Finally, the carpenters and shipbuilders were satisfied that forester Wolf , Sir Thomas and the fellers had a sufficient accumulation to satisfy the Duke’s contract. Thomas made certain his own secret stash was secure. Although Thomas was still responsible for the smooth operation of fleet building, he actually knew little about long boat construction. The logs were available, the sawyers and splitters were producing, the shipwrights were giving the wood form, caulkers made the vessels watertight, and Flemish sail yards were shipping the necessary canvas or leather.

Thomas grabbed every opportunity to proceed with his own property. Two young men, really soldiers from Duke William’s castle, agreed to serve Thomas and Jo-Anne.

Thomas senior supplied a team of horses and Thomas junior regretted the loss of the old biter Trouble. The soldiers brought along a yoke of oxen and the four men began their travail turning stump land into farm land. Under Thomas senior’s direction Thomas and one of the youths began the well digging. They went to the sawyers yard and collected a wagon load of rejected boards and slabs. They drove a stake over father’s dousing marker, attached a line and scribed a circle about the stake. Thomas lifted the first shovelful of sod; the first of many he and his habitant would lift for water. They dug and picked, picked and dug until they reached the seven foot level . Selecting some of the best planks they lined the beginnings of the well vertically. Thomas and his father created a tight fitting circular frame and drove it between the vertical planking. The frame would maintain the planks and the planks would maintain the dirt wall of the well. Father Thomas had them build a tripod over the dig and provided a staunch oaken bucket to bring up the displaced soil. They threaded a rope through the pulley at the apex and attached the bucket. A log roller with a steel crank was fastened to two of the tripod legs and the rope was made fast to the log. By turning the crank the bucket elevated or lowered. On they went. Every two hours the digger would ride the bucket up and change places with the elevator man. Every four feet they planked the wall and drove and secured a circular frame. There could be no cave-in. They ran through layers of blue clay shale hard. The pick or matlock chipped minute pieces. On the fourth day of backbreaking work Thomas took a mighty swing of his pick and water gushed through the hole. In no time it was to his knees and he called for a lift. He stepped into the half filled bucket and did well to be raised above the churning water. In a short time the hole became a well and the water ran over the top.

“Father! What the hell do we do now?”

Thomas senior left the stumpers and came over,

“How lucky! A flowing well! We can pipe this directly to your house. We may have to adjust the house site somewhat to accommodate it. You’ll never have to draw water for your livestock. We’ll run the overflow into that hollow and form a pond. This is good fortune Thomas! Let’s take the plow and cut a furrow to the depression. It would be a shame to waste the water. Oh! How does it taste?”

They scooped a handful and tested.

“Cool, refreshing with some iron taste. Good!’

With an abundance of water secured Thomas could turn to Jo-Anne’s house. The building site was levelled. The posts and beams were squared with whip saw or broad axe. The carpenters laid it out on the ground and cut the mortise and tenon joints. Braces were mortised into post and beam. The skeletal frame would be erected in short order.

They dug a shallow trench about the perimeter of the building to form a foundation. The trench was filled with stone and Roman cement of lime lava and sand. No one knew why it was Roman cement. The Romans had been gone five hundred years. A few of the Gauls absorbed by the Normans had kept the cement formula alive. “ How do you make the mortar?” Thomas asked.

“That is a trade secret. We’ve protected the mixture for five hundred years.’

The oaken posts were set in the base and the beams and braces that had already been prepared were erected and pinned with wooden pegs through the mortise and tenon joint. Thomas Sr. supervised everything. The carpenters framed the doorways and four small windows.

The masons used the post and beam as the girders to support their work. Thomas tried to split stone for them, but he could never find the seam. He pounded the rock to dust, but he never could split it. The mason and even his apprentice with a few cracks of the hammer split the stone and broke it into the proper size for the wall. Thomas gave up. He and his helper dug some post holes and created a pole fence with softwood, large enough to pasture the horses and a few cows. Of course it enclosed the pond to ease the job of watering. With some carpenter help they framed a small barn and boarded it with the discarded slabs left by the ship builders. The roof was left to the thatchers, but they had considered a bark roof.

