He awoke the next morning from a dreamless sleep and told his new friend that he had something to do in the nearby town. He really just wanted more time to think, without even the interruption of conversation or concentration on work. He thought walking around among strangers would be as good as being alone. So right after breakfast he set off in the direction of the small town, which he had gone through at night a few weeks earlier before meeting Tory’s people. It had been dark and he had had no interest in stopping, so he had taken very little notice of it. Now he was a bit curious to see firsthand how Roth’s non-farming subjects lived, and he felt it would be a good atmosphere in which to contemplate a plan to get to Roth.
The people and the town would serve as inspiration. When he crested a small hill and the town came into view, it was as if he was seeing it for the first time. Most notably, it was larger than he had realized, because it was wider than it was long, and therefore when he had walked straight through on the cross country road he had passed through very little of it. Now as he looked down he saw many streets and alleys he could roam while he got things straight in his mind. To be on the safe side, he dropped his small money pouch into his shirt and tucked it under his belt, so that the few coins he carried there would make no noise when he walked. The small rise on which he stood was about three hundred yards from the town. Beyond it he could also make out some orchard land and Roth’s manor just past the trees. Behind the manor was the beginning of the hills, rocky at the bottom, wooded further up. From the nearest divide in the hills ran the vibrant stream that watered the manor valley as well as the town. In the event of a rebellion Roth could at least temporarily dam the stream and cut off the town’s water supply, unless they somehow prevented him, but Roth’s access to the stream was so wide, could they really expect to keep that from happening? And how many might be lost in the attempt? This assuming that the townspeople would even be interested in removing Roth from power. The farmers drew their water from a large well, and had stores of food too, so that Roth could not threaten them with hunger or thirst. But would they have the numbers for the battle without at least some assistance from the town? And he was sure that the farmers’ lack of weapons and fighting skills would be a serious problem. He hoped to find the inhabitants of the town more capable in these areas than the farmers.
As he entered the outskirts of the town, Justin noted the same daub on wood construction of the town buildings as that of the farmers’ homes. And as he continued up the thoroughfare he also noted the same poverty, the dingy worn clothing, needed repairs to buildings gone undone, and the tools and utensils obviously mended many times over. He also studied the faces of the men and women. They seemed to have the same air of resignation about them as the farmers. There seemed no spark of resentment or defiance about them, which would be absolutely necessary to incite a rebellion. But perhaps it just didn’t show itself. If only a seed of discontent lay buried beneath the surface, it could, after all, be cultivated.
Justin walked without actual purpose up one lane after another. The later the morning got, the more populated and noisy the streets became. Walking slowly he heard, without seeming to, the day-to-day conversations of the townspeople, from the aged to the very young. And though their talk ran the spectrum of mundane concerns, and the range of normal human emotions, including many complaints the root of which Justin knew to be Roth, he heard no open criticism or slander. After a couple of hours the sun, which had at first felt good on his back, began to cause his shirt to stick to him and Justin looked around for a place to rest. He immediately spied a strip of shade under the low hanging edge of a thatched roof. There were no windows on the wall beneath the eve, and the wall formed one side of a dead end alley, so he gratefully lowered himself into the cool spot and leaned back to rest. The cool daub wall of the building felt good on his back and before two minutes had passed Justin felt his eyes beginning to close of their own accord. He saw no reason that he shouldn’t take a tiny nap, so he let himself drift in and out of consciousness for the next few minutes. He would awake to some nearby sound to find he’d been dreaming of the fire in the field, or the evening campfires of the farmers, or the battle in which his friend was shamed. The last sound to awaken him surprised him into a completely alert state. It was the sound of a young man swearing and spitting out the name of Roth. Justin jerked his head around to see who had spoken. He saw a large, slightly surly and very dirty looking youth looking darkly past him and into the street. He turned to follow the gaze and saw Roth and two of his henchmen sitting on horses, talking. When Justin turned back to the youth he found he had crossed to the other side of the alley and was carefully edging toward the street never letting his eyes leave Roth. Justin could see that the young man’s intention was to get out of the alley without Roth seeing him. But Justin desperately wanted a chance to talk to him. He was the first person Justin had encountered who had shown animosity for Roth. He realized that he had to act quickly before the youth got away, but he didn’t want to attract Roth’s attention any more than the other. He hesitated for a moment trying to reason out what to do. But the young man was stealthily moving away from him and he knew he had no way of finding him again. He had to act, so he rocked forward onto his feet intending to creep across the alley, catch up with the other and speak to him. But his feet had gone to sleep while he had sat resting, and as soon as the weight of his body hit them, they turned to jelly, buckled under him and let him collapse onto his knees in the dirt of the alley. The sudden movement caught the attention of Roth, who at first looked without interest at Justin, but then noticed the creeping man and yelled “Ho, thief” in his direction. The man cursed again and bolted for the open end of the alley.
