Boots wasn't sure what he said that was so funny to the man.
But at least he wasn't bashing his head in with his shovel.
Boots felt as though his situation had improved.
"So, lad…what's your name?" the man said after finally composing himself.
"Boots." Boots said proudly.
"…" the man appeared to be waiting for something.
"…"
"Just Boots?"
"Yes,"
"That's not a nick name or.."
"It is not Nick's name no; it is my name."
"Boots?"
"Correct."
"Just Boots?"
"Just Boots."
"Oh." he said with a slight look of pity
"Does my name disappoint you?"
"Oh, ah no."
"What is your name?" Boots asked politely.
"Gregory, Gregory Thatcher." said Gregory.
"Nice to meet you, Gregory Gregory Thatcher" Boots said with a nod.
"It's just one Gregory…" he said with a slight eyebrow twitch, "Just call me Mr Thatcher."
"Of course. Ah, Mr Thatcher… I have to ask… would it be possible for you to give my nose a scratch?"
Mr Thatcher paused for a moment, before smiling and shaking his head.
"Here, you can scratch your own nose lad," he said, moving round behind Boots's back and cutting him free of his bonds.
"Thank you Mr Thatcher," Boots said after a thorough nose-rubbing.
Gregory sat down and produced some bread and cheese from his satchel. Taking a bite and watching Boots cautiously. He had cut his arms free, but his legs remained tied to the chair. He wasn't about to completely trust Boots yet. Despite the fact he appeared to believe Boots's story.
"Is it possible you could answer some questions for me?" Boots asked, "About the world? It appears there is a lot I don't understand. I wish to learn."
Gregory paused mid-chew, assessing Boots. Before coming to some internal decision and giving a nod.
"Firstly, what year is it?"
Gregory nearly choked.
***Fiona***
Fiona sat in her room, nervously looking out the window at the barn.
'Is Dad ok in there?' she thought, wringing her paws together, as the sun slowly set over the hills. Twilight descending on the valley.
Despite his calm demeanour, her father was hardly what you'd call a soft man. He'd spent most of his younger years chasing down criminals in town. He was quite well known and respected. Even amongst the criminal world. He was known as a firm but fair man. Not the type to take bribes but also not the type to dish out punishments mindlessly, he had been known to bend the rules on occasion, a man of principle.
He and his men even brought down the Marsh Lurkers! Those guys were a pretty big deal right?
Her father certainly liked to re-tell that story after a drink or two! They'd heard it all a hundred times at this point. Each time reacting like it was the first time they'd ever heard it.
'As you should with a father's story!' she smiled to herself
Her father loved to tell it like it was a bed-time story to her and her brothers when they were younger, over embellishing the details, how he and his men had hidden in wait for three long days and nights out in the marshes, trying to find the smugglers hideout. He would always give her a big jump at the end of the story when he found the sneaky gang boss hiding in a barrel. He would give all the bad guys voices too. The Greedy Mayor's was her favourite! He would always push his nose up and talk in snorts for him. And having met the man, she could say her father's impersonation was not far off!
He got paid enough from the bounty that he could buy the small farm they all lived on now and quit the Guard. Even after the extortionate amount of tax he had to pay on it.
'He'll be fine.' she said to herself. Her father had locked up much more terrifying people in the past. And had already beaten this guy up with his shovel once before. He still has some fight in him yet.
"Fio," her mother called from downstairs, "could you help me set the table?"
"Coming Mum," Fiona said with one more quick glance out the window.
'He'll definitely be fine.' she told herself once more, heading downstairs.
***Gregory***
Gregory was genuinely surprised at the lack of knowledge that Boots had about the world.
It seems the only things he could remember how to do was how to walk and how to talk.
Gregory suspected he didn't actually know what his own name was and had instead named himself to try and feel a bit better about his situation.
'A man's pride is a delicate thing' Gregory had thought to himself when Boots told him his name. He had decided not to press the issue. Boots clearly didn't know what a name was let alone what his own name was, no parent would call their child 'Boots'! And what about his family name? He had found the thought rather sad.
'Poor lad' Gregory had thought to himself.
He'd had to tell him what year it was, what country he was in, what the local Lords names were, the surrounding towns names.
He'd even had to teach him basic etiquette and manners!
They talked for around an hour.
All doubts had been expelled in Gregory's mind as to the nature of the man before him. He was not a murderer or villain. Or even a creep. He was a very straight forward, polite and honest young man. That had some series of unfortunate events bring him here.
'How to proceed from here…?' Gregory thought to himself with a frown.
'Just letting him go, doesn't feel like the right thing to do. He doesn't have much hope for survival out on his own, clueless as he is. It would only be a matter of time before he was tricked by some scoundrel, robbed or murdered. There was also the unresolved issue of Fiona.' Gregory frowned in thought
"Mr Thatcher, I was wondering if it would be possible for me to see your daughter again?"
"What?" Gregory said sharply, anger instinctively flaring.
"I wish to apologise to her. I undoubtedly put her through much distress. Although I understand you don't want to expose your daughter to more stress. I believe it would be for the best."
"For the best…" Gregory's expression darkened, "and how would YOU know what is best for my daughter?! You didn't see her afterwards; I've never seen her so scared in my life! Begging for forgiveness is not going to cut it!" Gregory spat, the hackles on his neck standing up.
Gregory's own anger surprised him. He was just starting to get along with the lad, but the thought of his daughter being upset again by him outweighed all reason. His instinctive reaction got the better of him.
