six inch point, which was about an inch from the bottom of his head. A few seconds later, she handed him a mirror. It lay down straight, but it looked thick and dangerous at the way it landed. It was very him. She handed the boy a mirror. He smiled at his reflection. He looked decent when cleaned up.
"Now come here, I will show you how to shave, with a dagger." She ran back to her fireplace and grabbed her ancestral dagger and sheath. She positioned the sheath on him; it rested sort of like a police gun strap did. The she held up the dagger in front of his face. "This was also my ancestors, and it is also yours. Now here is how you shave your stubble with it." She tried to show him, but he started squirming. "What! Hold still." She glared at him testily, he stopped and smiled sheepishly.
"It looks sharp! What if you miss and cut me?" He asked hesitatingly, she laughed.
"Well two things, squirming does raise the likelihood of that, and if I do cut you, you'll have an awesome scar. He stopped moving, and listened attentively to her as she showed him how to shave with the dagger. When they were done, he looked much, much cleaner.
"Now, you can keep your rabbit shoes, but everything else you walked over here with, is going to burn." She grinned at him, his eyes wigged out.
"But what will I wear from now on!" He yelled hurriedly after her bounding body. He scrambled from his chair and chased after her. She ran into the bathroom and gather up all his ridiculous clothes, leaving the rabbit shoes.
"The clothes I am about to give you of course." She stated then dumped all of his clothes into her fireplace. "Don't worry so much, the rabbit shoes are still in the bathroom." She stated, and instantly his face turned from worry to glee.
She went into her bedroom, and then ran out with an armful of clothes. "Here, these are the only clothes I have which could even wish to fit you." She dumped it all into his arms. "Go put them on. Go, go!" She shoved him out of the living area and into the bathroom yet again. He locked the door of the bathroom and set down the clothes on the closed lid of her toilet. He took off his robe, then grabbed the clothes she brought him. He put on the boxers first, he then grabbed his shirt thing. It was a white, coarse cotton loose fitting tunic shirt. He eyed it oddly. He didn't see many people wear stuff like that around the streets very often. He then shrugged and put it on. He never wore what other people did anyway. It was a little itchy, but it didn't really bother him that much. He grabbed the coarse black cotton pants that she brought him. There wasn't a stitch of elastic in them, and the hung very limply on him. His eyebrows shot up when he saw the grey rabbit belt that matched his shoes all but perfectly. He looped it around his pants, and then tucked his shirt in. He tightened the belt to its proper place, and the clothes looked much better on him. The next article of clothing surprised him. It was a jacket of sorts, it had the same black material as his pant, but the shoulder blades were built up around his next and looked like his belt and shoes. He quickly grabbed his shoes and pulled them on, tucking the bottom hem of his pants into them. The grey fur almost stuck out like a shiny magnet, it would draw awed stares. He left the toggles on his jacket unconnected, he liked how his shirt showed beneath the jacket. He grabbed the longsword that he left beside the tub, the black leather sheath, he positioned just right, so that it was on the grey fur and not the black clothes, but didn't flatten the fur. He then grabbed the dagger, and its black sheath that was piled up within his robes. It hung behind his jacket, secreted away, but easy for him and him alone to grab.
He exited the bathroom a new man. It was as if he went from peasant to lord.
"Hey Mrs. Figg, how do I look?" He asked happily, but he definitely wasn't not expecting an answer. "Mrs. Figg?" All of a sudden he hears a bit of a war cry, and there was a heavy object shoved into his hand, as well as a smaller object as far as he could tell. He would've studied them more, but he was starting to feel ill and dizzy. He could faintly here Mrs. Figg muttering some words, but couldn't make them out enough. A few moments later he was out cold.
An hour or so had passed, and he was still out cold. Eventually he came to. The first thing he did, as always, was survey his surroundings. He was definitely not out cold in Figg's house, but he didn't think that she could've lifted and carried him very far.
He was lying down in the tall grass, but he could see a path a few feet away. He looked down at the objects he was carrying. In his right hand was a black leather pouch, he opened it up and found that it was full of coins of a sort. They were rather unrecognizable. He quickly tied the pouch up inside his coat. Then in his other hand, his left hand was a saddle as far as he could tell. It was weird shaped, all nice black leather, but it was tall and rectangle in the front and back of it. He noticed that hanging from it was a black leather bridle.
This was starting to become a very odd birthday present.
He looked at the path, and heaved up the saddle. He might as well start walking.
As the sun was going down, a very tired man was nearing civilization. He could see the town and a small castle that stood strong. A few of the town buildings spilled out in front of the castle gates. He figured the walls were too small to fit the growing population.
He repositioned his saddle again, finding it odd that the only life he has come across so far had been a castle town. He noticed the stares from some of the people that he was attracting. He looked oddly at the people; they all wore rags, and what appeared to be cotton dresses. Almost all of the kids were standing in the mud without shoes.
This was the first time he had ever seen someone dressed similarly to him.
He walked towards what looked like a church, something he had never been to before. He sat his saddle down by the door as he walked in.
"Hello?" He called out hesitatingly, not certain of what he was expecting.
"Yes? I am at the front, please wait, I will be out in a moment." He nodded to himself, then picked up his saddle again, and walked to the front of the chapel and sat at the front pew. He gently sat his saddle down at his feet.
As he waited, he thought about what had happened so far. Soon enough he was coming to the only logical reason for all that happened. Mrs. Figg had knowingly sent him back in time. How was he to explain this to the Priest person? He'd make a cover story. That's why she handed him the saddle. To make a story up.
He shifted his weight when the man walked out of the room he was in towards him. The man was dressed in a funky leather cap, and brown cotton robes that reached the floor.
"Sir, on my path, my horse spooked and knocked me off. I bumped my head, and I am sorry to say I am suffering from memory loss. The only thing I can remember is my name, and stuff I've learned like French, Latin, Spanish, and some Deutsch. I can't even remember what direction I was going in. Just that, I later found my horse, only to have it leave me late at night, with nothing but the clothes on my back, and the saddle I was resting on. Can you help fill me in? I don't know the date, where I am at, or even what coins are worth what." He looked at the older man in need of his help. The man nodded and brought over a rickety wooden chair.
