Post by Roe on Apr 15, 2009 10:54:24 GMT
Robert thought to himself that it had been a long day. The ex-crusader had made the long trip from the coast on the horse that he had brought from the Holy Land. He had been away from England for 15 years, first fighting to drive the Moors out of central Iberia, then fighting with Frankish crusaders in the Holy Land and rising through the ranks, culminating in the defense of Jerusalem in '87. Although he had been an expert with the bow and the sword .... much of his initial expertise had been as a military engineer ..... given his training as a carpenter and wood-worker. He had built siege towers, catapults, and trebuchets. However, most of the years of his childhood and teenage ears had been spent in Locksley. It was where he had lived and apprenticed with an experienced carpenter.
He had heard stories about how bad things were in England, and he had decided to check out Locksley first when he returned to the shire. He was not recognized, partially since there seemed to be so few people there he recognized. Also, he had left as a clean-shaven youth for Iberia, and now he was a bearded, somewhat more weathered version of himself at the age of 33. He found that the carpenter's hut and shop was now abandoned .... they had either left or died .... which just lid another layer of sadness on Roe's mind. He found himself still bothered by the nightmares of the the crusade, and had hoped that the return to a more tranquil shire would be soothing for his soul.
He decided that the best tribute to the Scarlett’s would be to renovate those structures and give back Locksley a tradesman that they sorely missed. Speaking of sore, Roe’s was quite sore from his long journey and he simply needed a place to rest his head for awhile, before he would be able to do anything constructive, he thought. Maybe the real reason he had survived the Crusades and the journey back was to do some good for his old village.
He had once been a nobleman and even a knight in the Holy Land, but all he had ever had was a title. He would now do what he was trained to do, and there was no need for anyone to know anything else. He entered what was left of the main hut, hung his cloak and crusaders garb on the wall, removed his swords and his bow, and began the long process of straightening up and re-building the thatch-roof structure and the small adjoining shop. First, though, he carried out some rotten material from the inside, and began to repair the front door and the fence-row.
This required him to cut some new pieces, using some sawhorses out in front of the hut, and then the tedious process of assembling them. “After 15 years I doubt if anyone will remember me anyway. I left a bare-faced 17 –year-old and I return an older bearded carpenter. Hopefully they will accept me for my skills, and I can fit in well here. All I really want is some peace ….. I think I’ve earned that after 15 years of war,” he said to himself. After just a short while, though, he realized just how fatigued he was, and he spread out an old well-used blanket from his horse, laid down, and quickly fell asleep.
He had heard stories about how bad things were in England, and he had decided to check out Locksley first when he returned to the shire. He was not recognized, partially since there seemed to be so few people there he recognized. Also, he had left as a clean-shaven youth for Iberia, and now he was a bearded, somewhat more weathered version of himself at the age of 33. He found that the carpenter's hut and shop was now abandoned .... they had either left or died .... which just lid another layer of sadness on Roe's mind. He found himself still bothered by the nightmares of the the crusade, and had hoped that the return to a more tranquil shire would be soothing for his soul.
He decided that the best tribute to the Scarlett’s would be to renovate those structures and give back Locksley a tradesman that they sorely missed. Speaking of sore, Roe’s was quite sore from his long journey and he simply needed a place to rest his head for awhile, before he would be able to do anything constructive, he thought. Maybe the real reason he had survived the Crusades and the journey back was to do some good for his old village.
He had once been a nobleman and even a knight in the Holy Land, but all he had ever had was a title. He would now do what he was trained to do, and there was no need for anyone to know anything else. He entered what was left of the main hut, hung his cloak and crusaders garb on the wall, removed his swords and his bow, and began the long process of straightening up and re-building the thatch-roof structure and the small adjoining shop. First, though, he carried out some rotten material from the inside, and began to repair the front door and the fence-row.
This required him to cut some new pieces, using some sawhorses out in front of the hut, and then the tedious process of assembling them. “After 15 years I doubt if anyone will remember me anyway. I left a bare-faced 17 –year-old and I return an older bearded carpenter. Hopefully they will accept me for my skills, and I can fit in well here. All I really want is some peace ….. I think I’ve earned that after 15 years of war,” he said to himself. After just a short while, though, he realized just how fatigued he was, and he spread out an old well-used blanket from his horse, laid down, and quickly fell asleep.