"I understand your anger Mr Thatcher. Although I do not know much about the world, I do know that all good apologies require a gift. And I have a good idea where to find one."
***Boots***
Gregory listened to his plan and after some deliberation, agreed to it and cut him free from his bonds.
Boot's had agreed to leave his hammer behind as a gesture of good faith.
He had no intention of breaking his word to Gregory anyway.
"Are you sure you'll be alright out there? It's gotten pretty dark already you know." Gregory asked looking at the forest.
"I'll be fine Mr Thatcher." Boots said, not thinking it was dark at all. Although it was raining a bit, the moon was mostly out so he had excellent night vision.
"If you're not back in an hour I'll come to look for you. You want to borrow a jacket?" Gregory said with a sideways glance.
"I appreciate your concern, I'll be running so it would probably make me too hot anyway, besides; I'll be back shortly." said Boots confidently, turning and heading off into the forest. He could think of nothing more unpleasant than running in a wet jacket.
"Good luck." he said as Boots departed.
As he jogged through the scrub and undergrowth, thoughts of Alex wandered back into his mind. Although it hadn't happened often there were times when he had apologised to Alex. Like when he broke the occasional trinket or item that Alex held dear.
He would bring him a mouse. It worked 100% of the time. His apology success rate was perfect! Alex had always been cheered up by his gifts.
Although he felt he would have to try a bit harder for this particular incident.
'The gift must fit the apology!' Boots thought with a nod.
He had the perfect thing in mind.
***Fiona***
Fiona had just finished setting the table and was cleaning her paws in the sink, when she glanced through the kitchen window and happened to see a black and white figure darting off into the forest.
'Oh gods no!'
She quickly grabbed a knife from the kitchen counter and sprinted outside!
As she ran through the ever-increasing rain she looked at the figure as he disappeared into the distance. It was so hard to see, she knew she'd never catch him. That wasn't her priority anyway.
Her mind was racing, is her father ok? Is he hurt? Does he need help?!
She sprinted to the barn!
Fearing the worst, she barged through the door!
'BANG!'
Gregory nearly leaped out of his skin!
"DAD!.... Dad?!"
***Gregory***
Gregory spent the next 10 minutes calming Fiona down.
He then spent the next 20 minutes explaining everything to her.
He could tell she wasn't happy, but she had accepted his explanation at least. He knew she trusted him. Even if she didn't agree with him.
"Listen Sweetpea, I wish you'd heard it from the man himself, I really do…" Gregory started with a sigh, "I think something happened to him and he forgot, well, everything. Even his own name." he said with a hint of pity.
"But what if he's lying? Dad! You could have just let a lunatic loose!" Fiona said, with a hint of anger.
"Look, he's even left his hammer here, he's currently running round the forest in nothing but a pair of trousers! Looking for a present for you. I'm inclined to believe his story, if he has some how fooled me. Then I'll just get a few of my friends over and we'll track him down in no time." Gregory said confidently.
"Dad you can't jus-"
'BANG!'
The barn door flew open, a shadowy figure stood in the door frame.
Fiona's eyes widened as the giant stepped through the entrance
'Bonk!'
"Ah!" Boots said, catching his head on the door frame, as if not used to being tall, "Sorry, the wind caught the door." as he pulled it shut behind him, he froze for a moment, catching sight of Fiona.
He was holding a small basket and had a serious expression on his face as he approached Fiona.
"No! Stay back!" she said brandishing the knife at Boots.
"Fio, calm d-" Gregory began trying to defuse the situation before it escalated any further. He'd had a feeling it might turn out like this.
Boots continued his advance towards Fiona.
"I'm warning you!" Fiona said, louder this time. Grip tightening on the shaking knife.
Boots stopped around five metres away from her. Calmly placed the basket on the floor. Got on his knees and pressed his forehead to the ground.
"Miss Fiona, I am truly sorry for scaring you earlier. There was simply too much I did not know about the world at the time. It was never my intent to harm you. It was never my intent to scare you. However, the fact remains, that I did both of these things. I won't ask for your forgiveness. But I do want you to know how sorry I am. Please accept this basket as a token of my sincerity."
***Fiona***
They remained there in silence for a while, the three of them.
Fiona was slightly taken aback by the man bowing in front of her, she'd never been kow-towed to before.
'He sure speaks fancy for a pervert!' was Fiona's first thought.
'But still…' she thought absently, her eyes looking him over. He was in terrible shape, soaked to the bone and covered in mud, he didn't even have any shoes on. By the looks of the basket, he'd even rounded up most of the ingredients she'd lost. How he did that in the dark she had no idea.
Fiona lowered the knife with a sigh. Walking over to the kneeling man.
"Look at me." she said sternly.
Boots sat back on his heels, making eye contact with her.
"Don't you EVER do it again." she said, pinching his ear firmly in her paw.
"I…ah, I won't!" he said as she released him with a slightly thicker ear.
'Hmph' she snorted "Good." she then picked up the basket and turned to leave.
Gregory let out the breath he'd been holding on to. Clearly relieved.
'Squee!'
"What's this…? A mouse?" Fiona said, inspecting the contents of the basket, only to find a rather terrified looking mouse bound to the wall of it.
"Ah, yes! I thought you might like him, his name's Cinnamon." Boots said with a smile.
Fiona looked incredulously at Boots, mouth agape.
Gregory snorted in the corner, trying not to laugh.
A smile crept onto Fiona's face.
'Is this guy for real?'