"Please, call me Brother Gilbert. It is 1147 A.D month of October. This is the town of Surrey, it is a small village, but rapidly growing as you see the buildings spilling out of the walls. Not very much happens to us, as it is a time of peace. Although, there were crusades earlier this year, us English participated mainly in the siege of Lisbon. Many of the soldiers are still returning home even now. Oh and there is anarchy going on between Matilda and King Stephen, succession to the throne trouble. I almost wish they would just give the crown to Matilda. Stephen is a terrible king. Lousy politician, war general etc. Though, there hasn't really been a big battle fought over this since 1141. It fizzled out a bit with the crusades and Rout of Winchester battle that the crown won. Although, there had been several attempted battles over the years. It's all in a bit of stalemate. Neither Maud nor Stephen can really expand their territory much." Gilbert mumbled off then noticed the young man's confused look, "Maud is Matilda's nickname, because Stephen's wife is also Matilda. Castle Surrey is currently supporting Maud, so don't say anything Pro-Stephen. I wonder a lot though, there is no decent heir produced from Stephen, so why is he fighting so hard for the crown he isn't very good at wearing? After he's dead the crown is most likely to go to Maud's son, Henry Curtmantle. He is supposedly a good tactician, smart, and an administrative person. We are in tough times, with Stephen, someone must've sinned really bad for everyone to be under his command." The young man listened attentively, still confused about what all was going on, but slowly understanding. "Our Lord, Sir Calloway, is a decent Lord. Surrey is really lucky to be apart of his fief. It is a great place to live. Unlike some of the other country knights, Calloway isn't corrupt and power hungry, his son his also very decent. We are in good hands. So, now that you have a decent idea, what was your name?" Brother Gilbert asked him like he would a friend.
"I am Thomas Colville, of Albany." Thomas said, the Brother looked at him speculatively.
"You don't look like a Thomas, nor a Colville." He pointed out plainly. Thomas looked at him and chuckled.
"I guess my parents never really knew their son then." He smiled at the brother, and Gilbert looked at him a second longer, before jumping up. He ran to the front room again.
"I almost forgot you didn't know much about coins. This," Held up a copper coin, "A pence, 12 pence is worth a shilling," He held up another coin, "And twenty shillings equal a pound." He held up another coin, "This is a pound. Most knights are lucky to have one of these coins. This is the only one I have ever had. Most of the peasants have shillings. Then land measurement are like this: 8 bovates equal 4 vigrates equals to 2 carcuates which equals 1 hide. One hide usually supplies knights with enough money for armour, food, and other necessities. Although knights with 5 hides usually are the richest of country knights." (a/n one hide is supposed to be the equivalent of 120 acres, although some historians think it was only forty. I got this all from Harvard Law website. It was something like; .library.) Thomas nodded his head to show he understood. This was all so confusing.
"Thank you for your time Brother, could you please tell me where I could buy a horse and maybe some food?" Thomas asked him politely.
"The castle's stable is the only place selling horses as of now, and right in front of the castle's door is a good cheap inn which should supply you of a meal. Good luck to you in your travels." Thomas waved a goodbye and picked up his saddle and strode from the small chapel. He walked to the castle door and walked in after a quick friendly nod to the two guards posted in front of the open door. Sitting in a nice wooden throne was, Sir Calloway, Thomas guessed. He gave a quick bow, and strode up to the man once he gestured for him to arise.
"And who are you? Surely you aren't a peasant of mine?" Calloway asked him friendly in a deep gruff voice. Thomas looked the man over, he wore plain leather armour, and had a sword sheathed at his hip. He took an instant liking to him; he seemed a plain simple man.
"No sir, and unfortunate man who is now a horse short. This was the nearest town, and I was told to get a ride from the castle." Thomas lightly joked politely, the man laughed.
"Yes it appears so," He stated gesturing to the saddle. "Come, we will see some horses." He stood up and walked next to Thomas, and for the first time saw the sword on his back. "A long sword like that? Who are you really?" Thomas pulled out his long sword, then handed it to Calloway.
"It was a friend of mine, she was the last one of her family, and she didn't want the sword to disappear so she gave it to me. I have no idea how to use it. But I do know how to shave using this." Thomas joked while pulling out a dagger. Calloway was still eyeing the sword.
"This is a very well made sword, it's a crime to know that its handler doesn't know how to use it. What is your line of work?" He asked him, now curious about the well dressed young man.
"Nothing actually, I have slight memory loss, courtesy of my missing horse. I know many languages though, and I am well schooled in maths. I think it will be simple enough to find a job; especially with the King's rather poor job of retaining scribes and financial advisors."
"What! You know how many languages, exactly?" Calloway was more intrigued by the man with each passing second.
"I believe I know six at this point. Why?" Thomas didn't understand the gobsmacked look on Calloway's face.
"How old are you, boy?" Thomas had to struggle to keep in his flinch at the word boy.
"14 sire. I am fourteen. What does this have to do with anything?" He grabbed back his sword from Calloway's outstretched hand.
"Fourteen! Amazing. I tell you what, I will give you this horse for free, in exchange for two things, you let me teach you how to fight, and you teach my eleven year old son French. Is it a deal?" Calloway asked, Thomas thought it over in his head.
"Yes sir, it is." They shook on it.
Months later, Thomas found himself very good at fighting with various weapons, and Draco Calloway was very well spoken and written in French. He packed up his meager possessions into a pack on his horse.
"Thomas!" He turned his head to see Calloway running towards him. "I'd like you to ally yourself with Maude. She needs another champion warrior, and I know you have what it takes. You need to do something with your talent, and sending you to the crusade would be to send you to your death. Especially since her previous champion, Robert of Gloucester has died. Please, take yourself to Maude, and hand her this letter. Follow this path here." He gave him a map, and pointed to a certain path, "Maude will be a better Crown then Stephen, even if she doesn't wear the crown, her eldest needs to. Now go my friend, and please, go to Maude." He gave Thomas a sort of half hug.
Thomas hopped up upon his tall grey horse. With one last nod to Calloway, he took off at a canter through the village and followed the path to Maude. Many heads turned as he went through the town, but he ignored it all. He was set in the direction of Wallingford, where Maude was said to reside in. He rode hard and long, only stopping just before the sun went down to catch some food and start a fire. He tried to avoid all towns and people.
Finally, he arrived at his destination. This castle was much, much larger and so was the town. This was an official place. He rode into the town that cold February 18. He looked at the guard, regular swordsmen.
"I must speak with Maude, please, take me to her." The guard looked at him in amusement.
"Go to the castle, and speak with Corinthe. If she deems you worthy, you may speak with Maude." The guard gestured to the castle doors. Thomas nodded his thanks and cantered his horse to the doors. He tied the reins loosely to the saddle, then dismounted and let his horse roam free. He strode briskly into the grey stone castle.
"Corinthe?" He asked the nearest woman, probably a servant maid. She pointed at a tall red headed woman. Thomas nodded then walked to her.
"Are you Corinthe?" He asked her politely, the woman nodded her head. "I need to speak with Maude. Please. I do have not a desire to waste her time." Corinthe looked at him speculatively.
"Why should I let you see her?" Her voice was lovely sounding, like sweet honey.
"Robert of Gloucester is dead. Maude needs a champion leader for her army. I wish to be that person." Thomas stated, Corinthe's eyed him in amusement.
"You and two hundred other men. She wants her son to be the leader. It is only her right. So why should I let a random stranger have the role?" Corinthe asked him smartly.
"I am Thomas Colville, by the way, because, her son is in line to receive the crown. Putting him at the head of the army, is putting him at the head of trouble. I know six languages, I have been trained to fight, trained with tactics and strategies. Maude needs me at the head of the army, not her son." Corinthe sighed.
