“What is it Abbo… err, brother Gospels.” said the young brother.  Iamerge noticed it was Hebrews as he gave Iamerge a shy smile and nod.

“Iamerge believes there has been another trade caravan attacked.” said Gospels.  “It has been some time since the rescue party or perhaps relief has gone out.  There may be dead and likely injured from one party or the other.”

“Dire news.” Hebrews gasped, though it seemed to Iamerge that there was more of excitement than horror in it, “Shall I gather some brothers and. . .” Hebrews looked puzzled, “which way should we go?”

“Go first to the Abbott, I do not command any but myself.  Say only that Gospels recommends that the guest house be prepared to receive wounded.  Then if he thinks it wise and at his command come after we two who will go on down the South road to see what we may see of this disaster.”

“Could I not come with. . .”

“No Hebrews, the brothers must hear of this first, and the Abbott must make what provision he sees fit.  Just tell him that we go down the South Road after Ui Birlinn and several mounted men and that we know nothing more of what may have happened.  Your speed will be a greater blessing to bring the word and likely you will catch up to us even with carts and stretchers and all manner of healing herbs in tow.”

“Yes Abbo. . .  I mean brother.”

“Off with you,” said Gospels, but Hebrews was already running toward the monastery with his habit hiked up to free his legs for maximum speed. “The righteous will live by faith, and there are few more faithful than that boy.” Gospels glanced at Iamerge, “I hope that I didn’t speak out of turn when I said we would go ahead.”

“I will go with no complaints.  I should like to know what all the fuss is about.  Then too, getting it straight at the source will give me some news to bargain with the mayor of rat town.” quipped Iamerge as he readied himself for the walk.

“Indeed, Mr. Cooper will want to know all about it, I’ve no doubt.” And off Gospels walked at a goodly clip.  Iamerge followed.

Gospels lead straight down the hill and onto the road.  When they settled on a comfortable pace Iamerge asked, “This is not the first attack I gathered.  Do you know who is doing it or why?”

Gospels frowned, “Sadly no, if it were bandits there would be less of value left behind.  Sometimes bandits take hostages and make demands.  But this is just slaughter.”

“And they take nothing of value?”

“I didn’t say that, much is left, but not weapons nor things that can easily be made into weapons.  Sometimes they leave their own weapons behind, heavy stone axes, brutal spears, clubs, that sort of thing.  They take food and sometimes they kill horses, but they don’t seem to take them.”

“Who are they?” ask Iamerge.

“That no one knows.”

They walked on in silence for awhile.  Matching each other, they strode down the road.  After awhile, Iamerge noticed that Gospels was glancing over at him from time to time.  He wondered if perhaps the pace was growing too much so he eased off.  Gospels continued to glance over as they walked a little slower.

“Iamerge,” Gospels said finally.

“Yes?” he answered.

“I hope I didn’t press you into something you wouldn’t otherwise have done.”  Gospels laughed, “It is like me to charge off on this sort of venture, but I’m getting older if not wiser at the same pace.”

Iamerge smiled, “No no, I’m glad to go.  I should have thought to bring word to all of you.  Just, in town it seemed of no consequence to any but Ui Birlinn and his party so I guess I thought it must have been a thing very far away.”

“True, it might be.” Gospels began, “But Rhuary is cautious where his father was, well, impetuous like me,” he laughed again. “If he rode hard out of the town then I think it likely that it was no farther than horses might run safely.  Horses are not easy to come by here abouts.” Gospels looked sidelong at Iamerge.

“Did I mention that Ui Birlinn was the one with whom I had business?

“I’m not positive, but I inferred it.”

“So it seems my business lies this way also.”

“Indeed, I should confess that I believe you are a survivor.  I would charge ahead when wisdom, and survival, might bid me wait.  So, I hoped to bring you for some degree of protection, if not from villains then certainly from myself.”

It was Iamerge’s turn to chuckle, “Well then, if I get that feeling, I’ll bid us both stop and if need be reverse and run us back to Hebrews.”

“That is wisdom,” said Gospels, “I expect that young man soon enough.”

“Ah, then I’m warned,” Iamerge laughed, “I’ll keep an eye on our tail lest young Hebrews runs us down in his haste to get to the adventure.”

“I would scold you for wronging my dear brother, but I suspect you may be right.”  Smiling they both walked toward the crest of the hill

Gospels grew serious, cleared his throat he said. “I pray God this isn’t what I fear, but I pray without much hope.  These attacks have become more frequent and this, well, this is too near for my peace of mind.”

