present yourself in a more appropriate fashion.”
“Present myself? I was coming home!”
“Master—”
“Don’t ‘Master’ me! Do you know how long a walk it was? I’ve been rained on, chased by dogs, half frozen! I’ve been sleeping in barns and ditches for three weeks!”
George reached for him, “Thomas…”
Thomas shook him off. “No! All I wanted was to see my family. Yes, I look like a vagrant, but I can clean up quick enough!”
“Which is what your father wishes you to do,” said Gavin, using his best school-master tone. “And when you have done so, you may present yourself to your family and their guests. He suggests tomorrow night. At dinner.”
Thomas grabbed his bag and started for the door. Gavin took two quick steps and got in front of him. Thomas gritted his teeth to keep from shouting. “Get out of my way.”
“Please do not attempt to go home tonight, Master Thomas.”
Thomas tried to push past him, and Gavin stepped in his way again. “Thomas, he will have you turned away at the door.”
Thomas stared at Gavin in shock. In that moment, he realized that his old tutor’s pinched expression was for John Flarety. Gavin was angry, all right, but not at Thomas. Instead, the thin, awkward man put a hand on Thomas’s shoulder and lowered his voice. “Your father left instructions with Brian, Master Thomas. You’re not to be admitted into the house tonight.” He squeezed Thomas’s shoulder gently. “I’m sorry.”
Thomas searched for words, but none came out. Everything around him seemed to fade.
“Take care of the lad,” Thomas heard Gavin say, probably to George and Eileen. The school-master tone was gone, replaced by concern. “Please. The matter will be resolved by tomorrow night, I’m certain.”
He gave a short bow, then turned on his heel, lifted his cloak higher, and carefully threaded his way out of the inn.
George’s hand replaced Gavin’s on Thomas’s shoulder; led him back to his chair. Thomas sank into it, stunned.
“This isn’t right,” said Eileen. “He should be welcoming Thomas home.”
“He must have a reason,” George kept his hand on Thomas’s shoulder. “It’s not like him, at all. Even when he and Da fight, he’s better behaved than this.” He stopped, then amended, “Well, usually.”
“I don’t understand,” Thomas said. A tremor started in his body, and he ruthlessly suppressed it. “What have I done?”
“Come home with us,” said George. “Da will surely let you stay for the night.”
“Aye, he will,” said Eileen. “He and Mum will want to see you anyway, so why not tonight?”
“Come on,” said George. “You can have supper at our house.”
Thomas shook his head, trying to clear away his confusion. “No. No, we eat here. And we drink here.” He looked at the mug of beer before him, then picked it up and drained half of it before setting it down. “I’m here with my friends and tonight we eat and we drink and we celebrate. Tomorrow, I’ll get myself cleaned up and dressed up and go home.”
“The forge will heat water faster than anything else around here,” said George. “We’ll get you a hot bath and you can show up at your father’s door looking better than any of his guests.”
“Good.” Thomas drained the mug. “Tomorrow, I go home,” he said, gesturing for the bartender to bring more drinks. “And then I find out what’s going on here.”
***
The sun set long before Thomas led his two friends, stumbling and laughing, out of the woods and to the old grain mill with its waterwheel and the stream above, and its deep pond below. “There!” he declared. “Found it!”
“And after only a quarter-hour of looking,” laughed Eileen. “You missed the path entirely!”
“True,” agreed Thomas. “But I found it!”
They had sat in the tavern for hours, drinking far more than was good for them, and eating far more than they should. Thomas spent his silver liberally, feeding his friends
“Present myself? I was coming home!”
“Master—”
“Don’t ‘Master’ me! Do you know how long a walk it was? I’ve been rained on, chased by dogs, half frozen! I’ve been sleeping in barns and ditches for three weeks!”
George reached for him, “Thomas…”
Thomas shook him off. “No! All I wanted was to see my family. Yes, I look like a vagrant, but I can clean up quick enough!”
“Which is what your father wishes you to do,” said Gavin, using his best school-master tone. “And when you have done so, you may present yourself to your family and their guests. He suggests tomorrow night. At dinner.”
Thomas grabbed his bag and started for the door. Gavin took two quick steps and got in front of him. Thomas gritted his teeth to keep from shouting. “Get out of my way.”
“Please do not attempt to go home tonight, Master Thomas.”
Thomas tried to push past him, and Gavin stepped in his way again. “Thomas, he will have you turned away at the door.”
Thomas stared at Gavin in shock. In that moment, he realized that his old tutor’s pinched expression was for John Flarety. Gavin was angry, all right, but not at Thomas. Instead, the thin, awkward man put a hand on Thomas’s shoulder and lowered his voice. “Your father left instructions with Brian, Master Thomas. You’re not to be admitted into the house tonight.” He squeezed Thomas’s shoulder gently. “I’m sorry.”
Thomas searched for words, but none came out. Everything around him seemed to fade.
“Take care of the lad,” Thomas heard Gavin say, probably to George and Eileen. The school-master tone was gone, replaced by concern. “Please. The matter will be resolved by tomorrow night, I’m certain.”
He gave a short bow, then turned on his heel, lifted his cloak higher, and carefully threaded his way out of the inn.
George’s hand replaced Gavin’s on Thomas’s shoulder; led him back to his chair. Thomas sank into it, stunned.
“This isn’t right,” said Eileen. “He should be welcoming Thomas home.”
“He must have a reason,” George kept his hand on Thomas’s shoulder. “It’s not like him, at all. Even when he and Da fight, he’s better behaved than this.” He stopped, then amended, “Well, usually.”
“I don’t understand,” Thomas said. A tremor started in his body, and he ruthlessly suppressed it. “What have I done?”
“Come home with us,” said George. “Da will surely let you stay for the night.”
“Aye, he will,” said Eileen. “He and Mum will want to see you anyway, so why not tonight?”
“Come on,” said George. “You can have supper at our house.”
Thomas shook his head, trying to clear away his confusion. “No. No, we eat here. And we drink here.” He looked at the mug of beer before him, then picked it up and drained half of it before setting it down. “I’m here with my friends and tonight we eat and we drink and we celebrate. Tomorrow, I’ll get myself cleaned up and dressed up and go home.”
“The forge will heat water faster than anything else around here,” said George. “We’ll get you a hot bath and you can show up at your father’s door looking better than any of his guests.”
“Good.” Thomas drained the mug. “Tomorrow, I go home,” he said, gesturing for the bartender to bring more drinks. “And then I find out what’s going on here.”
***
The sun set long before Thomas led his two friends, stumbling and laughing, out of the woods and to the old grain mill with its waterwheel and the stream above, and its deep pond below. “There!” he declared. “Found it!”
“And after only a quarter-hour of looking,” laughed Eileen. “You missed the path entirely!”
“True,” agreed Thomas. “But I found it!”
They had sat in the tavern for hours, drinking far more than was good for them, and eating far more than they should. Thomas spent his silver liberally, feeding his friends
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