"Alright, but you better not waste my liege's time."
"I wouldn't dream of it." He followed Corinthe as she lead him to Maude's room.
"My lady, may I present Thomas Colville. He wishes to speak to you, and I have deemed him worthy enough." Maude waved her away, and Corinthe left the room. Thomas stood proud under Maude's calculating gaze.
"What is it you want, commoner?" Maude barked at him.
"I want for you, to want me, to lead your army." He stated right back, she guffawed then sniffed pompously.
"Why should I let you instead of my son?" Thomas had been expecting that question.
"I know six languages, maths, physics, tactics, strategies, and how to fight. Putting your son at the head of the army, is putting him in more unnecessary danger. I don't want anything in payment, except for food and armour. I am happy with the knowledge that England will be under proper rule. I have a letter of recommendation from Sir Calloway of Surrey." Maude's face morphed into surprise at this.
"Let me see that letter." Thomas handed her the letter eagerly, thinking he was breaking through to her. She read the letter a few times, stoically, as if she didn't know what to make of it. "Why would a well-known King Stephen supporter send such a good fighter to be my leader of forces? Why, to send me a message that says 'Ha Ha Ha' lovely isn't it?" Maude glared at Thomas then inconspicuously dropped her hand to her sword.
"What! Let me see this! Calloway loved you! He sent me here to be your commander with this letter of recommendation…" Sure enough, the letter read Ha Ha Ha. Thomas scrunched his brow up in furious concentration, and then realized what Calloway really sent him here for. "I swear I had no idea Maude, I still wish to serve you." He bowed his head. He couldn't believe Calloway had tricked him so. Maude looked at him in concentration.
"I do believe you, but I will always doubt. I can't let you leave this room, knowing that you were truly sent here to assassinate me." She said withdrawing her sword.
"I understand, but I cannot, and will not be imprisoned or killed." Thomas said withdrawing his sword as well.
"I understand that, truly I do. I am sorry."
"Likewise." With that the first blow was thrown, and blocked. Maude quickly proved herself to be a very skilled fighter. Each parry that was thrown was blocked, each thrust, blocked, every swing, was blocked. They were very evenly matched. As Thomas passed the stepped back, he got a sudden idea. He grabbed the hot candle off the wall and threw it at Maude. It hit her right above the eye. She fell to the floor with a screech. He rushed over to her and knock her sword away. He scraped the wax off her face quickly, and blew out the flame on the candle, and instantly the room got ten shades darker and colder. Maude looked at him, with fear evident in her deep brown eyes.
"Even though, I could easily kill you, I am not going to. I am going to let you live with that burn scar, and the knowledge, that your rightful paranoia cost you a most loyal champion that would've had you crowned by the end of the year. Have fun explaining this to your eldest son." Thomas said, then quickly hopped up to his face, then jumped out of the window that was open to the city. He flew down and landed on his horse and galloped out of Wallingford as if the devil himself resided there. A few minutes later, the bushy brown haired woman sat up, for the shock had worn of. She cursed into the air.
"Guards!"
Meanwhile, Thomas was riding hard to Calloway in Surrey; he didn't care how much the peasants loved him. He was going to slay him for his trickery. The trip that took him three days of quick riding, took him 18 hours of hard riding. He and his horse worth both exhausted by the time they reached the sight of Surrey castle at about 3 A.M. He let his horse wander near the edge of the forest exit. He snuck throughout the walls, then easily found an unguarded spot, and just as easily entered the castle. He snuck through the halls of the small castle, unnoticed by a single guard.
He entered the bedroom of his sword mentor. The pale blond haired man was sleeping quietly, soundly. Thomas grabbed his dagger, and then quietly slit his throat. Not more then ten minutes later, he was out of Castle Surrey and on his horse. He rode to Westminster, where King Stephen was currently residing. He finally rested for the first time later that evening, much to his horse's relief. He still slept with one eye open.
The next morning he hopped back on his horse after a quick breakfast and rode to Westminster with a hidden fury. He arrived at his destination at about 4 P.M. And once again, most of the peasants turned their heads and stared at him as he rode past. He really must've been stunning. He got off his horse and approached the castle gates, his horse following him lazily. They were open, for now. So were the grand castle doors. He shook his hand so the horse would quit following him, although it would be quite a sight for a king to be greeted by a horse. King Stephen was currently holding court; although, Thomas wouldn't really call it court. It was rather pathetic; it was just the King flirting with the many ladies of English court, and his wife sitting patiently beside him.
Thomas nearly walked into a wall. Next to Queen Maltida, was THE most beautiful woman he had ever seen. He was pretty certain his mouth was hanging wide open, and that he was drooling.
King Stephen must've noticed him, for he coughed loudly, knocking Thomas straight out of his stupor. A couple of the ladies giggled at him knowing who he was staring at.
"And you are?" The King held him under a steady gaze.
Thomas coughed awkwardly and said, "Thomas Colville at your service, my liege." He bowed down low.
"Alright, what do you want?" The king barked at him, already tired of this impudent whip.
"I wish to lead your armies to victory, do all your dirty work for you, and anything else you may require. For no price except for food and armour." King Stephen's eyebrows shot up into his head of slick brown hair.
"You are so eager to serve, you would serve me without price?" the King asked surprised.
"Anything, to keep the rightful king from losing his crown, I am loyal to the death to the British crown, and for now it belongs to you. I intend to keep it that way." Thomas said, standing straight, and looking the king in the eye. He noticed the entire castle hall had hushed and were listening intently to the two.
"Well, let's see how well you fight. Win without kill, then maybe." The king nodded and instantly the 18 guards in the hall rushed towards Thomas with intent to kill. Thomas didn't even bother with removing his swords. As they ran right to him with there pikes reaching out, Thomas waited until that moment they would hit them to throw himself onto the floor sliding out of the way, and it was all the infantry could do to keep from hitting each other fatally. Although one guy appeared to be hit pretty hard on his arm, if the blood squirting out was any indication. Thomas threw himself back in the action. He picked up a shield that the hurt pike man had dropped, he then bashed as hard as he could on the pike man's head, knocking him unconscious. He took off the pike mans helmet. The other guards abandoned their pikes and withdrew their swords. One guy went to thrust forward, aimed at Thomas belly button, but he used the helmets eyehole to catch the sword and flip it out of the guys head, then with a crazy yell, he leaped forward and bashed the guy upside the head with a knockout punch.
He dived to the ground again and rolled out of the way just in time to avoid three well positioned blows to his back He threw his shield hard at another guard, hitting him pretty hard, breaking skin around his abdominal area. He was out of the fight, clutching his midsection in pain. Thomas looked around his surroundings and noticed a table not to far from his right. He picked up the table and launched it at a group of four guards effectively knocking them out, and breaking a table. Eight guards were down, and there was ten to go. Picking up the shield he dropped in exchange for the table, he charged shield first at another guard.