Roth, seeing his intent quickly shot an arrow within inches of his head to stick into the corner post of the nearby building. The young man stumbled, fell and froze where he was.
Roth moved his horse close to him and said in mock politeness, “If you’re not in too big a hurry, I’d like to have a word with you.” The youth was sullenly silent. “Good, good,” Roth continued, “now worm, about helping yourself to the surplus apples in my south orchard.”
“Indeed, I am sorry, but I’ve fallen on especially rough times of late, and being overcome with hunger I made free of three of your apples. It was as wrong as can be. I see that now, and will gladly pay you the moment fortune smiles on me, which I judge to be soon, as Morell, the smithy has some work for me in another day, so he tells…”
“Silence! Faugh! Must I have your pitiful life’s story in addition to your robbery? A few hours in the stockade might teach you when to hold your tongue and take your just punishment.”
Unable to stand it any longer, Justin jumped to his feet and burst out, “Just punishment?! Nothing about the way you treat these people is fair!”
Roth turned in surprise and noticed Justin for the first time. “And might I inquire the name of my self-appointed judge?” he sneered.
Justin quailed for a moment, but then became infuriated when a henchman swatted him in the back of the head with a riding crop and demanded, “Tell the lord your name, filth.”
He answered, “You are not my lord, and my name is Justin.”
Roth laughed loudly. “Oh, ‘Justin.’ Indeed, I am in dire straits now, for my judge is Justice, himself,” he said with a sneer. “Should I throw myself now on the mercy of the court, men?” Roth’s companions laughed raucously. Roth then became furious. “And to what hole do you crawl at day’s end to deny I’m your lord, when I rule all the land within a fortnight’s journey in any direction? You would do well to learn from your friend here how to behave in my presence, even if he did try to escape it.” And he spat on the dust-covered back of the young man, who was still cowering on his hands and knees in the street, looking at the ground. “I have more important business today, however, than ridding this street of vermin. I understand that the Lord of Atley is in town with a generous gift to offer me, so that I will postpone my plans to take over all that he owns for a little longer. I will deal with you two at my leisure.” He leveled a kick into the side of Justin’s head, and delivered a stinging lash from his riding crop to the thief’s back, as he turned his horse and rode away at a trot.
When the sound of the horses’ hooves had diminished, the cowering youth looked up warily at their retreat, and then inquisitively toward Justin. “My name is Wyatt. I don’t know you, and I know by sight at least most everyone around here. But you seem to have some knowledge of Roth. Are you from Marsden or Strom?”
“No, a bit further away,” Justin replied offering the still crouching youth his hand.
As he rose Wyatt probed again, “Then how do you know that Roth is unfair? I might indeed be a vile thief.”
“I know a little of Roth because I’ve been stopping with the cattlemen for the past fortnight. But since we seem to be free to interrogate each other, may I inquire why you call him simply ‘Roth’ when everyone else seems to feel he has a right to his title? You were certainly obsequious enough when he was present.”
