Traveller Inceptio
47

Michael and his charges departed Deor-lean early the next morning after the monks conducted a half-hearted morning service. Too many sore heads meant for an unenthusiastic response. Even Ricbert, who had at least made an effort to dress in some finery with an impressive gold ornament for his cloak, was uncharacteristically solemn and withdrawn. His red eyes viewed Michael as both a friend and the reason for his misery, though they clasped arms in good humour in parting.

Michael took what the others considered a cruelly sadistic approach and pushed them to walk faster and harder than the previous day. Their feet and legs were stiff and tired, but Michael knew they had to toughen up and learn their lesson. They followed the river for the morning, stopping only to watch otters as they frolicked in the clear water. By his expression, Eadric couldn’t care less about otters, while Brother Tondbert took to miserably supporting his aching head with his hands, as if it was too heavy for his scrawny neck. His bulging eyes had taken on a cheerless demeanour as they stared out at the world in misery. The older and wiser Brother Oeric and Brother Horsa appeared unaffected, having kept their carousing to a minimum.

A steady rain set in. They soon arrived at a small village overshadowed by a prominent rock plug, the remnants of a long extinct volcano. Because of Eadric and Brother Tondbert’s obvious misery, Michael acquiesced to their pleas for rest. The locals told them of hot pools that could be found by the river, so they spent some time sitting naked in steaming water to soak away their aches and pains.

Eadric groaned in delight as he settled onto the sandy bottom.

“Oi! Come on, you’re not to get out of it that easy,” demanded Michael with a small smile.

“What?” groaned the young warrior.

“A warrior looks after himself, Eadric. You had this coming to you. You can get into the beor at home, but not when travelling, and definitely not in territory where there could be enemies,” Michael continued. “Now wash your loincloth. You have a spare?”

Eadric looked to Michael as if he was insane, but nodded dumbly.

“Care, Eadric, care. Wash yourself when you can. Care means attention to the little things. Care for your boots, keep your loincloth clean, and keep a dry spare at all times. Look after yourself and you’ll be a better warrior. Eat well, but not too much, and definitely drink less.”

Eadric looked to Michael in misery, but found his teacher wasn’t finished.

“Now get a handful of sand and give yourself a scrub with it.”

Eadric did as he was told but lacked enthusiasm. Michael looked to where the monks sat in a pool not far away. He laughed gently. “Thank God the monks are wearing their loincloths. I guess, by the smell of the good brothers, that those have never been washed.”

At the jibe, Eadric snorted and he began to look better.

“So you had a conquest, it seems,” quizzed Michael.

Eadric’s immediately adopted a chastened, wet-cat look and nodded mutely.

“So?” asked Michael cruelly.

Eadric groaned and blushed furiously. “I can’t remember much,” he complained.

Michael waited.

“It was the beor,” complained the young man. “She didn’t look like she did when we bedded.”

“Ha!” “Don’t,” complained Eadric.

“No, you don’t get out of it that easily,” laughed Michael. “Tell me more.”

Eadric was most reluctant, but Michael gradually extracted that the lad’s first ever night of unbridled passion was tempered when he awoke to replace his buxom lover was older, heavier, hairier, and nowhere near as attractive as he recalled. Michael laughed so hard that he shed tears and Eadric eventually laughed along in good grace.

As they journeyed, the travellers became even more familiar and comfortable with each other’s company. They passed through two more villages. Michael decided it best if they camped out that evening, away from temptation. A bare hilltop, where the forest had been cleared but crops not planted, was close to the river and made for a perfect site.

As they set up a simple lean-to shelter and lit a fire, Brother Horsa looked around with faint disapproval. “This is a place of the heathens, even before the Romans,” he sniffed.

They watched as Eadric gutted a couple of lovely trout they had caught earlier. Eadric had waved aside Michael’s bow and arrows to crouch silently in the shallows. Michael was impressed as Eadric gently tickled and then hefted them from the water bare-handed.

As the trout roasted in the coals, Michael ran Eadric through basic martial arts skills of kicks, punches and wristlocks. Michael made the monks also practice some of the moves on each other, something of which they thought to complain until they recognised his no-nonsense expression, so they meekly obeyed.

The fire and the clarity of the evening allowed the men’s damp, woollen clothes to dry as they relaxed, stomachs full and at peace with the world. Eadric had been curious about Michael being so fastidious as to take time to clean himself, brushing his teeth with a small brush and then chewing one of a small bunch of twigs Tatae had given him. She had explained that chewing the twigs not only freshened the breath, but cleaned the mouth and helped teeth to last longer, so Michael took up twig chewing as part of his evening ablutions. Michael gave Eadric one of the twigs to chew and told the mystified young man that every evening, when he could, he should also wash his feet and let his boots dry.