He deflected a downward slash and caught the mans sword hand. He bent the man's hand all the way back at the wrist, and right before it would've broken bone, the man dropped his sword. So Thomas settled for bashing him in the head with his shield and taking his helmet.
He deflected many more sword slashed, and soon enough, there were eighteen unconscious men lying around missing helmets and shields. There were also several dented and cracked shields lying around.
Thomas calmly kneeled in front of the king. "As you asked my liege, I won without kill." The king gaped at the young boy who seemed to involve hand to hand and acrobatic fighting against swords and easily win. He looked at him nervously.
"I tell you what, if you can win against me with nothing but a sword and a helmet, I will let you lead a small company to overtake an unspecified town. Does this sound satisfactible?" King Stephen stood up and took off his outer robe, revealing a nice suit of armour.
"Yes, my liege, I will do my best to prove my worth." He clutched his shield onto his left arm, and gripped the helmet in his right hand even harder. King Stephen withdrew his sword, and picked a well balanced fighting stance. Thomas noted it away for further studying. Soon the blows started and it revealed that a King with a sword, was a very even match for a boy with a helmet and shield.
After twenty minutes of landing blow for blow, Thomas saw his chance when the king didn't pull back soon enough as he thrust his sword at his shoulder. He bashed down on the kings arm as hard as he could with the shield on his left arm, then threw his helmet as hard as he could at the king's face. The king wasn't knocked unconscious, but he was dazed and dropped his sword. Thomas calmly picked up the King's sword, and the helmet he threw at him.
The King regained his bearings and balance soon enough. He stared long and hard at Thomas's indifference to the applause and cheering going on around him. Stephen decided that he liked the man, that he liked him a lot. He turned around and grabbed his robe and donned it once more.
"Come, follow me. Court is closed for now." He announced to the hall, and strode to his office with Thomas walking calmly right behind him.
Poor Thomas had no idea that over half the women in the hall were now besotted with him.
"I believe that there was a spy in the midst, so I couldn't tell you everything right then and there. But the place of battle is to be actually and open field battle. You will have only 2,500 troops with you against most of Maude's army of 15,000. But if everyone fights like you did, or even half as well as you did, I believe you can obliterate them. This plan would've never gone through if I didn't have you. The reason you have so little troops, is so you can set up the perfect distraction. That chunk of Maude's army was heading to an undisclosed city. A city I am going to take over easily with most of my army there, and her army somewhere else."
"So basically, you want me to make the perfect ambush with only 2,500 men against 15,000 men so you can take a really crucial city down." Thomas summed up.
"Precisely, if you succeed here, you will be going places Colville. You will be going places." King Stephen patted him on the back and strode from the room. "Are you coming?" He called back to Thomas, who was deep in thought. Thomas jumped up and ran after him. "This is the blacksmiths room. I will have him make you whatever you want or you can take whatever he has already made. After you are done here, have him lead you to the barracks. I will have my captain of the guard help you there." King Stephen was out the door as soon as he said that.
Thomas picked out rather plain steel cuffs to go around his wrists. He tucked his black overcoat into the metal. He grabbed a chainmail vest and tied it on under his coat. The last thing he grabbed was a chainmail coif. He put it on his head, but let it rest around his neck instead of keeping it up. He nodded at the blacksmith then left to find the barracks.
The captain of the guard turned out to be a rather handsome man named William Thatcher. He just explained to him that the King told him to send Thomas away with a meager 2,500 men, he didn't care what type of men that Colville chose.
He chose for a 1,000 men to be archers, another 1,000 to be light infantry, and the last 500 to be horse archers, although, it turned out that nobody knew how to shoot arrows of the back of a horse so he wound up having to use regular light Calvary. He told them all that he only wanted light leather armor, and that archers were to carry food for their quick trip, and that the Calvary were going to be carrying oil and the swordsmen were going to be carrying arrows. Lots of them.
They soon starting their quick trek to the ambush spot that Colville picked out. A day later found them in a narrow path area, with wooded hills rising up at every side which were perfect placing for guerilla warfare tactics. They poured the tar where it was hidden until you walked right over it. There were going to be three flaming arrow archers, with perfect line of sight to the oil pit. They were instructed to fire, ONLY, when almost all the Calvary walked into the death trap. He had his infantry men out of sight for now, but as soon as the enemies Calvary were alighted, they were to strike down anyone still left .After the infantry men were on the field, all the guerilla bowmen were instructed to wield there back up swords and flank the enemy. Surrounding a nervous army at all sides.
A few hours later, at about 2 P.M. Thomas could feel the army slowly approaching a few miles away. The slow rumble of their procession couldn't be mistaken. At this point, the bowmen would only be picking off soldiers who had been wandering in the back. Soon he could see some of the lighter Calvary that was galloping ahead wander into the area. The bowmen knew better then to strike them down. As soon as he saw the heavier Calvary, and the lighter infantry wander in, he knew that they were almost home free. The archers were picking off the heavy infantry in the back now really good.
A few minutes later, many of the army still had no idea nothing was wrong, and at this point just about all the Calvary were on the special oil spot. He smiled when he saw the three flaming arrows soar through the air as planned. Soon almost all the Calvary were alight, and anyone else still alive were now panicking when they realized that most of their army in front and behind them were lying around dead.
"CHARGE!" Thomas yelled out and ran in the front of the infantry pack right into the surprised sea of army. He could the archers were becoming swordsmen and flanking the enemy as planned. After a mere 45 minutes of actual combat, the enemy was defeated. Thomas gave his soldiers permission to take any thing worth money off the enemy. This country was in poor economic state. They needed anything they could get. All the survivors were executed except for one scout, who he along with his horse managed to survive the battle. He was sent with the message to Maude. A message that said, "Ha Ha Ha"
Thomas was more then amazed to hear that his army only had 250 deaths, and 400 minor casualties. 15,000 enemy dead and only 650 casualties (rounded numbers) all in all. It was a very good victory for being severely outnumbered. There was a small feast that night, and of course, a lot of injuries being tended to.
The next morning the band of guards were fully rested and ready to go home, and now every single soldier across the country would be more then confident in Colville's excellent leadership.
Tales that all lead up to legend started being made revolving around Thomas.
Halfway through their slow walk to Westminster, they were interrupted by a quick messenger. Thomas had orders from the king who had heard of his victory to abandon the course to Westminster and head straight to Wallingford where Stephen held it under siege.
Thomas figured his soldiers would be disheartened by the news, but instead they were all the more eager to fight again. Thomas just figured that they thought fighting was fun under proper leadership. Thomas just thought that they all were nutso.
So it was there they changed course to Wallingford. Three days later they were at the King's siege camp. The army got to sit around and rest for a few hours after the long trip. Thomas got no such luxury. He was summoned by the King yet again, as soon as they arrived.
He walked into the red tent that Stephen was currently making battle plans in. He bowed down low.
"You summoned me my liege?" He asked still bowing.
