He only knew that his father had grown up in the cottage, his grandfather had been born in the cottage and raised there, as had his father before him. The only thing that seemed to change about the cottage was the new thatching that was required every 40 years or so. A person could live a whole lifetime almost and not see the thatching changed. But, as luck would have it, Richard's father was required to bear the expense of a new thatching several years previous.
Richard knew that the cottage would never belong to him. Richard's older brother, Bromley would receive the cottage at the death of his father, just like Richard's father had received it from his father. That did not concern Richard. He was not interested in the life of a farmer and didn't plan to stay in Easton-on-the-hill long enough to see the thatch changed again.
Reaching home, Richard found the gate was open, explaining why Argus was roaming the fields and woods. Richard lifted the heavy metal latch of the door and leaned against it. The door moved on its hinges with little resistance, but let out its usual creaky groan. The familiar smells of musk and damp thatch greeted Richard as he step into the room as did the aroma of freshly-baked bread. The family had finished the evening meal, but there was still some bread and milk on the corner of the table. Times were difficult for a man with a small farm and sometimes there was just not enough food to go around. Tonight, however, Richard wouldn't go to bed hungry.
Glancing up from her mending as he entered, his mother greeted him.
' 'ello me luv, 'ow was your dee?' asked his mother. Richard mumbled a few words about the progress on the glass work and the dampness of the weather, never mentioning the broken glass or the beautiful girl.
'I saw three people in the woods tonight, Mum. They did nay see me.'
'They weren't the duke's men then?'
'No, they wuld 'ave been on the roadway.'
'Please be careful going through those woods at night, me luv.'
Richard's father, who had the appearance of being asleep in a chair near the fire, now spoke for the first time since Richard entered the cottage. Without opening his eyes, he said in a half whisper, 'You will be needed in the afternoon to 'elp with the planting.'
This is not what Richard wanted to hear. Saturday in Stamford was a market day and he was certain that he would be able to see the girl again after he completed his work at the glaziers. Richard's father however wasn't one to disagree with. Richard consented, but only half-heartedly.
Chapter Two
1420
Easton-on-the-hill, England
Lind Easton was a hardworking man. He came by farming naturally, which was a very good thing since he had a wife and a child that depended on him to eat. They meant everything to him, but still he felt the almost crushing burden of providing for their safety and well-being. His father and mother had succumbed in the past year to a plague that had passed through the Stamford area. Lind, his wife and child had been very fortunate indeed to have been spared the horrible fate that so many had suffered. It was bad enough to lose a loved one to this illness, but to watch how they suffered before they died was almost too much to bear. By the time death wrapped its spiny fingers around the afflicted person its grip was a welcomed relief to the suffering. The illness was believed to be caused by evil spirits on account of the afflicted's wickedness, but Lind wasn't certain that he believed that. After all, his father, Ian and his mother Winifred were very devoted to the Church and to their families.
The first sign that usually accompanied the illness was aching within the head itself, followed by burning on the forehead. If that wasn't enough to torment the sufferers, the vomiting and the uncontrolled bowels that followed would cause them to beg for death. The priest had done all that he could to relieve the suffering, but it was of no avail.
Lind was in the fields when he heard of his mother's death. Heartbroken, he rushed to her side. Kneeling at her bedside, he held her lifeless body and wept. His father lay nearby unable to render any care or assistance. Although All Saints' of Easton-on-the-hill was right across the lane, the priest had been at the upper end of the