When he awoke the next morning the sun was already high in a perfect early autumn sky. Skipping breakfast and chiding himself for oversleeping, he hurried toward the fields where he knew the men would be raking hay together all that day. They had never asked or even seemed to expect him to help while he stayed with them, but seemed to regard him as an honored guest. He had pondered this often but never figured it out. Nevertheless he felt obliged to try and help out when he could. After all, he ate their food and slept in their barn. When the field came into sight as he turned a bend in the road, he was surprised to see the men gathered in a small knot at the edge of a field instead of scattered out working. Then he noticed Roth and two of his henchmen mounted on horses facing the group of men. Justin ran harder to get there and learn what was happening. He arrived a few seconds later, so out of breath that he couldn’t speak, but stood panting heavily at the back of the group.
Straining to hear over the noise of his own breath, and the blood pounding through his head, he heard Roth berating one of the farmers.
“You are a liar as well as a thief!” yelled Roth at a man with a mottled complexion called Breck. “To think that you have the audacity to maintain such a story when you should be begging my forgiveness.”
“I do apologize for any offense I have caused you, Lord Roth, but I speak the truth when I say that I did not know you expected a tribute from my vegetable patch. I am a cattle farmer, as you know, and I am always prompt and exact with my tax to you. The root garden was just an idea of mine to help with the feeding of my family, not for sale. With the care of my herd I would never have time to farm a produce crop like the men on the other side of the town. We barely have time to raise what is necessary for the upkeep of the livestock.”
“Still you refuse to admit your crime! I have heard enough of this insult! We are through here.” Roth reached into his quiver and armed his bow as he spoke. “I will teach you to steal from me and then lie about it, you pig.” In one swift motion he touched an arrow, tipped in some black substance, to the torch carried by one of his henchmen. It burst into flame and he fired it into the man’s field. “Let that be a lesson to the rest of you thieves and sluggards,” he growled as he jerked his horse’s head around and spurred him away, followed by his men.
Justin stood gaping in disbelief as he saw the fire begin in the middle of the field of hay, cut and dried and ready to be taken into the waiting barn. As he listened to the sound of the horses’ hooves disappearing in the distance, the men immediately burst into speech and action, bent on containing and extinguishing the blaze. Justin waited dumbly for directions and then moved as if in a daze as he worked with the rest to put out the fire. They ran to surround the burning area and began to work inward, beating it with tools and clothes to put it out as quickly as they could. When they had succeeded in containing the fire in a circle that no longer moved out toward the surrounding fields, some of them began to run for more help and water. Soon everyone around was involved in fighting it. Some men continued beating it while others, along with women and children, ran back and forth carrying water. It wasn’t long until it was out, and everyone was dropping to rest on the unburned golden hay around the blackened center of the destroyed field. Tory’s father was the first to speak to the man called Breck, “Our livestock may eat a bit leaner this winter, but yours will not starve,” to which the entire group heartily agreed. Justin sat wondering at a people that would allow themselves to be treated so. It was wrong and he did not know how long it had been so. Well, it could not go on. They couldn’t let it. But he knew that they would. But what if he could do something? Perhaps if approached correctly and very carefully, and cast in the right light, this would be enough to wake them up. Maybe if someone planted the spark of the idea in their minds, as Roth had just planted one of fire in Breck’s hay, and fanned it, they could be convinced to do something about Roth. As he sat considering these things, his thoughts began to arrange themselves into arguments and to take the form of a speech to the farmers igniting them to the cause of bringing Roth to justice. The longer he thought about it the more sense it made to him. He would talk to them. Maybe all they needed was someone to help them to see the incredible unfairness of the entire situation. He was young, but for some reason he seemed to have their respect. Why should he not speak to them? After all he had more experience in waging battle than any of them. He would just have to be tactful in his address, careful not to let them think that he was usurping leadership. He considered these things as he worked with the others until they returned to their homes for the midday meal, but he didn’t mention it to Tory yet. He needed to plan more. If he didn’t approach it just right the first time, there would probably be no second chance. He wanted Tory’s input, but he wanted to be sure of his own position and how to present it first.