"Arise, please, Thomas. It's rather hard to communicate with someone whose nose is to the floor." Stephen joked joyfully. Thomas arose and stared evenly at his King. "I have heard of your victory at Colville's Hill, I named it after you. I must say, very impressive. At most I was expecting you to take out a good hunk of the enemy, before we ambushed them here as well. Imagine my surprise, when I am told that you demolished all but one of the enemies, only suffering minor casualties yourself. Yes, I am very impressed. Which is why you are going to be knighted tomorrow, and why you are now the chief commander of my entire army, I am now your only superior when it comes to the armies matters. Congratulations."
"Thank you my liege. I promise you, I will not disappoint." Thomas said with yet another bow.
"Yes, I see that now. Now! Let's us talk siege." King Stephen said gleefully.
Hours later they had a pretty decent plan. Rather costly, but still, overall very decent. They were going to fling as much oil as they could into the city walls, and then light it all aflame. Hopefully, it would burn a huge chunk of the forces residing there, down.
While they were going to be distracted with putting out the flames, a ram force they will have ready will be storming the castle gates. A group of skilled archers would try to take out as many guards that would be shooting arrows down the wall as they could. Then, the rest is history; they storm the place, hopefully capture Maude, and win.
Before they started seriously taking over the city, King Stephan introduced Thomas to both of his sons Eustace (heir) and William. They were all decked out in armor ready to fight for their dad, but the only son that Thomas thought wasn't a pompous arse would be William, even then, he didn't think all that highly of him. Eustace was going to lead the country worse then a drunken stripper. After being introduced to the brothers, they started the siege of costly oil. Then the flaming arrows were sent flying through the sky. Thomas had figured that there were at least 5,000 arrows sailing through the air, probably much more though.
Soon the city was a roaring pit of fire. Quickly, Thomas pushed ahead with a few of his selected soldiers with the ram. They started knocking down the doors. They pulled back, ran forward, pulled back, ran forward, and hit those doors. They had a few fall from archers on the walls, but it was much easier with the distractions and the group of archers that were putting pressure on the enemy archers.
After the fifth hit, the doors were knocked wide open. With a yell the whole army stormed into the fiery inferno. Ladders were brought to the walls; people were storming into the city. Thomas had only one location in mind. The castle where Maude's family would be residing. He snuck quietly into the castle. He found the room where Maude was currently hiding out in coming up with a plan. Her entire family was there, so was her personal guard. Thomas quickly disposed of all the guard.
"Ah Maude, How pleasant it is to see you again. You made a big mistake in not choosing me as you can see. I can get you out of here with no one ever knowing you were ever here. But, you must promise that neither you nor your kids will ever set foot in King Stephen's lands ever again. Every time you refuse though, a kid of yours dies. Are we clear?" Thomas asked her, staring her down. She meekly nodded. "So, will you step foot in England again, unless summoned by the king himself?" She grinned at him,
"I will live in England. I will rule England, my kids will rule England!" She grinned at him happily, Thomas scowled. He grabbed his dagger and threw it straight the heart of her eldest son Henry before anyone could blink. He calmly stood up and grabbed his dagger. He wiped it off on the dead boy's clothes then turned back to a stunned Maude.
"Now, I will ask you again, does you immediate family promise to never set foot in England again, unless asked by King Stephen?" Maude's two other sons started to panic.
"Promise him mum! Look what he did to Henry!" They chorused in the same tune. Maude shared a look with Geoffrey, and then sighed.
"I promise that my personal family will never set foot in England unless asked by the King." Thomas smiled and sheathed his dagger.
"Good, now come with me." He led them easily through the rather empty castle. Then he led them calmly out of the city walls. "Now remember Maude, I have held your life in my hands twice. I have given you back your life twice, if there is a next time, your life is mine. If you go in this direction for a few days, there should be a dock that will be willing to take you to your estates Count of Anjou. Here are some shillings. Have a fun boat ride." Thomas joyfully sent them off. Then hopped back into the fighting in the city, it was quite fun. Killing people in a battle that is.
The aftermath of a battle was always the harder parts though. Since Maude wasn't going to campaign for the crown anymore, they could finally concentrate on the economic growth the country was going backwards in. Overall, they won this war with far lesser casualties then Maude's side did. Mainly because of Colville's win at Colville's hill. But, there were two of the most major casualties that one could think of. Both Eustace and William were hurt in the battle. Eustace was actually killed during the battle, but William was injured badly and died of the wounds later on.
A few hours later, all the bodies were ready to be burned, minus Eustace and William who were getting a royal burial. It was rather ironic though, the war was there to keep a woman from the crown, and now Marie, Stephan's daughter was next in line to receive it.
Soon the flames happily engulfed the warriors and a stony silence had taken the place of the cheers of the war won.
The next day at Wallingford, Stephan had knighted one Sir Thomas Colville in front of 40,000 witnesses. Stephan stayed behind at Wallingford, but Thomas trekked home (Westminster) on his famous grey steed with an army following him. People cheered, shouted, danced, and feasted with the knowledge that their loved ones were victorious and that most of them had returned home.
A one Sir Thomas Colville was one of the most celebrated war leaders of the century, his legend being undoubtedly exaggerated to all extremes. Bards just loved his war prowess. He let the peasants and commoners dance and do whatever else they wanted to. He just walked his steed into the royal stables, took care of the horse, and then went straight to bed.
He slept till noon the next day, and was awoken by the king himself.
"Come Sir Thomas, your clothes are bloodstained. We must make them presentable for the feasting banquet tonight. Tomorrow we will start working on the administrative side of things." He threw a nice uniform to Thomas, "This is your new gear, I am naming you the heir to all that my sons were going to inherit, except for the crown. The crown will go to my lovely daughter Marie. I had my finest tailor's create you this outfit. It thinner, more flexible then your previous one, but offer's just as much warmth as the clothes you love to wear so much did. Here, drop you dirty clothes in this basket and the servants will take care of it. Hurry and get changed I want to make you the Lord of the lands soon." Thomas just drearily eyed the spot where Stephan previously stood. That man could talk really quickly. He held a black uniform with a blood red sash to hold his pants. The sides of his legs were blood red color, his shoulder patches were both Blood red and fringed. Basically all of his trim was blood red. He had a couple of medals hanging from his right pocket, and a few small patches of color stitched on his left.
Surprisingly enough, his black leather shoes looked rather modern. Stiff, shoelace, and shiny. The main difference was the fact that they were thick leather soles and not rubber. He pulled on the silky and puffy white shirt and tucked it in. He then put the jacket on, pulling together the three toggles that only went up to bottom middle of his ribcage, showing the high quality shirt under the jacket quite well. He quickly cleaned up and brushed his hair with the bowl of water and brush that was left on the table near his bed.
Then he, somehow, managed to shave without cutting himself. He sheathed his dagger, then pulled his long sword and scabbard onto his shoulder again, and positioned it just right.
