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Chapter 1
Patrick Day drank ale out of a canteen as he sat in the cart of hay that swayed back and forth perilously as it sped down the road. While this might usually cause alarm and a bit of sickness, it was a dream for Patrick.
His best blokes were with him— Jimmy, Ned, and Bo, and they were off on another of their adventures. This time, the town of Hamel, quite east of London, which suited Patrick just fine. He wasn’t the sort of fellow that cared for the dust and grime of London, nor did the trappings of society impress him in any way. Being of lowly birth, Patrick was as free as the wind.
And very much in need of funds.
Patrick, Jimmy, Ned, and Bo would travel from town to town looking for work. And considering they were all athletic in build and were in the warm months of spring, there was plenty of work to be had. Not that heavy labour was how Patrick wished to spend the rest of his life. He was fond of books and nature above all, but Jimmy, Ned, and Bo were different.
Jimmy was the hard-headed one, always taking the brunt of the work. Ned was soft-spoken and shy, but the strength of his arms made up for that. Bo was the one most keen on food and drink, making him the huskiest of them all. But his overindulgence did not get in the way of his strength.
Patrick often referred to them as ‘the gingers,’ with their various shades of red hair; Jimmy having the deepest ruby strands, while Bo’s was so light one might think him albino. They were no doubt Irish in descent with their ruddy cheeks and soft, hazel eyes.
Patrick, on the other hand, had chocolate brown hair that fell in front of his face. His piercing blue eyes verged on aquamarine. The largest in stature of the bunch, Patrick Day could be construed a Corinthian with his athletic build.
All in all, Patrick delighted in his best mates and the adventures they’d undertake. He was entirely free but not without introspection. His mother dead and gone, these young men were all that Patrick had in the world, but he still considered himself blessed in his unorthodox lifestyle.
“You’ll be drunk before we arrive in Hamel,” Jimmy said to Bo.
He took a hearty swig of his ale. “And you won’t be the same?”
Jimmy laughed. “I suppose you have a point.”
Ned asked, “And what of Patrick? He’s the one that holds down his drink best of all.”
Patrick smiled mischievously. “I’m told I’m of Irish descent. Our constitutions are made for it.”
“Hear, hear!” the men cried out.
Jimmy scratched his head. “I’m still amazed that the farmer offered a free ride. We usually bribe them with a shilling.”
Patrick looked at the old man on the horse, pulling their cart along the dirt path. He said, “Perhaps he wants our labour in return.”
Bo shook his head. “He’ll have to pay for it. We got stiffed in the last town.”
Patrick raised his canteen. “And now I’m broke, like the rest of you sorry louts.”
Jimmy played with some stems of hay. “Of all of us, you’ll be doing this for the shortest amount of time, my friend. I’m surprised Eton hasn’t found you yet.”
“You flatter me.” Patrick lifted his brow.
Ned chimed in. “It’s true. Always with your nose in a book.”
“I like geography, cardiology, history— those sorts of things.”
Bo rolled his eyes. “I like drinking and loose women. We all have our preferences.”
As the men continued to ride along, Patrick basked in the sunshine, the surrounding countryside, the expansive blue sky. There were the smells of horses, cows, and earthiness in the air. All of it was to his liking. Although the labour was not his long-term view for his life, he still enjoyed being outside and working the land.
One day, his dream was to have a country cottage of his own. A place where he could read and build things all day and be out in nature. If a wife was part of the picture, then all the better. Patrick was very keen on the ladies, and he managed to find one in each town keen on him. But he was tiring of that lifestyle and dreamed of the day where he could be with that one woman that set his heart on fire. Of course, he could never tell his blokes this.
Off in the distance, the village of Hamel emerged. The old man pulled the cart along quickly, and Patrick enjoyed the last minutes of having the wind whip through his brown hair, grown long. He was a tall man.
Patrick stood six feet in height, which always made the other men give him a hard time, but Patrick knew it was merely from jealousy. He also had the broadest shoulders of the lot, for Patrick was quite the sportsman in his youth. There was no time for that now. All there was time for was working and reading books.
“We’re almost there!” the old man cried back to them.
Jimmy said, “Thank you, my friend!” Raising his canteen.
