Neal's head was so sore. He put his hand to his head and brought it down to his line of sight. Blood! Where had that come from?

Suddenly there was a lot of noise around him, dogs barking and men shouting. Where was Peter? Neal looked up. A very tall familiar looking man was standing over him, Garrett Fowler. "Get up!" he shouted. Neal struggled to his feet. The man still towered over him, he must be a giant. "You ruined our hunt boy," a hand flew out and smacked into his cheek and he fell to the ground again. He looked around, since when did people in New York ride horses. A hand reached down and grabbed the front of his shirt pulling him to his feet again. He saw the hand go back ready to hit him again. He saw another hand grab it.

"Let the boy go," a familiar voice said. Boy, why was Peter calling him boy. He looked up. Even Peter looked much taller than him. What was going on? "I said let the boy go Sir Garrett." The hand released him.

"As you wish Lord Peter. I don't know why you're bothered about an urchin, probably a little thief."

"What's your name?" Peter asked.

"You know my name," Neal said. Peter laughed.

"Then remind me," he said.

"I'm Neal. I work with you."

Fowler laughed. "Addled as well," he said.

Peter looked down at him. "I think I'd know if you worked in my household. Where are your family?"

"I haven't got a family." Why was Peter asking these questions, he knew the answers to them? "I'm old enough to look after myself."

"Let the priests look after him, they take in foundlings," one of the men said.

"Go back to your home boy," Peter said.

"I'm not a boy," Neal said stamping his foot and glaring at Peter angrily.

"Well you look like one to me," Peter said.

Neal looked down at himself for the first time. His feet were small and so were his hands. What had happened? His clothes were different too. "I…"

"Your family?"

"I don't have one," he said quietly. He was on his own. No one here, wherever here was, knew him. "I don't have anywhere to go."

"Clinton," Peter said to a tall man beside him, "Take Neal back to the castle. I shall return shortly."

"Yes milord," he said and bowed.

Neal felt comfortable knowing that the people here were the same as the ones he knew in New York. Clinton led him over to a large horse. He got on and then put a hand down for Neal. He pulled him up behind him.

They set off down the wide path through the forest. The path widened and opened up to a large clearing. A large castle stood in the clearing. Neal's mouth opened wide. The place was huge and there were lots of people. They rode over the drawbridge into a large courtyard.

Jones lowered Neal to the ground and handed the reins of his horse to a man. "Follow me boy," he said. Neal kept close to him as he led him up stairs to a large room. A woman was sitting sewing. Neal's mouth gaped open. The woman was Elizabeth. She was dressed in a long blue dress and she looked beautiful. Her hair was longer.

"Who is this Jones?" she asked laying her sewing to one side.

"Neal. Lord Peter asked me to bring him back to the castle. He managed to spoil Sir Garrett's hunt."

"That's a shame," she said smiling. She turned to Neal. "Are you hungry?" He nodded. "Diana," she called. "Can you bring some food for Neal?" Diana left. "Come sit here," she said patting the seat.

"I'm dirty," he said.

"It's alright. Sit down." She poured him a cup of ale. Neal grimaced as he drank the ale. Diana set a platter of food in front of him. "Thank you Diana." She turned to Neal. "Eat up." He was very hungry. He ate the bread cheese and meat that was set in front of him. "Do you feel better?"

"Yes," he said.

"That's yes milady. This is Lady Elizabeth Burke," Diana said.

"Sorry," he said.

"Clinton, can you find some clean clothes for Neal?" El asked.

"I'll get a set of page's clothes."

"You'll need a bath," El said. "Diana if you prepare a tub in the small room beside Lord Peter's and my bed chamber."

"Do you own this castle?" Neal asked.

"My husband does. It was his mother's and she gave it to him."

The door opened. "The bath is ready, Lady Elizabeth."

"Go with Diana, Neal."

Neal looked horrified. "I can bath myself."

"I'm sure you can. Diana will show you where to go."

Neal followed her to a room. A large tub filled with water sat on the floor. Jones came in with a set of clothes and set them on a small dresser. "In you go," Diana said.

"Not with you here," Neal said.

"For goodness sake boy," Diana said.

"What is all the noise about?" El asked walking in.

"She won't go," Neal said. He knew he was whining but he couldn't help it

"Off you go Diana, I'll deal with this." Diana left. "Hurry up and bathe, Lord Peter will be back soon and it is not a good idea to keep him waiting." She left.

Neal looked longingly at the water. He did feel very dirty. He quickly undressed and got into the water. It felt wonderful. He washed quickly worried that either Diana or El would come in. He put on the long white shirt and the things that looked like tights. He tied them on. The he pulled a tunic over his head. He pulled on the boots.

The door swung open. Peter stood in the open door. "You look better. Follow me down to the hall. I want to speak with you."

Neal followed him down the stairs to a large hall. There were lots of people milling around. Peter led him into a smaller room at the side. Peter sat down in a chair by the window. Where do you come from?"

Neal knew he couldn't say New York, from what he had seen in pictures this looked like the fifteenth century. "I'm from York."

"You're a long way from home."

