My friend Greg back in Tennessee said that the difference between hunting and fishing is that no one thinks you’re odd if you fish alone. The idea is that hunting seems to be a sport enjoyed with friends, companions, and buddies. The shared camaraderie of the hunt goes back centuries to prehistory and continues today. One such couple of hunting buddies in England grew up in vastly different circumstances but became best of friends through hunting.

Tom was born to a middle-class and land-holding family on the outskirts of London when that area was still largely pastoral. Because his father owned land, Tom was able to enjoy some privileges most young men of his social level couldn’t. for example, he was able to spend time on the estate of a local lord, a friend of his father, and a man who taught young Tom the intricacies of hunting. At the estate, he learned about falconry, even, and how to run the dogs and corner game. Tom loved it; the outdoors, the thrill of the chase and the hunt, and the attention to detail of dealing with the falcons appealed to his sense of order. At the age of 20, he was sent to college where he studied theology and eventually found work as a clerk for a large cathedral in England. He proved to be an efficient administrator, and he was recommended by the Church to go to work for the government.

It was in this government position that Tom met Hank, a man who was also in government service, and one who shared Tom’s interest in hunting. The two began to hunt together. Hank wasn’t as careful with the details as Tom was, but he was a smart fellow, and Tom enjoyed his mind and his company. And, after the hunts, the two men would often share a drink and share stories. A bond was formed. The pair of hunting pals soon became inseparable, sometimes even forsaking their governmental responsibilities for the sake of the time they spent in the field and over their drink. Henry was from the upper class, and, as such, had the means to go to hunting lodges across England and take Tom with him. And, so, they hunted and drank, and drank and hunted.

Then, Tom was appointed to another position and left his governmental department. And the nature of his relationship with Hank changed, in part because, in Tom’s new role, he was now in charge of a part of what Hank was doing in government. Instead of a friend, Hank now saw Tom as someone who was trying to control his career rather than simply be his hunting chum and best friend. Hank appealed to Tom and their friendship to not be his overseer and remain his friend. Tom, on the other hand, took his new responsibilities seriously. He tried to tell Hank that it wasn’t personal, that his job required that he perform certain tasks that, even if Hank found them to be intrusive, were still part of his job.

The rift between them grew. Hank was now hunting and hanging out with other people, people he would later say were nowhere near the intellect and wit of his old friend. And, one night, while drinking with these new friends, Hank made the remark that he wished Tom could be removed from his position someway, somehow. Some of the drinking buddies swapped looks. They liked Hank and his money. They liked the drinking and the girls they sometimes had in the parties with them. And they wanted to impress Hank.

So, thinking that the drunken, offhanded remark about removing this man meant something else, several knights of the court of King Henry II entered Canterbury Cathedral on December 29, 1170, and killed Archbishop Thomas Becket.