“I simply like breathing and walking about,” Wyatt replied, his voice thick with resentment. “The errand I was about to be on can wait a bit. Would you like to come in, stranger?” Wyatt asked as he indicated a small, low doorway in the windowless wall behind him, which Justin hadn’t even noticed before though he’d been sitting almost across from it. He wanted to speak more with the young man, so he stepped through the door Wyatt had opened and down a couple of steps. Wyatt was right behind him and quickly closed the door. It was at first so dark compared with the bright outside light, that Justin could see nothing but shadowy shapes in the room. They resolved themselves into crude furnishings as his eyes adjusted, and Wyatt reached up, unhooked and swung back a hinged board that had been covering a rectangular slit in the ceiling about two inches wide and a foot long, through which a dim kind of daylight filtered. “Believe me, if I could speak to Roth as he deserves and live, I would do it and more,” Wyatt stated picking up the conversation right where they had left off in the street, and setting two cups on the table which he filled with cool water from a crock in the corner. “Water is still free from the spring so I can afford this hospitality. I’m sure it won’t be as soon as Roth thinks to design a way to charge for it.”
“You are the first person that I have heard speak so critically of him.”
“Most of the people around here are loyal to the King to the point that they think anything said against Roth would be the same as disrespect to His Majesty. There are a few who will speak up a little when they’ve stayed a while in the tavern,” he jerked his thumb up toward the ceiling as he said this, then continued, “but in the morning they are quiet again.”
“It has galled me how the farmers let Roth abuse them ever since I stopped here. The men of my clan would never put up with such tyranny.”
“Really? Is your landlord equitable then? I have heard some are.”
“We do not have landlords. In my great great-grandfather’s time when they began to tax unfairly we overthrew them and began to rule ourselves.”
“Is this true?” Wyatt demanded excitedly. “Do you come, then, from the other side of the forest across the river? I had always thought those stories to be fancy. Are they actually true, then?”
“I can’t know what stories you have heard, but we do indeed rule ourselves. There are no landlords. It’s not easy of course. We work very hard and have to protect our property ourselves, and we have no one to fall back on in lean years, but we feel our independence is worth these troubles.”
“The idea is captivating for me. But what are you doing around here, then?”
Justin thought perhaps he had found the first of the rebels he was seeking. “Let me answer you that another time, please. I’d like to ask you something that I came here to learn today. Would it not be better for you and these people to live free of Roth’s tyranny? Would you not like to live under the rules of true justice agreed upon by all, instead of under one man’s cruelty and selfishness? Because I tell you truly that it could easily be achieved if the people would unite against Roth.”
“Well, my friend, I tell you truly that is a pretty big ‘if.’ Don’t think I haven’t dreamed of giving Roth his due, but I’m one, and I don’t know if you could find another like mind in the entire land.”
“Let us at least give them the chance. I think perhaps they could be convinced, especially if they hear it from one who has lived free from lordship. I would like to try talking to them.”
“Well, I certainly won’t stand in your way, but have you any other ideas? I have no confidence in this one, and would as soon kill the idea in my own mind now, as be more disappointed later.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean I have racked my brain more times than I care to remember on how to defeat Roth. I thought perhaps with your background you might have ideas that would never occur to me. I’m talking about a way that one, or maybe two, could successfully get to Roth alone, do the job for the people and then let them join in from there.”
Justin, suddenly wary, darted a quick glance at the other. Yes, his suspicion was confirmed. The youth had certainly meant an assassination. It was there in his eyes. “Well, Wyatt, to be honest with you, that doesn’t seem exactly fair to Roth.” Wyatt snorted in disgust and turned away. “Wait, wait, I know. I didn’t say that Roth deserved fairness. I know that he doesn’t.”
“No, he doesn’t!” Wyatt interrupted. “But you don’t really know it, not like I do, not like we who live here know it. We know it every minute of our lives. Everything we do, say, have…” Wyatt struggled for his next words, “…everything we are, even, is subject to his approval. Uagh, no, you don’t know!” He almost spat the last words.
Justin waited for Wyatt to reign in his emotions. The young man seemed close to tears. His own indignation seemed to pale in comparison to Wyatt’s, but the reaction had served to strengthen his resolve. He even imagined that he could incorporate Wyatt’s feelings into his own. “You’re right, of course,” Justin continued after a moment. “I just think that if the people rise together against him, it’s as if he has a chance to comply with them or withdraw. I wouldn’t expect him to do either, and I really think it will have to end in killing him. I just think it should be done honorably. That’s all.”