They crested the hill and began to descend into another valley.  Almost immediately they saw below them a chaos of broken carts and broken men.  There was little enough movement, but there were clearly men moving through the wreckage.  Then off to their right, on a turning they saw a caravan making its way up toward them.

A shadow passed close and Iamerge woke disoriented and a bit confused.  “Iamerge?” a voice said.  Iamerge opened his eyes and was blinded by the sun, lower now and shining directly in his eyes.

Blinking, he threw his arm over his eyes, “yes, I’m here.”

Seeing Iamerge’s discomfort, Gospels moved to his side, “I didn’t see you after Teirt, and I was afraid you’d left us. . .” Gospels seemed to run out of words or pause to consider, “. . .I had hoped to ask you about what you meant to do.”

Iamerge probably shouldn’t have been irritated by the monks prying, but the muddle he’d made of his morning angered him too much, “What, am I not allowed to leave this place? It’s really none of your business what I do.”  He instantly regretted his pique, but it was too late, the words were spoken and he saw Gospels harden at his harsh words.

Before he could speak to take back what he’d said he saw the battle on Gospel’s face and then, remarkably, a sheepish smile grew where there had been wounded pride, “You are quite right my friend.  I . . .  I have the habit of command from when I was Abbott you know.  And now, perhaps for pride, I’ve imagined some work that the Lord has for me through you.  I apologize.” 

Iamerge imagined he must have looked like a stranded fish, gaping and gasping, but before he could even be gracious enough to apologize himself or even to accept the one offered, the older man plunged on, “Might I sit with you Iamerge?”

“Certainly, oh please do.  I only meant. . .   I didn’t mean rather. . .     This morning did not go as I’d planned.”

Gospels plopped down beside him with a little groan, “Indeed, I was just surprised that you had business in the town.  And too, very happy that you’d returned seeing that you did.”

“I’m sorry for snapping at you Gospels, you’ve been so kind to me.”

“Yes, and brought you here and abandoned you.  It was about that which I wanted to talk to you.  As it happens, though I return as one of the brothers here. . .  Well, I’m not.”

“No?”

“No, I was the Abbott.  Then I abandoned my post on my personal quest and left many problems.  And no doubt the Lord would have sorted out all that in time, but my return has done nothing to further healing and much to hurt it.”

“I see. . .”

“In part perhaps, but the rest of it is that I am convinced that God led me to this seeming madness that I might be the instrument of your salvation.  In this I may be engaging in pridefulness. . .”

“But you did save me.”

“No.  No Iamerge.  In truth I was there to see it, but it was the hand of God that plucked you from the flood.  I see that.”

“How can you say that?  I would have died, if not drowned then starved, or of the cold.”

Gospels smiled, “No, I believe that the God who created the world and upholds that creation by his will could uphold you.  Out of the sea, out of hunger, it matters not.”  The old man laughed and leaned back against the tree with his eyes closed, “And so here I am and again I do not know why.  I pray thee God, please show me what to do.” 

Gospels seemed to fall into reverie or sleep.  All this was strange to Iamerge though it reminded him of time he had spent with the old Jewish book-keeper who had taught him letters and opened to him the world of books.

“Look, Gospels, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, but I expected to be able to get a small amount of money, some seed money to begin again.  I would never have left without saying good-bye.  Or left at all, I really don’t know what I’m going to do.  In fact I thought I might be able to repay your kindness to me.” Iamerge glanced over at Gospels to see if they had had any effect, he doesn’t believe a word I am saying and why should he?  I’m not sure what I would have done then and I don’t really know now.

“Before it seemed so easy.  I thought I would sail into the port, get my money, and begin a new life, but all that has changed as you know.  I’ve no boat, the money is in doubt, and the man I went to meet is dead and his son nearly ran me down riding out of town to some emergency.”

Gospels seemed to come back, he looked hard at Iamerge, “What sort of emergency was this?”

“I’m not really sure, I think it was an attack on a trade caravan, at least that’s what Jim Cooper thought.  It was he who pulled me out of the path of the riders returning to town and the one who told me that Rhaury Ui Birlinn rode back out with a small army of guards to see to it.”  Gospels clamoured to his feet, obviously agitated. ”Gospels what is it?” 

Gospels put his fingers in his mouth and shrilled a whistle that made Iamerge’s ears ring.  A young monk working in a field nearby rushed toward them.