The carpenters continued to work on the house, creating oak doors and window shutters. Duke William to everyones surprise donated two poured glass window panes, a great expense. They would carefully be installed in the front wall.

As the walls rose so did the second floor beams. They were squared with broad axe and mortised into the top plate beam. Random width oak boards were secured to the beams with wooden pegs. With pieces of sandstone Thomas and apprentice holystoned the flooring. It was a tedious job, but the result was a smooth splinter free surface. The carpenter cut the rafters and Thomas and the apprentice nailed them in place. The collar ties gave the roof stability and formed the support for the loft ceiling. Two tiny dormers were framed in each side of the roof to add light and air.

Thomas senior had the thatchers there with their load of roofing material as the carpenters were descending the ladder. With straw in place the trades turned to the interior now waterproof. Sir Richard’s men had gone to the Dives River and pried up thin sheets of shale. Their wagon load of shale was quickly adapted for the main floor. A layer of fine sand was tamped and pounded level from wall to wall. The stone was fitted randomly and evenly. The one inch cracks were grouted with more Roman cement. The mason began the fireplace. Jo-Anne had some ideas about that. She expected her fireplace to heat her home. She wanted no up-the-chimney heat loss. She wanted her oven combined with the fireplace. In inclement weather she may want to bake. She wanted a spit and swinging pot hangers. She was a cook. She wanted an ash clean-out. No ashes were going to be carried through her house. The mason wasn’t sure, but she was. ‘Do it!’ she said. He decided on two fire boxes and two flues. One served the oven; one served the fireplace. The fire place would easily handle a four foot log. He built the walls hollow and vented the top and the bottom of the columns. The air set up a convection current - in the bottom, heated, out the top. The smith provided the cooking irons. Four pots could be swung over the fire at once.

With the organizing of Thomas senior, the money of Sir Richard, Thomas and Duke William, the little cottage quickly took shape. Jo-Anne and Thomas stood in the middle of the shale floor and glowed in appreciation of their endeavour. Jo-Anne suddenly leapt into Thomas’s arms and kissed him ardently. Thomas could feel Jo-Anne’s hardened nipples through his thin shirt. He began to be aroused himself. He squeezed her to him as Jo-Anne responded. Bang! The oak door flew back! A figure silhouetted by the exterior sunlight filled the aperture. Hands on hips, legs spread, he questioned, “So?”

The light dawned on Thomas; the prodigal son had returned. “Will, you batard!” Thomas released Jo-Anne gently and strode to his brother. They clasped hands and drew one another into a bear hug. It became a contest and work-hardened Thomas whirled his brother off the floor.

“Ahem!”

“Pardonnez-moi Jo-Anne! This is my wandering brother Will!”

“Mon Dieu, my sister you are beautiful! Run away with me! Don’t worry about this dog turd! Kiss me!” Will grabbed her and kissed her full on the lips. Jo-Anne was overwhelmed. She shoved Will away.

“My fiancee, your brother, has shown me some defensive tricks. If you try that again, I’ll show them to you! AND, my future husband is no tog durd!!”

“Tog Durd!” Will and Thomas stared open-mouthed, wide eyed at one another. “Tog Durd!!” They fell into each others arms laughing hysterically. Jo-Anne stamped her foot in exasperation, but Thomas gathered her into the group hug and all three sank to the shale floor hoo-hawing uncontrollably.

When order was regained, Will started again.

“Thomas, you don’t know how relieved I am to know you are not a tog durd. I don’t think there’d be room in the family for you!” And they roared and laughed some more.

“What in hell is going on here?” yelled Sir Richard from the open door.

“We’ve just found out that Thomas is not a tog durd.” And more silly laughter ensued.

“A tog durd?”

“Oh Father, don’t listen to these two ninnies. They are just having fun at my expense.”

“Well, it’s better than the first time I put them in the combat ring.”

“It all started, Father, because Will is so saucy. I’m going to find him a bride to settle him down.”

”Whoa! there, Sister. I’m much too young for marriage.”

