France in the 1400's
I remember coming home across the fields (France, 1400s is my thinking I was a teenage boy - maybe 14 or so) and seeing my house (hovel) on fire - thatched roof smoking.
I looked in and my family was gone - where? who knows and the house was all wrecked. Don't know what happened, but there was a war on and stuff like that tended to happen.
I walked to the nearest town and kind of hung around not really knowing what to do. No sign of my family. I tried begging a bit, some people took pity and gave me some scraps, etc.
I met a soldier as he and his mates were moving through the area (scruffy looking bunch of guys by today's standards, they did not have uniforms as such back then - but they looked very glamourous to me). They looked big and strong and I desparately wanted to have a sword and all that stuff.
I remember one of the soldiers being fairly kind to me - gave me a coin or two, showed me his knife, let me hold it even! Ooo! Showed me how to throw it so it would stick into things - you know. This made a big impression on a lonely boy.
I begged him to let me come with him when they moved on the next day, but he said, no, I was too young and I don't think he wanted the hassle. Anyway I was devastated sad when they left, lonely as I was and frightened, not knowing what would happen to me.
I don't remember much after that, except stealing a goat, knowing I would probably get caught, not caring and then being hanged.
I remember we had to wait until the district magistrate thingy came around on his circuit. He was all dressed in black, with a white collar and some kind of wide hat and set up his table under a tree to do the month's judging.
When he handed down the death sentence he very ceremoniously took off his hat and put on some type of black silk veil or hood thing, which was pretty scary. I was past caring what happened to me though - in today's language, probably very depressed and suffering a bit of post traumatic shock or something.
I re-met the soldier dude again in this life when I was about 19. Our eyes met across a crowded room, he stopped what he was doing almost mid-sentence, came over and introduced himself. He was about 20 years older than me and very dashing and glamourous - an artist who had lived all over the world and had many exciting tales to tell.
We lived together for about a year and he taught me many useful things (how to play chess properly, how to chop wood and build a fire, make stained glass windows, various cooking techniques, an appreciation of Mozart, the benefits of regular exercise, lots of things) and generally set me up with all sorts of useful information which has stood me in good stead in my adult life.
After about a year though we went our separate ways, partly because he was always teaching me things and it started to get my goat!
