In 1087, Thomas, a survivor of the Battle of Hastings, sits down to recount the course ofhis eventful life.“Some call me Thomas the Piper. Great-grandson of the far-famed Tom Thumb. At night, I pick up a whistle and place it to my lips.I play softly, so as not to awaken Tolland and the others. My piping coaxes memories – one hundred years of memories – from their hidingplaces. I line them up and dust them down, ready to call my young scribe into the room at first light, so that he can pin them, wriggling, to the vellum.Stories of how we danced, my forebears and I, to the tune of history, felt its pulse, played our part, wove tales of our own, and how each of our wishes, even in the face of hopelessness, was fulfilled …”What follows is a stirring, sometimes moving tale of the triumph of hope and love over adversity, and a celebration of the art of storytelling.
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