“And Brother, speaking of marriage. Our Banns have been posted for the last three weeks We were only waiting for you to stop gallivanting about Europe to be a part of the wedding ceremony.”

“Oh yes, Thomas, I’ll be the Best Man.”

“Good! Thomas and I will call you B.M. William for short.” Thomas and Richard laughed, but Will was rather sober. They left the house and walked back to Sir Richard’s estate arm in arm. Jo-Anne laid out the plan for the house, for the furniture, for the wedding and teasingly for Will’s future fiancee. Will pleaded for breathing space. When they reached the house, Jo-Anne went to assist Joan and the three knights compared notes.

Will explained his Northumbria trip. Thomas outlined the growing fleet and brought Will up to date on their land grant and the clearing of the fields. Sir Richard shared the gleanings from Duke William’s court with news from England, Denmark and Norway. Sir Rupert was off on another mission to seek alliances with French counts and even some Italian lords.

At the supper table when Richard’s rabble had been dismissed to the nursemaid, Jo-Anne announced that she and her mother had decided that the wedding would be in two weeks. The plans were already set. The only ingredient that had been missing was Will. The ladies had been busy while Thomas and the tradesmen had been building the house. The women had had two months to prepare. Jo-Anne and Joan had been involved in the needle trade from dish cloths to curtains and rugs to blankets and they were stockpiled awaiting the house completion.

Mary Trivett was by no means idle. She was quite adept with the needle herself. Besides, she had Thomas Sr. scouring the family residences for useful but unused furniture. Then he was pressed to scour the pieces he collected. He complained bitterly of dishpan hands. One morning , “MY God, Mary, these hands were made for axe, shovel or pitchfork. I’m no housemaid!”

“Thomas!”

“All right! All Right! I’m doing it.”

Into this tiny domestic squall rode Sir Thomas, Jo-Anne and Sir William. The elderly couple greeted them all with hugs and kisses and much patting on the back. Will had been sorely missed and received a little more attention, but no more enthusiastic. Will was pressed for his latest exploits in England and he responded with an account more exciting than realistic. The anecdote of Wulfnoth shouting across one hundred yards of North Sea in high frustration led to much hilarity.

Finally Jo-Anne had a chance to intercede, “Mother, Father, now the baby of the family…..”

“Baby!” Will protested.

She continued, “Baby of your family had decided to come home, we can be ready for the wedding in two weeks with your approval of course.”

“My Dear, Thomas and I are well prepared. Thomas has amassed this collection of old but serviceable furniture and you can see his efforts at renewal have not gone amiss.”

Thomas Sr. beamed and pulled in his stomach and stuck out his chest. Jo-Anne impulsively leaned over and kissed the old fellow on the cheek. He reddened, as much as a Trivett could, but he was greatly pleased.

“My sewing has gone well. These two,” and she waved disparagingly at her two youngest, “would go to a wedding in a work shift. You’ll be happy to know I have refurbished their wardrobes. They’ll not disgrace you or me. Even this old man, so pleased with himself. will dazzle with his attire.”

“Mary, you can call me anything but old!” Thomas protested.

“Come with me, my Dear and I will show you what I have for you,” and the two ladies disappeared to view the collection of kitchen ware, bedding and household goods.

“My Boy, do you have the ring for the ceremony?”

“Not yet Father. I was going to the goldsmith’s in Rouen tomorrow.”

“Son, I have had a gold ring that belonged to your grandmother. I have never offered it to your sisters or your brother, but it would please me and likely your grandmother that the ring solemnize another Trivett marriage.”

“Thank you, Father. I will ask Jo-Anne.”

“Good idea.”

“Secondly, do you have the Treizain?”
“Pardonnez-moi?”

“The treizain is the dowry you must pay. Thirteen pieces of money must be presented with the ring. Originally, it would have gone to Sir Richard. Now it goes to your bride. One gold piece- a solidus equals 12 silver pieces or denarius.”

“What with the house and land Father, I have little coin.”

The old man fumbled in his pocket. “Here are two gold coins. Exchange one for silver and your dowry is complete.”

“Father, I thank you!” and he clasped the old fellow and hugged him.