"I don't have anyone to worry about me. I can look after myself."

"Then you should know better than to wander through the forest on your own."

"How can I ask permission to go through your forest when I didn't know to ask?"

Peter looked annoyed at the answer. "You need to get a more respectful tone in your voice."

"Do I have your permission to go through your forest? As soon as you give it I'll leave."

"And where do you plan to go? Peter asked.

"Anywhere I want. You don't own me."

"I beg to differ. I can do what I like with you. This is my land." Neal was stunned. This did not sound like the Peter he knew.

"Peter stop frightening the boy," El said entering the room.

"This boy could have got himself killed today. He was lucky we called the dogs off. And Sir Garrett was not amused that he spoilt his fun."

"But he didn't. Sit down Neal. What do you want to do?" Neal shrugged. He had no idea what he wanted to do. He knew no one else here. "What are you good at?"

"I can draw and paint."

"Can you read and write?"

"Yes."

"Have you been trained to use any weapons?" Peter asked.

"No." He couldn't mention how good a shot he was with a gun.

"Were you intended for the church?" El asked.

"No. My parents wanted me to be educated."

"You can serve in our household as a page," El said.

"What does a page do?"

"You'll be told what your duties are. Jones will take you to the page's quarters. Mark is the head page. He will tell you what to do." He turned towards the door. "Jones, have Neal entered as a page. Show him to his quarters and tell Mark to give him his duties."

"Yes milord."

"And Neal," Peter said. "Your parents obviously wanted you to be educated so I will arrange for you to take lessons with Father Jerome." Neal grimaced. School again he thought.

Jones said, "Come with me." He led him through the many corridors and stairs. Neal was glad of his very good memory. The castle was like a rabbit warren. They stopped outside a large wooden door. "This is the page's dormitory." Jones opened the door and went over to a taller boy of about 16. "This is Neal, Lord Peter wants him to be entered as a page. Give him his duties and a place to sleep."

Mark looked Neal up and down. "Where are your family from?" he asked.

"York."

Mark sneered, "You're the guttersnipe that spoilt the hunt. What is Lord Peter thinking making you a page?"

"Maybe you should ask him," Neal answered. Mark's hand flew out and smacked his cheek.

"I am the senior page here. You will speak to me properly. There's a bed over there by the window. You can have it. And don't dawdle, we all have to serve at table. Be in the great hall in 5 minutes." Then he left.

Neal made his way downstairs. Tables had been set up in the hall. He had no idea what he was supposed to do. "This is your table," a boy dressed in a page's uniform told him.

Neal stood and looked around. "Best hurry up," a voice said. Neal turned quickly a smile on his face.

"Mozzie!"

"How do you know my name?" he asked suspiciously. Same old Mozzie.

"I heard someone call it," Neal said. "Please tell me what I am supposed to do."

He handed him a large jug. "Fill up everyone's goblets with this. Go on."

Neal hurried to fill them all. Then he had to help bring the large platters of food to the table. These people knew how to eat.

He was nearly asleep by the end of the meal. "Go to bed boy," a voice said. He looked up, Peter was standing not far from him. "The other pages left ages ago. Did no one tell you?"

Not wanting to cause any trouble he shook his head," I think I heard someone shout but I was so busy."

Neal ran up the stairs desperate to get to his bed. He made his way through the beds and sat on his. The pallet fell to the floor. Laughter reverberated around the room. Neal stood up and tried to fix it but the legs were all broken.

"Your family will have to pay for that," Mark said, "Oh I forgot you don't have any."

Neal ignored him and lay down. He felt like crying. He had never felt so alone, not even when he had been in prison. He wanted to be himself again.

It felt as if he had no sooner gone to sleep than he was being woken again. "Your job is to fill the water barrel in the kitchen. Hurry up."

Neal made his way down. The cook showed him where the buckets were kept, "The well is in the yard. Where are the others?" she asked.

"It's just me," he replied.

"It'll take you all day to fill that. Usually five boys are sent and they fill it up before breakfast."

"I'll do my best," he said.

By lunchtime he had managed to nearly fill it. His arms felt as if they were about to drop off. "Here dearie," the cook called. "Have some soup and bread. You've done very well."

He ate it quickly and made his way back. Two other pages were standing by the well. "Too much for you, baby?"

"I'm fine," he said. He filled the bucket once more and turned to go back in. One of them stuck out his foot and Neal tumbled to the ground. The water went all over him. "Leave me alone," he shouted at them as they laughed.

"Neal," a voice called. The other pages disappeared. "Father Jerome is waiting."

"I have to finish this. Tell him I'm busy." The other boy looked shocked but went away. He filled the bucket again and went to the kitchen.

When he got back an old man with a mane of long white hair was standing at the well. "My name is Father Jerome. You must be Neal."

"I am."

"It appears you are too busy to join my class today."

"I had to fill the water barrel in the kitchen."

"With no help?" he asked sceptically. Neal was about to answer when three other pages arrived.

"We've been helping too," they said, "but Neal is clumsy. He keeps spilling the water." Neal glared at them.

"Change your clothes and then meet me in the schoolroom."

"Don't bother," Neal said.