“But if they won’t?” Wyatt’s voice was like ice-cold water poured down the back of Justin’s neck and the challenge was unmistakable. “What then, if they won’t? And, believe me, they won’t. We return to the way things are. And so much for your true justice.” His voice had become flat and resigned by the time he finished speaking.
“Well, why don’t we cross that bridge when we come to it?” Justin suggested, knowing even as he said it that it sounded weak and noncommittal. “Let us give the people a chance.” In a matter of seconds Wyatt’s face took on a blank, stony attitude, as if he’d just been condemned. Without even thinking Justin added, “If they won’t rally, we could perhaps find an honorable way to deal with him ourselves.” As soon as he’d said it he wondered why. He truly wanted to help these people rise up and defeat Roth, even lead them. But why would he volunteer to take it on practically alone? And did they even deserve a deliverance that they weren’t willing to work for themselves? But here was Wyatt. That was why he’d said it. Because this one wanted it so badly, and saw it like he did himself. Justin could see that in Wyatt’s face.
“All right,” replied Wyatt grimly.
“Very well,” said Justin. “Where I am from we usually seal a deal with food. Is there anywhere near that I could buy us a bite of something? I have a little money.”
“There are the baker and the dairy in the next street,” Wyatt answered quickly, “but don’t feel you have to bestow your charity on me because of what happened out in the street. I shift for myself well enough even without Roth’s apples.”
“I don’t feel that I have to, but let’s go. I’m hungry myself.”
A few moments later found them back in the dusky dwelling hungrily eating strong white cheese on crusty brown bread. When they had washed the food down with another cup from Wyatt’s water jar, an awkward silence began to fill the room. They had said all that there was to say for the moment. Justin rose to leave before the void grew too large. “I will return day after tomorrow and let you know if I have been able to convince any farmers to join us. We can then with their help perhaps recruit more from the town.”
“All right, then. However it turns out, I am glad to have met you, Justin.”
“And I, likewise,” rejoined Justin, and with that he took his leave of Wyatt’s room and of the town.
As he walked back up the road he had time to consider how he would go about approaching the farmers. The more he thought about it, he became convinced that a good time to broach the subject might be as they began work on the burned field. He would have the advantage of a very powerful reminder of the problem. They would not be able to refute the unjust treatment of Roth if they were standing in the field he had burned two days before. Of course they would be in a large group, and it could be easier for them to band together in opposition to his plan. It could be easier to convince one or two alone. But if he could get them thinking in his direction, then having them in a group could cause the reluctant ones to fall in with the plan. But what was the plan? Justin continued to contemplate that problem all the way back. First they would need to organize their numbers. Then there would be the need for weapons and probably some training. This would take a few days and it would all need to be kept secret. That would be the tricky part. These people were not naturally given to secrecy. Nor to scheming he ruefully admitted to himself.
When Justin got back to Tory’s home he spent the remainder of the day securing some boards that he had noticed to be loosened by the wind on the west side of the barn. It was work that his hands could do without any help from his brain. That left his mind free to contemplate how he would approach the farmers the next morning. Tory found him still there at sunset. “So this is where you’ve been hiding. Mother says it is almost time to eat supper. Thanks for fixing these. My father has been reminding me about them for weeks, but I hadn’t taken time to do it yet.”
“Do not speak of it. I should try and make myself a little useful after all the hospitality your family has extended me. Do we have time to finish now, or will it have to wait until tomorrow?”
“Mother was just milking, so we can finish.” Tory dropped down beside Justin and began on the next loose board. They worked quickly and quietly. Justin sneaked a sideways look at the open, guileless face of his friend who was bent over his task with obviously no other care at the moment. One couldn’t tell from looking at Tory that a tragic injustice had been done the day before. His face was completely untroubled, his mind apparently only on the task at hand. As he hammered the last nail into the board in front of him, Justin debated whether or not to talk to Tory about his plot before unveiling it to the farmers. Tory also was finishing the board in front of him. When he had put the last nail in, he looked to both sides at the barn wall, stood up, and turning to Justin said, “Well, that’s done. Thank you. We’d better wash and head for the house now. If we make mother wait too long she’ll give us a scolding.” As they headed for the house Justin decided not to broach the subject until the next morning with the entire group.
