Thomas.

"Ah... ya dirty dove!" 

Thomas's horse shifted under his weight, he watched the scene from the rise and wondered if he should intervene. He had been travelling for two days and just wanted to get home to his bed and his family. These people were on his land and from what he could tell a woman was involved. He recognised two of the men as being Joe Banks the blacksmith and Paul Spooner a ditch digger from the village. The third he had never seen before but from all appearances, he was a peddler.

The young woman struggled to her feet. Thomas couldn't see her face and the shawl that had been wrapped around her now lay on the ground where she had fallen after the hawker had hit her. Her hair was of a fair colouring, long, dirty and untidy. Her clothes looked like mere rags. The sound of the hawker's laughter caused Thomas to focus on him. Round and red-faced with a body to match. The nose, was large and bulbous, his hair receding.

Spooner grabbed the girl by the arm. The hawker laughed louder and nodded his head.

Thomas couldn't hear the words being said but he knew they couldn't be good as he watched the girl struggle to get free of the ditch digger's grasp. Spooner ripped the flimsy material that was her blouse. Banks was at her, grabbing her skirt. She kicked and struggled, and then was struck again, but this time by Paul Spooner. Thomas didn't hesitate any longer. He kicked his horse forward and galloped down the hillside drawing his whip from his saddle.

None heard him coming. They were too engrossed in the wench and their plans for her. By the time Thomas reached the scene the two men had her bent over a rock, her skirt pushed high exposing the flesh of her behind. Joe Banks held her in place by the arms while Spooner grabbed her by the hips. Thomas rode into the camp, whip held high. He landed a well-aimed blow onto Spooner's bare arse.

The man screamed. He let go of the girl and turned as Thomas reined in the horse and wheeled around to face them. Banks released her hands and stood with his own raised in the air while Spooner hurriedly righted his trousers.

"Master Lytton!"

Thomas glared down at them from his mount. "What the hell are you doing on my land?"

"We... we was just doin' some business with the peddler here, sir."

Thomas looked from Banks' face to the female who was now huddled against the rock trying to bring her torn skirt together to shield her bare legs. Her head was hung and her arms folded around her body as she shook with fear and tears. "Rape is now a business, is it?"

The hawker stepped forward. "Weren't rape, sir. They paid me fair and square to have her."

Thomas scowled and jerked his head toward the young woman. "She's willing, is she?"

"She'll do as I say. I own 'er and she'll do as she's told. She's just a virgin is all and a bit scared. She'll calm down in a minute. Maiden's is always scared whens they is fresh." He chuckled and swept his palm toward her. "Maybe you, sir, would like ta be her first. You being a gentleman and all would make it kinda special for 'er."

"Get off my land! Now!" Thomas raised his whip and brought it down hard across the hawker's shoulders. The man screamed and recoiled. The whip came down again. This time Banks and Spooner caught the brunt of it. "If I hear of any similar behaviour from you two again, I'll have your lives! Do you understand me?"

They nodded frantically and bolted up the rise in the direction of the village.

Thomas dismounted and walked slowly towards the hawker who was cowering and holding his shoulder. "You own her, you say?"

"Yes, sir. Paid half a crown for her I did, it was all legal, papers signed and all." He smiled and nodded. "You want to be her first, sir?"

The growl, which emanated from Thomas' throat, caused the hawker to cringe further. Thomas walked to where the girl was still huddled against the rock. He took hold of her upper arm and pulled her to her feet. She trembled and tried to resist. Thomas took her by the chin, lifted her head and pushed hair from her face. She was younger than he expected. There was bruising on her cheek and a trickle of blood ran from her nose into the crease where her lips were pressed tightly together. Her eyes remained focused on the ground.

Thomas studied her, a girl on the threshold of being a young woman. "Look at me."

She continued to stare at the ground.

He took both of her arms and raised them above her head so she would look at him. Thomas ran his eyes down her. Thin and underfed, on the verge of starvation, he'd bet. His head drummed with the heat of anger that surged through him. He regretted letting Spooner and Banks go so easily but he'd make them pay eventually.

"If you look at me, I'll let you cover yourself." Thomas' heart broke looking at her. All he could think was that she had to be around the same age as his own daughter. She lifted her eyes. Vivid green, with long black lashes wet with tears set in her gaunt face. Large droplets ran down her cheeks. No amount of dirt or muck would hide the beauty she would grow into.

He spun her around and brushed the thick fair wavy hair from her back. She was black and blue. An urge to kill the peddler hammered at Thomas. His conscience kicked in. He wasn't going to hang for scum.

He controlled his rage and looked back at the hawker. "From where did you buy her?"

The hawker shuffled nervously.

Thomas knew whatever his answer, it would be a lie. The rumble crept back into his voice. "Why has she been beaten?" He let go of the girl and turned to face the hawker.

He didn't answer. Instead, he took a step back as Thomas moved toward him.

"I asked you a question," Thomas growled.

"The workhouse. I bought her from the workhouse. It's all legal. Paid half a crown I did." The hawker stumbled backwards.

"And the beating?" Thomas took another step forward. "What did she do to deserve that?"

"She's disobedient. I had to beat her." He tripped again. "She has to learn," he whined. "I own her."

"Not anymore." Thomas threw money at the hawker, and then picked up the girl's shawl. He mounted his horse and threw the wrap down to her. "Cover yourself." He spun the horse so he could gather her from the left side. The animal jittered backwards and forwards but the imp didn't move. Thomas beckoned her with his hand saying, "Come."

"No!" The hawker stepped forward. "She's mine."

"Like I said. Not anymore. She belongs to me now." Thomas scowled and let the horse lunge toward the hawker.

"No. You can't. It was all legal." The hawker stepped back and held up his hands to protect himself from the animal.

Thomas sneered, "Yes, I'm sure it was. Just like this transaction is." He jerked his head at the money which lay on the ground. "One penny. That's a fair price for damaged goods." Thomas pulled the horse back towards the girl.

"But she's pure. I own her." The hawker walked forward as if to take hold of the girl.

Thomas was losing his patience. "Like I have already said. Not anymore." He turned to the young one and with authority in his voice commanded, "Girl. Come."

She glanced at the hawker, and then up at Thomas.

"I said here!" Thomas was starting to wonder if she was deaf. He beckoned with his hand once more as the horse shuffled backwards and forwards.

She turned and bolted towards the woods.

Thomas dropped his hand with a sigh and let her go. It wouldn't take much to catch her. He looked back at the peddler. Bile surged into his throat. He lifted his whip and flayed it down hard on the man's back. "Get. Off. My. Land!" He brought the whip down again. "Now!"

The hawker floundered and fell. His hand landed on the coin. He seized it.

This caused another rush of hate to run through Thomas. He thrashed the whip down harder. The hawker screamed and staggered towards his wagon. Thomas struck him again. Blood seeped through the fabric of the hawker's shirt as Thomas raised the whip once more. "If I ever see you in this area again, I'll take your horse and your cart, you pig of a man." Thomas let the whip lick the hawkers back once more, and then wheeled his horse around and followed the girl into the woods.

Maiden - is another word for virgin used in this era.

If you were Shay, would you have run or got on the horse with this stranger?

Do you think Thomas is a good man?

I certainly liked the way he whipped the hawker.

Photo copyright. Irish Myths.