"I believe Lord Peter requested that your education be continued. Be there in 5 minutes." The man strode off.

Neal went to the dormitory to wash his hands. He had no change of clothes so he brushed his tunic with his hands. He went out into the corridor. Jones was there. "Can you show me where the schoolroom is?" he asked.

"Follow me." He led him along the corridor to a large door. Neal knocked and went in.

The room was large and had lots of wooden tables. Many of the pages were sitting at the tables. Father Jerome stared at him. "I thought I told you to change. We'll have none of your uncouth ways here, boy."

Neal had had enough. "I didn't ask to join your classes. You can tell Lord Peter that I will not be coming back." Neal made to turn round.

The old man's staff hit the floor with a loud thump. "You dare to speak to me in such a way, come here." He pointed to a spot in front of him. The other boys looked stunned..

"NO!" Neal shouted and spun around only to run into Peter.

"Having trouble, Father Jerome?"

"This brat says he doesn't want to be in my class. And look at his clothes."

Peter looked down at Neal. "I didn't have any others to change into," Neal said.

"That was my fault, Father," he said. "I should have had Jones give him a second set. As for his other behaviour, I shall deal with that." He looked at Neal. "Come with me." He walked out but Neal just stood where he was.

Peter turned round and grabbed his arm. He pulled him along the corridor and went into a small room. He shut the door. "Not a good start Neal. You will be attending the schoolroom every day. No excuses." Peter sat down on the chair. "Come here," he pointed to the spot in front of his legs.

"No!" He looked at the door but knew he would never make it before being caught.

"NOW!"

Neal walked over. "I had work to do in the kitchen, it wasn't my fault that I was late and dirty."

"You were rude to Father Jerome. You will not speak to him like that again. Understand?"

"Yes but I don't…."

"You are not being given a choice boy. I decide what happens in my household. You need to learn to have respect for your elders. And I intend to teach you." He took Neal's arm and pulled him over his knee.

"No!" Neal objected. This was so embarrassing. He felt his tunic being lifted before Peter's hand hit his backside. He gasped. He grabbed Peter's legs as his hand descended 5 more times each time harder than the one before. Neal was then flipped back up to his feet to face Peter. He looked down to hide the tears that were dripping down his cheeks.

Peter handed him a cloth,"Wipe your face." He put his hand under Neal's chin and made him look at him. "I know this is all new to you but you will learn how to behave. You will go back and apologise to Father Jerome."

Neal went back along to the schoolroom. He couldn't believe what Peter had done to him. He knew the other pages would know as well but he had to go in. He did not want to make Peter any angrier with him than he already was.

He went over to Father Jerome. "I apologise."

"Sit over there," he pointed to a seat by the window. Neal could see the other boys smirking as he sat down carefully on the seat. Father Jerome started to speak again. Neal kept his head down.

"Are you listening boy?" he said to Neal.

Neal looked up, "Yes sir."

"Translate this." Father Jerome said something in Latin. Neal translated it into English thanking Mozzie as he did. Mozzie had made him learn Latin when he was writing it in documents that he was forging.

"Very good," Father Jerome said. "Now translate this into Latin. Neal was able to do that as well. He saw approval in the Father's eyes. The lesson continued.

An hour later Father Jerome let them leave. "Wait Neal," he said. The others left smiling hoping that Neal was in more trouble. "You're a clever boy, your parents must have sent you to a good tutor. It would be a shame to waste that education. You could be a valuable asset to the estate when you are older."

"Can I go now?" Neal asked.

"Off you go."

He went back to the kitchen as no one had given him any other duties. The other pages had gone. "Have some stew," the cook said. She handed him a piece of bread and a plate of stew. When he'd finished he kept filling the barrel and then went to the dormitory.

"You missed sword practice," Mark said.

"I can't do two things at once." Mark's hand flew out and slapped his face.

"You do not speak to me like that." He threw some clothes at him. "These are for you." Neal took them and set them on a small shelf beside his pallet that was still on the floor.

"Right everyone, down to the great hall," Mark said.

Neal was exhausted by the time he got to bed that night. He lay down on the bed and fell asleep.

He was first up the next morning and was just passing Mark's bed when he said," Trying to impress Lord Peter?"

"No. I just couldn't sleep. I wish you would just leave me alone."

"You'll get your wish. Go to the North tower. Lord Peter wants to know the minute you see Lord Reece's retinue approaching."

Neal made his way to the tower. No one else was there. He laughed. Mark thought he was punishing him but instead Neal enjoyed being away from them. Lots of carts were entering the city but no sign of any flags. He sat down and watched the road. Neal knew the people were arriving for the fair that was to be held on Saturday. The kitchen staff had talked about nothing else. The sun rose up making it much warmer.

He heard a noise behind him. He turned and said," Mozzie."

"I noticed you weren't at breakfast. I brought you some porridge."

"Thanks. Mark sent me here to watch for Lord Reece."

"Are you going to the fair?" Mozzie asked.

"If I'm allowed."

"All of the household get to attend." He noticed Neal had finished. "I'd better get back."

Neal took up his position again.

TBC