[The British Isles, Northumbria, near York, April of 793]
In a small clearing where the afternoon sun managed to pierce the canopy, a wild boar was peacefully grazing. The creature was an old male, its hide a coarse, grizzled gray-brown, caked with mud from a nearby wallow.
It grunted softly, methodically tearing at the bracken and roots with its tough, spade-like snout. Its tusks, yellowed and sharp, curved upward from its lower jaw, a formidable defense against any predator foolish enough to challenge its domain.
"Ok, Harold, you stay here and watch me, ok? William whispered to his squire.
"Yes, sir," whispered back the little boy, still terrified from the idea of being so close to a wild boar.
William Rose and gripped the handle of his warhammer tightly and strode out to the clearing and felt the animal's gaze snag on him like a hook.
The boar's lips peeled back. A wet, animal shriek split the air, a high, furious sound, and with no more thought than a boar can muster, it charged. Its bulk rolled like a tumbling log, hooves thudding, bracken snapping under a mass of muscle.
William planted his boots and let the warhammer's full weight carry through his arms. The first strike landed against the boar's skull with a deafening crack.
The creature staggered, sliding across the grass in a heavy, fumbling trail. Dust and leaves flew, and a fine mist of steam rose from the warm, heaving body.
Harold's hand flew to his mouth. The boar twitched, snorting and trying to right itself. William raised the warhammer again and struck the base of its skull.
The second blow ended the struggle instantly. The forest fell quiet, save for the soft hiss of leaves under the fallen beast.
Finally, his voice level and low, he addressed the boy. "Harold, do you understand now why a warhammer is better than a sword?"
The boy nodded repeatedly, his eyes glued to the weapon reverently.
"Now, Harold," William said, "it's time for your lessons. If this boar sells for twenty-five silver pennies, how many more would we need to hunt to buy a warhorse that costs twelve hundred?"
Harold's mouth hung agape. With one swing of a hammer, 25 silver pennies were made? He never saw a penny in his life; his family got what they needed through barter.
And why would anyone need a warhorse for that much money? You could buy a better house and lots and lots of chicken and sheep.
"Sir," Harold began timidly, "do you really need to buy a horse for that much coin?"
"Of course I do, Harold. I'm incomplete without it. Now be a good boy and run along to the road and hire us someone with a cart to York so we can move this animal and sell it," William said, dismissing the boy's logical questions.
"Yes, sir!" Harold said eagerly, bolting off before William could add anything else.
By the time William had cleaned the blood from his hammer, Harold returned, leading four peasants with a mule and a sturdy wooden cart.
The peasants glanced nervously but also hatefully at William, a powerful man armed and hunting while the kingdom was in dire straits.
Seeing his quarry, they began a chorus of forced praise, mistaking him for a rich thegn indulging in luxury.
"How much would you charge for taking this animal to York?" asked William.
"Nothing at all, milord; we will be more than happy to help," said one of the men.
"I don't have coins, so your payment will be one-tenth of this boar meat. Is that alright?"
Suddenly all the discontent and hatred in their hearts vanished even though they were cursing him silently in their hearts a moment ago for saying he doesn't have coin, wearing such armor, going on a hunt, and having a servant.
But meat, none of them remembered the last time they or their families had tasted meat. Their hands moved with urgency, loading the massive animal into the cart with hurried efficiency.
William watched the peasants heave the last of the boar's bulk onto the sturdy wooden cart. Their eagerness for the promised meat made the work fast.
One of the men, a broad-shouldered fellow in a threadbare tunic who seemed to be the informal leader, wiped his brow and gestured toward the cart's edge. "Milord," he said, his voice rough but respectful, "you can ride along with it. Make the journey easier for you."
William shook his head immediately. "No, I will walk." The peasant looked puzzled. "It's a long way to York, Milord. You must be tired from the hunt."
"No, I will walk," William replied. "The cart is not meant for such a heavy load as I am, fully armored." He made a motion toward his chest plate. "Besides, I don't mind the walk; it is good exercise, and York is but a short distance now."
Harold, who had eagerly scrambled onto the cart the moment the loading began, stopped his excited bouncing. William pointed a finger at the boy. "Harold, get down from there," William commanded, his tone firm but not unkind. "You will walk with me. This is good training for your stamina."
The boy scrambled down instantly, his initial excitement replaced by a look of dejected acceptance. He fell into step beside his master, his small legs working hard to match William's longer stride.
The peasant leader shrugged again, seemingly content with the arrangement, and took the mule's reins. The cart groaned into motion, its wooden wheels cutting ruts into the soft forest floor.
William fell into step beside it, the sheer weight of his gear a constant, grinding pressure. The journey to the city became a quiet, rhythmic affair.
The peasants occasionally murmured amongst themselves about the quality of the boar and the feast they would have, but mostly they were silent, focused on the road.
As the sun dipped lower in the sky, casting elongated shadows that danced across the ground, the first hints of the city emerged on the horizon. The air thickened with the mingling scents of smoke and the vibrant pulse of people.
The road widened, traffic increased, and finally, the rough stone walls of York loomed large in the twilight. A crowd of common folk and guards gathered at the gate.
"Here we are, milord," the lead peasant said, pulling the mule to a halt just outside the main gate. "The market is just inside."
William nodded. "Excellent. Let's get this sold."