- THE BLACKBIRD MAN -

 

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1 - Territory -

 

 

 

Luke, son of Jon Black lay claim to four fields in no man’s land and marked them out with a boundary of hedge, ditch and fence. The fields were large in a two-by-two formation with a small gap in the centre giving access to all ways thereabout. It was there that Luke built a lookout post and from it he watched for trouble, opportunities and people that generally walked the coastal path that was the only thoroughfare in the area. He lived in a makeshift tent that was in reality an awning against the remnants of a dry stone wall. It was cold most nights, even with a fire so he spent all of his time, while not farming building a cottage for himself and one day for the family he hoped to have. He was only twenty so he considered himself to be doing well. His mother said he was handsome as he was tall and had dark curly hair.

 

The sun shone brightly the next day and stood high in the sky early turning the light greens into limes and the limes into yellows. While Luke was out working the soil he saw at the far end of the top field, on the coastal path side, a man camped in a low hollow at the edge of the hedge. He took his time and walked up to him calmly. ‘Good Morning,’ he said when he was standing right over him.

 

‘Morning,’ the man mumbled from the nest at the bottom of a clearing of the ivy and brambles. The man didn’t look up, he kept chewing on a vegetable he held in a savage way like it was the only food he’d in a while.

 

‘It’s nice to see someone here and have another soul to talk to,’ Luke said leaning on his small wooden hoe that had been passed down through the generations on his father’s side of the family.

 

‘Nice spot ‘ere it is. I might stay,’ the man said quickly. He flashed a look at Luke checking his reactions.

 

‘You are welcome here so long as the fields aren't disturbed. I’m farming it all, you see,’

 

‘Yes, I can see that you are,’ the man said holding up the raw turnip.

 

‘Ahh,’ Luke looked at it and found himself getting angry as he had planted those turnips last season and so he turned to go. ‘If you need anything, I’ll be down the field. Luke’s my name,’

 

‘Aye, thank ‘ee,’ the man laughed knowing he’d made Luke angry. ‘Michael, I am,’

 

‘Good day, Michael, I’m sorry but I must be getting on. I have so much to do,’ Luke walked off.

 

‘It’ll be good for opportunities here, I can feel it,’ Michael called. Luke spun on his worn heels to this and looked straight at the man. He saw a ramshackle figure, that looked like a tramp, none of his clothes fitted, all were old and he was under dressed for the time of year. It was still Spring and was cold.

 

‘Opportunities? What do you mean by opportunities exactly?’

 

‘All sorts. Unsuspecting passers-by walking the path,’

 

‘Oh,’

‘Idiots, drunks and gullible fools. I can fleece them, turn ‘em over you know. And women too,’

 

‘No,’ Luke felt himself getting angry again. ‘No, I don’t know,’

 

‘It’s their own fault. They’re ‘alf expecting it and almost grateful some of them,’ Michael said laughing to himself. Luke stood there, staring wondering what to say. ‘It’s not robbery, it’s just gentle persuasion, you see,’

 

‘I do and don’t see, yes,’

 

‘They’re only giving what they would have done anyway. Perhaps less if that makes sense. Other more ruthless types would take more and throw them over that cliff over there,’

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