He threw all of his dirty clothes into the brown basket, thinking how weird pants feel without his underwear. When all of a sudden something red stone caught his eye, he hadn't seen it before, but it seemed to fall out of a pocket in his coat. He tucked the stoned in his pant pocket, and then he started searching his dirtied jacket for a secret pocket. After a few minutes he found a piece of paper, but didn't get a chance to read it as the servants started crowding his room. He then all but fled from his room to the great hall.
"Ah! Thomas m'boy! Dashing as ever I see." King Stephen happily called out to him; Thomas rolled his eyes and walked closer to the King. "Look at all the girls! They all seem to fancy you a bit. Have fun at the celebration tonight!" Stephen threw his arm around Thomas's shoulder then gestured grandly at all the girls. Thomas rolled his eyes.
"I am sorry my liege, but I have no interest in relationships at the moment. I wish to powerhouse this country a bit." Thomas said apologetically, the King just shrugged it off.
"Have you met Marie yet, my daughter?" King Stephen asked him, Thomas shook his head no. Well, he might have seen her, but he certainly hasn't met her. "You know, sometimes I am so amazed that you're only fifteen years old. It's is truly amazing, considering all you have accomplished." Stephen started mumbling off in his praise of Thomas. "Marie!" He shouted across the hall lazily, and a young woman came running to her father.
"Yes, father?" She gave her dad a little curtsey. Thomas's jaw hit the floor. It was the exact same woman whose beauty had overcame his ability to think a few weeks ago. She had long flowing red hair that reached just below her shoulder blades, and a body to kill for. She was tall and lean. Thomas believed he was still just a slight bit taller. He hurriedly closed his jaw. This was dangerous territory approaching.
"Marie, I would like you to meet Sir Thomas Colville. He is the man I am naming to be your brother's inheritor for all but the crown." King Stephan introduced Thomas quietly. Marie turned to him and curtsied as well before holding out her hand. Thomas leaned down a kissed it, before bowing.
"My liege." Marie scoffed and turned to her father.
"Honestly father, name this man the heir to everything, he is more the loyal to the crown, and is strong and capable like no other. I don't wish to rule. I wish to give my life to the good Lord." Marie passionately informed her frowning father. Thomas could feel himself becoming even more infatuated with her.
"I know! I've wanted to! For some strange reason, I've wanted to give a random man I've only known for a few weeks, the entire inheritance. But, I can't, I've already pulled all of my strings making him the Count of Boulogne, Count of Mortain, and heir to the Earl of Surrey another three titles, which would be under your command. Be thankful I've been able to get them to let him have those." The King explained calmly enough to his daughter, Thomas just watched it all patiently. He stored away this conversation in his mind for further use. Marie's hazel eyes looked at her father understandingly, but they still seemed to be dull.
"You wish to work for Christ?" Thomas asked her changing the subject, she nodded her head. "I would've liked to do that, except I want to have a family of my own. Not just brothers and sister, but a son and a daughter." Marie smiled at him, showing off her straight whitish teeth.
"That's the reason many people don't work solely for the Lord. They want family. But that is another way of working for him, God wants more children to call his own." Marie said getting into the groove of talking to Sir Thomas. "You know, he did place us on earth under the directions to procreate…" She trailed off with a laugh.
"Come on you two! Thomas's ceremony is starting in half an hour and all you guys can talk about his God and family? Blah, Boring." Marie and Thomas started laughing at the cheerful, but slightly overbearing King. They soon sat down at the feasting table and started to eat lunch. The King sat at the head of the table, Marie sat at the right, and Thomas was at his left. The king rose up for his toast.
"May I have your attention?" He asked loudly, and all the chatter stopped. "Good, now I'd like to propose a toast to Sir Thomas Colville. With his superior tactics and strategy, he won the war for me humbly without charge, for that I will always be grateful. But, now is he not only the leader of my armies, I am naming to be the heir to things my two dead sons were to be leader of. Please, raise a toast of thanks to the future Count of Boulogne, Count of Mortain, and heir to Earl of Surrey. Sir Thomas!" Thomas clapped lightly, but mainly kept his head down and blushed into his plate. He was too modest and the uproarious applause was just a little too much.
Thomas had never been so relieved to see lunch coming. He calmly waited for the King to gesture that everyone can eat. Once the King did, Thomas started on his pork first, thinking how far butchering improvements had gone in the future. Maybe, that could be something he could help improve, subtly bringing modern equipment. Obviously, he wouldn't be creating electricity, but there were still many ways to have an efficient butcher without it.
Thomas's mind loved to do that, wander off thinking about ways to vastly improve the life of England. Soon enough, someone would eventually wave their hands in front of his face, and he'd snap out of it.
After the twenty minute, mini feast of a lunch, they were walking outside to a makeshift stage that had been built this morning. All the peasant's, commoners, merchants, soldiers, and anyone else that you can think off, were in this very cramped and crowded area. They all were eager to watch. Westminster is a very large town, the area was more then cramped, but they still somehow had room to move when the royal procession, headed by the King made their way through.
They all walked up on stage, the ladies of the court lining up in the back, the other Knights and Lords who were currently in town lined up in front of them. Marie and he were in the middle right behind the king, she was to the right and he was to the left.
Thomas himself tuned out the speech, finding it long and tediously boring. But he stepped forward at the part where the king named him Count of Boulogne, Count of Mortain, and heir to the Earl of Surrey, if Draco Calloway never produced an heir. He stepped back, and Marie stepped forward being named as the heir to the throne.
A roaring cheer swept through the crowd and Thomas now found himself a Count instead of a Sir.
After the speech all of the nobles went into the great hall for the celebration. A band had stationed themselves near the wall opposite of the feast table, and any furniture that was in the middle of the room had been pushed back to the walls to make a dance floor. Many people all but jumped onto the floor eager to dance. Thomas was content with watching people dance from his spot in the shadows.
Soon enough he was being dragged to the dance floor by a seven year old girl. Chuckling, he somehow lowered himself to her height of four feet three inches and started waltzing. It drew a lot of laughs from all they passed, seeing a five foot ten inch man, being dragged around and shrunken. But surprisingly, Thomas was enjoying the laughter, and was even laughing himself. The little girl was a cute little blonde, and she was thoroughly enjoying dragging around war hero. Someone once told him that you will never survive this cruel world, if you cannot laugh at yourself.
Though, Thomas wasn't ashamed to say, that as soon as the dance ended he all but ran away. Little girls can be very scary when they put their mind to it. But before he could get away, an adult woman grabbed him and started making him dance to the next song. He wasn't certain of what she was talking about, but he wanted to throw a bag of cough drops in her face so badly.
He tried getting away after that dance, but to no avail, another young woman caught him and forced him to dance yet again. Thomas soon gave up on running away after the fourth time he tried and failed. He was resigned to his fate of dancing with everyone there. But he was quickly getting irritated with the woman he was currently dancing with. She was a cat woman. She had 12 cats for company, and could talk about them all day long. Just when he was going to lose the last of his hope for survival, he heard a voice ask to cut in.