The sky cleared and the brilliant stars shone crisply as if scrubbed clean by the rain.

“The stars look beautiful tonight,” Michael said to no one in particular.

Eadric grunted and the monks stared into the heavens.

Brother Oeric eventually spoke up. “Lord Michael, what are the stars God has created? They are a mystery and many say they are the souls of the martyred saints to guide us back to our Father in Heaven.”

“That’s a lot of martyrs,” chuckled Michael.

“What do you know them to be, Lord?” asked Brother Horsa. He raised himself to rest his elbow on the ground and prop his head on his hand. They had taken to lying on beds of leaves they made near the fire, wrapping in blankets against the chill night air. His eyes were bright in the firelight, his curiosity intense. Michael saw no reason to be coy and thought a moment.

“Well…how big is God’s power?” he asked.

“He is endless, eternal and all-powerful,” replied Brother Oeric. The others grunted in agreement.

“Is there anything he cannot do?”

“Nay, Lord, he can do all things.”

“Did he create the heavens and the earth?”

“Aye, Lord, he did, in six days he created the heavens and the earth and all that are in them, and on the seventh day he rested.”

“Do we know all that God created in the heavens and the earth?” persisted Michael.

“Nay, Lord, many are mysteries to us,” replied Brother Horsa.

“Why? Are they mysteries because God doesn’t want us to know, or just that we do not know?”

That caused a pause for thought. Brother Horsa, predictably, was the first to reply. “Some things are to be known only after we seek diligently. In time, God will reveal what he will reveal.”

“Do you want to know what the stars are?” asked Michael.

“Aye, Lord, tell us!” answered Brother Tondbert with barely restrained enthusiasm. Normally Brother Oeric would remind him to remain humbly silent, though Brother Horsa’s eyes also shone eagerly.

Michael decided to change his tack slightly. “Have you travelled far?” Michael asked.

There was confused silence and Eadric then replied, “We’ve travelled three days from Giolgrave, Lord. That is far.”

“Is that the furthest you have travelled?”

“Aye, Lord,” nodded both Eadric and Brother Tondbert.

“I’ve travelled somewhat, Lord. I served the Lord in Winchester and have seen much of Aengland,” said Brother Horsa. Brother Oeric nodded.

“Have any of you travelled beyond the seas to Brittany, Denmark, or Rome?” Michael asked.

They laughed. “Nay, Lord, though I know of nobles who have journeyed on a pilgrimage to the holy city,” replied Brother Oeric.

“That is a long way, yes?” added Michael.

“Oh yes, Lord. To journey such and return takes one year or more and one is beset upon by dangers of all kind,” replied Brother Oeric.

“This world upon which we live is a very big place,” Michael explained. “What if I was to tell you that to travel to Rome is but a small journey when we look at the world that God has created. It’s full of marvels and dangers of all kinds.”

“Like the people who are black,” said Eadric excitedly. “Lord Michael told us of people with black skins when we hunted boar. Pray tell them of the black-skinned people, my Lord.”

This aroused the interest of the monks. Brother Horsa had heard of dark-skinned men, but not of skin that was black.

Michael smiled at their fascination. “Yes, there are nations of men and women who have black skins. There are other mighty peoples who have yellow skins and still others whose skins are said to be red. Many others are like us, with skins that are pale by comparison. Some follow God and others are yet to be brought to the knowledge of his truth. They speak in all manner of tongues, have different customs, different ways to worship, and wear all manner of clothes. Some wear none at all.”

This brought a gasp of shock from the monks, especially Brother Tondbert. Brother Oeric cast him a disciplinary glance.

“Have you seen these peoples, Lord?” asked Eadric with barely suppressed enthusiasm.

“Aye, Eadric, I’ve seen many of these peoples, have fought many and killed many and befriended many. Mine has been a very busy life,” mused Michael. “But we were talking about the stars, were we not?”

There was a murmured assent and they waited in rapt silence.

“This world is so much larger than most think, filled with all manner of peoples and animals of all kinds. The earth is warmed by the sun. Did you know that the sun is also much bigger than we would think it? It is much bigger than the world on which we live, yet only looks to be small as it is so far away from us. The stars are like this; each is a sun put into its special place by God. There are many, many more than the countless stars we see in the night sky.”

There was a stunned silence. The explanation was too much for Eadric and Brother Tondbert whose minds, Michael imagined, never ventured beyond the concept of people without clothes. Brother Oeric seemed to accept Michael’s words without too much concern, but Brother Horsa looked astonished and soon reclined, his eyes spinning in their sockets as he pondered Michael’s words.

They settled to sleep. In the darkness he heard Eadric’s voice, “My Lord, can you tell us more about the men with black skins?”