Of whot?' The charge didn't seem all that pressing to John, certainly not pressing enough to deter him from proceeding home.
'Of a chicken, me Lord.'
'Of a chicken?!' replied John, in a voice dripping with contempt.
'From 'is neighbor, me Lord.'
'Well, if you 'ave 'ad 'im for a fortnight, one more night will nay 'arm 'im. I will see 'im tomorrow.' And with that John turned his horse and nudged his side.
'Me Lord?' the sheriff called after John. He was obviously surprised by the abrupt end of the conversation and didn't appreciate being dismissed so lightly.
'Tomorrow!' said John without looking over his shoulder.
John admired the fields as he rode the short distance from Stamford to his home. Many of those fields were filled with sheep and the sheep had thick wool. That wool was going to be a valuable commodity in the near future. He had already secured buyers for all the wool that he could produce in the months ahead.
The park that surrounded the estate had been expanded in the last several years and the new hedges and gardens were growing well. The expansion of the park was completed at the same time that the house was also expanded. An entire wing had been added on the south of the house. It contained a large hall that also was filled with windows to catch the rays of the suns. The vantage point of the hall present a grand view of the River Welland. Easton-on-the-hill could also be seen in the distance.
Before John crossed the mote that surrounded the house he stopped his horse and turned toward Stamford. He surveyed the towne and picked out the All Saints' church. The steeple was magnificent and from that point he could also make out the capstone cross.
A servant had seen John approaching and had summoned the other servants and when John turned to cross over the mote, they were waiting to execute his commands. One took his horse and another his cloak and sword. Another gave him a light jacket for inside the house.
John found his mother in her sitting room. A fire had been burning long enough to warm the room nicely. She was sitting near the fireplace and was doing some needlework with her back to the door when he entered. He walked up beside her chair before announcing his presence.
'Mum,' John said in a soft voice, 'I am 'ome, mum.'
Somewhat startled, she looked up at him and dropped her needlework.
'John, me boy,' she said as she reached out her hand to him. 'I am so glad that you are 'ome. It 'as been so lonely.'
John looked at her hand as he held it with his own. It looked so old, older than he had remembered. The fingers were thin and somewhat gnarled from a crippling disease. The veins on her hands were also quite prominent.
'Aye, mum. I 'ave been gone too long. I shuld nay leave you so long,' he replied. 'Boot it shuld nay be lonely with all the servants around the 'ouse.'
'It is nay the same, me boy.'
His mother picked up her needlework and laid it in her lap and rubbed her fingers. 'Me fingers do nay work as well as they once did. It gets 'arder every dee to use them.'
'It is luvly, mum,' John said referring to the needlework.
'Nay, it is nay right,' replied his mother. ''ow did your business go in Calais, then?'
'Very well indeed. I 'ave buyers for all the wool that we can produce and by the luks of the sheep, it will be plent'y.'
'Oh, you are a gud lad,' said his mother with a smile. 'Your father wuld be pleased.'
John walked to a nearby window and looked toward Stamford and said, 'They capped the steeple todee, mum. Comb and see.'
'I can nay see that far, me boy, I am sure that it is luvly.'
'I gave them express orders to nay set the capstone until me return and they were setting it just as I arrived,' exclaimed John with a louder voice. 'I was so angry with that old priest, I culd 'ave....'
'John, me boy,' interrupted his mother, 'your father did nay teach you to speak so.'
Undeterred, John continued, 'Mum, I am alderman in this towne, and I must be obeyed.'
'Well, me boy, does it nay appear that you were obeyed?'
''ow so?,' questioned John.
'Did you see the stone placed?'
'Aye.'
'Then whot 'ave you to go on aboot?'
John didn't like being talked to in this manner. Only his mother would dare such a conversation. Then to