He had been traded off to Marie to his relief. She started laughing at him.
"You really should learn to cover up your emotions a little better. I was all the way across the room and could see that you wished nothing more then to kill yourself. I can't stand listening to her and her cats." She joked, as Thomas led the dance. He just laughed and smiled.
"Well, I'm just thankful I got to lead a dance at least once. I bet all the men think I'm a bloody poof, being dragged around and led in dance by women." Marie look confused for a moment but then laughed. He twirled her around then turned in the circle as did everyone else. Her crème dress swirled around her elegantly with every movement. It got Thomas thinking of his new clothes that the King had made him. They were much comfier then his other clothes, he had decided he'd wear his official uniform for everyday things, and his rabbit shoe outfit or battle. This line of thought made Thomas want to shoot himself, here he was dancing with a most beautiful girl, and all he could think about were clothes.
"I'd say so. I also say I truly to believe you want family, the way you humbly gave the little girl a fun dance. You're a natural father, unlike mine." Marie looked over her shoulder and saw King Stephen across the hall. "He never understood that kids need attention. But, it's ok now."
"It is? I was under the impression that we are both still kids." Thomas said as he dipped her.
"I may be fourteen, and you may be fifteen, and we may still be young. But believe me, we are not kids. You, having done and seen so much, well terror, and I never really had a childhood and constantly overseeing stuff when my dad and brothers were gone. They were gone all the time. No, we are not kids." Marie sadly stated, Thomas frowned then lifted her from the dip.
"We are both still young enough to get our childhood back." Thomas said as they continued to dance.
"No, it is much too late for us." Marie ended the conversation with that, and Thomas turned her one last time as the dance ended. It was amazing how much more relaxed he was when he wasn't flung about the dance floor. But, for the first time, he managed to escape the great hall. He walked along the hallways until he was on the second floor balcony. He stared out over city building leaning heavily on the wooden railing.
It was a pretty night that night the stars were shining brightly and a crescent moon glared at the town.
Thomas rubbed his hands to keep them warm as he peered out over the city. It was an April night after all.
"Guess you needed to get away as well." He heard Marie say as she stood next to him, peering over the city. Thomas didn't turn to look at her; instead he continued to look out.
"Dances aren't really something I enjoy." He stated evenly.
"Nor is praise, or money, so what is it that you truly enjoy?" She spoke of his modest plainness. Thomas chuckled.
"If you found that out, please tell me, I'm afraid I don't quite know." He joked, and Marie smiled. "Nah, seriously, I enjoy employing battle tactics. I enjoy the administrative side of things. I enjoy riding alone along a trail and I enjoy talking with you and your father. That's about it." He looked over the city again. "What can I say? I guess I'm simple."
"Simple is, as simple does, and you are anything but simple." Marie stated as she leaned on the guardrail with him in companionable silence peering over the city. A few minutes later, Thomas found himself lifting his body off the guardrail.
"I better go back into the great hall, before someone starts wondering where the man of the day is. I will see you around Marie." Thomas said, leaving Marie to herself, and walking to the great hall.
He spent the rest of the night in boredom, leaving as quickly as he could once he was dismissed.
As soon as he had closed his bedroom door, he took the note from his pocket out. It was parchment paper, which would be extraordinarily weird if it was sent back in time with him.
To My Dear Friend,
This stone, this ruby red stone is something I believe you will find immensely useful no matter what path you have made for yourself. Never lose this stone. It can heal your most grievous of wounds, create gold, and keep you young for ever. To heal wounds, poisons, and other pains, use your blood with the stone then drink your blood. To create gold, drop lead into water, then touch the water with the stone. To freeze your age, immorality, get a glass of water, drop the stone in it for a full ten seconds, and then drink the water. You will never have to worry about aging again.
I am sorry I sent you back in time without permission, but there was nothing but slavery and a hard life here. Nothing could ever change that. By sending you back in time, you have got a chance to make something good of yourself. Although, you could've still ended up being a slave, I had only the desire to see that you could have a chance of being able to be yourself.
With love, your friend,
Mrs. Figg
Thomas smiled at the note. He has more then appreciated Mrs. Figg for helping him. No more raw rabbits or rags for him.
When tomorrow came, he and King Stephen were going to be changing their world for the better. But tomorrow was a long way away for now, and Thomas wanted a nice nights rest. He had a long day of leading in front of him.
He woke the next morning feeling surprisingly refreshed. He was surprisingly giddy, or excited, he couldn't wait to make the peasant's lives better, but still rake in profit. It was times like this he was truly living in his fantasies. He just really loved strategizing for the best.
He splashed some water on his face, and carefully brushed his hair. By carefully, I mean he raked his hand through his hair and let it fall into a messy array. Really, he didn't bother trying to tame it anymore. It gave him a ruggedly handsome look. Well, it helped; he still had some signs of malnourishment. But he was slowly but surely healing.
He dressed quickly into his new clothes then left the castle to go on a walk. There was nothing like a peaceful stroll at the crack of dawn. Well, maybe a nice battle at dusk, but Thomas would never admit that publically. He drew in a breath of the sharp crisp air and smiled. Everything was correct in his life. He felt as if he had belonged there, in this time all along. He had purpose, money if he actually desired to buy something, respect, and command. He had a life that was so much brighter then the dimness he could his childhood.
Two hours was enough of aimless wandering for Thomas and his raging stomach. At nine A.M he walked into the great hall ready to eat his breakfast. He ate whatever it was the servants brought to him and waited patiently for the King to make his presence known. After all, they had important things to discuss.
Many minutes later, the King graced the hall with his presence and sat down grumpily at the table.
"I woke up to early, got to drunk, and woke up to early. Must we run a country today?" Stephen growled angrily at Thomas who smiled slightly at the King's antics.
"You know as well as I, that running a country is a full time job. Unless you want your loyal people running to another leader, I say do job now, sleep later." Stephen just scowled at Thomas, the bread crumbs he was slowly nibbling on getting stuck on his bushy beard. Thomas chuckled and said, "and maybe some herbs for the headache my liege." Stephen stopped scowling and just stared at him with a look that yelled 'Shut up'
"So, Mr. Know- Everything, what do you recommend for this countries future? I am absolutely rubbish at leading economically wise; though I am certain you already know this."
"Well, I was thinking if you placed a dock port here, you would get a steady trade route with France and Spain. It's a good area to raise sheep, something Spain seems to always need, and Spain could bring in horses and dyes. The reason you'd want to trade with France here is because of a mine they recently built. We'd import a load of ore for the blacksmiths. The terrain there is rather barren, so they'd need wood. Lot's and lot's of wood. Something which this dock area has a lot of, placing a dock here would just be a one way ticket to becoming rich. Besides, the province it is in would greatly increase Lord Freshen's loyalty to you. His wage would triple I estimate, with all the peasants that would have to live there to make the dock work." Thomas said while pointing out everything rapidly on his map he pulled out of his jacket.