“You’re into town early, brother.” The fellow lounged just inside the gate of a paddock, apparently associated with the nearby rhamshackled inn.  “What brings you to Bellhaven so early?” 

Iamerge stopped and looked at the fellow.  “Well, I’m looking for somebody.  A business matter. . .”

“Business?  Well, then you’ve met your man.  Why, I’m the mayor of Rat Town.”

“Rat town?”

“Sure sure, this ain’t Fish Town, this ain’t the Square, this ain’t the Hill, it’s Rat Town.” The man chuckled to himself, “Truth is t’was rats voted me mayor, so it ain’t rit down or noth’n.  Still, you ask anybody who’s the mayor of Rat Town and they’ll say old Jim is.

“Yes, well good to meet you. . .”

“Jim, Jim Cooper is my name.  I make my way, sure I do.  I know what’s what, and who, that I do.  If you need know’n you talk to old Jim. You ask anyone who the mayor of Rat Town is, they’ll tell you, old Jim is, sure enough.

“I’ll remember your honor.”

Cooper laughed at that and jumped to his feet, “I like you.  Most of them brothers don’t want noth’n to do with old Jim, but you ain’t no brother at all are you?”

Iamerge whirled on the man who was standing in the gate now, not lounging, on his guard, “Why do you say that?” 

Cooper laughed again,  “Well you can take the monk out of the habit, but you can’t take the habits out of the man.  Most of your brothers cut the front of their hair off.  You look like nobody cut your hair for awhile.”  Cooper’s chuckle lost its humor, “No brother’d have much to do with old Jim, but that don’t mean we in town don’t know their worth.  You aren’t likely to find no friend around here if you did them ill.  So how’d you come dressed like a brother to Bellhaven lad, and don’t try to tell Jim no tale.” 

“I’m looking for a man, just looking for him,”  Iamerge stepped back toward the center of the street.

“Now that’s not what I asked,” And Jim Cooper, or whoever he was, moved after, staying closer than Iamerge liked.

“I’m staying with the brothers, with Gospels,”  He said, defensively. There was a rumbling, but Iamerge’s attention was on old Jim, who moved like a fighter and not that old either.  The rumbling sound was louder, drawing his attention, He saw horses and men bearing down, and in that moment Cooper had a fist full of Iamerge’s garment and was yanking him into the paddock.

“It was no jest when I said that we had little comfort here.  There is a shift like this that I wear by your head, and too, your clothes, such as they are after the sea, are drying though not yet dry.”

“Perhaps I’ll get around to the kitchen and sit by the fire.”

White Hands frowned, “This may be difficult for you, there is no kitchen, nor fire.  Rest here.  I will bring the treasure for you to see.”  White Hands bussled out the door.

Smoke gathered himself, the room was chilly and damp.  He slipped on the rough fabric of the garment, covering his head with the hood.  He draped an animal skin around his shoulders and began to feel warm again.  No fire, truely this place seemed the poorest he had ever seen.  Even in the city streets amongst the filth there was material, at least fuel for a fire, something, here there was only stone and wind and wet.

True to his word White Hands returned.  He bore a skin wrapped package and atop it a candle.  He produced a tinderbox and with a little effort made a flame and lit the candle.  “We value words you know.” White Hands spoke as he unwrapped the package, “And so for us this written word is of utmost value.  But that isn’t why this place is so austere.  We seek places like this,  places of contemplation amid privation.  Places where one can hear a still small voice.  I don’t imagine that you understand, but this place has been used by my brethren because of its difficulty not inspite of it.  We seek to remove all distraction so that we may focus on God alone, and His Christ.”

“It would seem that the harshness would distract. . .”

Okay I’ve lost my way in this.  I’ll have to get back to this later.

Dear Reader,

Nothing stays the same.  That is true of my work situation as much as it is true of life in general.  I’m really talking about specifics though.  I am not going to have the leisure of long break periods with access to the Internet with which to further my writing on these pages.

As with everything, this could be bad, or this could be good.  I won’t be able to sit down and fict.  (fict is a new word that I just made up.  the act of writing fiction and a slapdash way  that does not deserve the keystrokes that make up “write fiction”) Sadly I wasn’t really doing that anyway.  So, I hope that I can develop a habit of writing at home. 

Stay tuned.  And if I begin to slow an encouraging word might be more effective than you’d think. 

Thanks for your kind attention

LSO