"How long have you spent on this Thomas? I can't read any of it! All I see are your scribbles everywhere!" Stephan exclaimed slightly groggily, Thomas grinned.
"Long enough to know what I am talking about, but see, this dock is key. With its construction you'd be bringing in MORE then enough money to lower food tax. Lowering the food tax, will quell any of the rebellion supporters left. I was also thinking that we should build universities, libraries, and free clinics in every major city. Universities of course would have to cost to receive education, but libraries on the other hand. We could make them apart of every church. Books would be free to anyone who wants to read. The free clinics, to keep the health of the servants up, would be the move that peasants would love the most. One in every major city with at least three doctors, the treatments would be free to any and all, technically. But on the other hand, we create a tax of 2 pence a month to help pay the salaries of the doctors and any equipment they may need." Thomas said excitedly with a maniacal grin. Halfway through his speech members of the court started filling in the seats at the table. Many were nodding approvingly, but several seemed indifferent.
"Why do I care about the health of my citizens?" Stephen asked, the man's hazel eyes staring down Thomas curiously.
"The more citizens you have, the more tax revenue you have my liege."
"What if I don't have enough money in the coffers to spare building both docks, and free health clinics? The war was rather expensive you know." Stephen pointed out.
"When the rich wage war, it was the poor that died." Collective gasps were heard at this, several members of the court were certain the King would take that as an insult. Instead the King looked at Thomas oddly. "You owe the peasants that much of a reward Sir." Thomas looked into the King's eyes searching for the gumption and guts he knew Stephen to have.
"I will build this dock, and two clinics in the biggest cities. That is the most amount of money our coffers can spare at this moment. As soon as we get the revenue from the dock, I will build more of your clinics. I must think on the universities and libraries though." Thomas grinned at Stephan.
"Thank you my liege, I promise you, you will not regret this."
"You have said this to me many times, and each time, I never have regretted it. So I trust your word on this!" Stephen said with a booming laugh, and the rest of breakfast proceeded merrily.
A young woman, unknown to others, stood on a balcony overlooking the great hall listening to Thomas and Stephan. She smiled softly as Thomas tried to reason with her father into helping the peasants. She loved her father, but he had about as much compassion for life as the cow had for the butcher. Thomas was going to change things, for the best, and she could feel the change in her bones.
She smiled fondly as she saw the grin stretch to each ear on Thomas's face as her dad agreed with him.
She'd be ready to greet the new era, the breaking dawn.
A few weeks later, Thomas found himself shoveling supplies onto his trusty horse. The King had sent him to oversee the building of the docks which were almost complete. It was a rather quick construction, but with over half the nation's finest builders working on it, the constructing does tend to go rather quickly.
It was a harsh and hot two day ride, but it was well worth it. The docks were beautiful, impressive and grand. An inn, some shops and several houses were already being constructed as the finishing touches on the docks were being made. It was what could be called a futuristic boom town. Although Thomas expected this boom town to last a wee bit longer the three decades.
The docks were made of the finest wood, and the section that was finished already had boats anchored in and people shoveling goods off the boats. Wiping some sweat from his brow, Thomas looked around and smiled. The docks were great, and two weeks from now they should be completely finished at the builders would be sent to Westminster to hurry along the building of the clinic.
Thomas definitely couldn't wait for the dock to start filling the coffers. Two free clinics was a lot more healthcare then the peasants ever had, but there could soon be more and closer options. He had already informed the King that he would gladly donate all that he earns from his serfdoms to the funding of libraries. That was definitely a well-received announcement.
It wasn't as if he really needs his money to pay for much of anything. He generally hunted and foraged his own food. He didn't trust many people to handle his food anyway. He shook himself out of his thoughts and discussed the building of the docks, and future assignments with the Head builder Glutlachs, as the King directed him to.
Two days later he found himself back at the King's castle. Sure, he could stay at one of his serfdoms, but he found the company at Stephan's to be a lot more diverse. Besides he had another proposal of advancement to bring up, minutemen. He figured they could chop soldier budgets in half, if they kept the fully trained soldier to peasant ratio 25:1 yes, it would be less men that were trained to guard the city, but now that the inner conflict was over garrisoned troops wouldn't be as needed. Besides, if all boys who turned twelve were required to be trained for two months in basic soldiering, they'd have a fighter to call upon in times of need. A twelve hour fighting tune-up would be required once a month to all men older then twelve would be required. In short, many soldiers would be disbanded to raise pigs, and the soldier's budget would be greatly relieved, but there would still be just as many free defenders, if not more. Thomas saw it as a win-win. Who knows? If some peasant proves heroic enough, they could be knighted.
The rest of that soldier budget could go into building funds.
Yes, Thomas felt proud of himself for using futuristic history to his advantage. Thomas was smart enough to learn from histories mistakes and triumphs. Hopefully with the slowly rising number of clinics through the kingdom, the black plague will be prevented. Thomas busied himself with many other thing while waiting for the fruits of his labor to bloom. The booming docktown brought in more revenue then any other city ever had before, and yes Lord Freshen appeared to think that Thomas was the greatest person who ever lived. It was his holdings that Thomas increased the value of after all.
Apart from having to reject all the wedding proposals that the Lord's and Ladies of the lands were constantly sending him Thomas for the most part worked in solitude. Seeing as Stephen was already working on what Thomas had previously proposed, Thomas was pulling a page out of Da Vinci's book. He was working on inventions. Stuff like the better rowboat, a water mill (Anything was better then grinding foods via mortar and pestle), and many other extremely important devices that changed the future.
Most of the residing member of King Stephens castle knew better then to bother Thomas, Stephen and Marie included. He hadn't spoke to either of them for quite a few days. A predictament he was certain would change in a few days, seeing as his sixteenth birthday was coming up. It was rather hard to believe he had been there for two years now.
Sure enough, later that night, when he went to grab a bite to eat, there was a small party going on. He smiled as King Stephen flirted obnoxiously with the cat lady, while his wife kept to herself. Some things never change. Then he caught sight of Marie. He small smile morphed into a full blown grin.
The look on Thomas's face didn't go unnoticed by one man, well, merely a mature boy. A mature boy, with hurt in his heart, and the French language as knowledge. Somehow, Draco Calloway knew in his heart, that Thomas was responsible for his fathers death. The thirteen year old couldn't understand how the nice man would harm his father so. His father was nothing but nice to Thomas. Draco didn't want to kill Thomas, merlin no. Thomas had done wonders, and he knew Thomas still knew a many things that would turn England into the strongest country ever.
Draco just wanted to destroy his relation with the king. He wanted the king to hate Thomas. He wanted Thomas's life to be miserable. He wanted Thomas to be locked away forever, and only approached by the king bringing pain, and orders.
Judging by the way Thomas looked at Marie, Draco knew exactly how he was going to ruin Thomas. With that note stored away, Draco began scheming.