The rider’s horse was fine and his posture was ramrod straight.  As he approached, Iamerge recognized Rhaury Ui Birlinn.  He looked as if he’d had plenty of sleep and eaten well too, but perhaps that was Iamerge’s bitterness whispering in his ear. 

“Where are your brothers?” called down Rhaury from on high. 

Iamerge felt the urge to cut the man down to size, but he restrained himself.  Here is the man that may give me my money, best not offend him no matter my mood or his unintended provocation.  Instead of a sharp word, Iamerge smiled, “All of them are at their prayers, so I and Conal are left to see to the men.  I’m sure Gospels and the rest will be available directly.”

Rhaury looked puzzled, “You are not a member of their order?  I guess I assumed since you dress like them and were with Gospels that you were of their brotherhood.  I hope I didn’t give offense.”

“None taken.  Indeed Gospels rescued me from the sea out on the Skellig or I’d not be standing here today, clothed or no.  I was bound for Bellton, but was wrecked in a storm.”

“Truly?  Well that was good fortune.  These Monks, odd though they may seem to me, are a marvelous resource.  I do believe that it was good fortune for my men that Gospels and you came out to assist us.  More would have died, no doubt.”  Rhaury seemed to ponder where to go with the conversation from there while climbing down from his horse, “I came to see the men anyhow.  Perhaps I don’t need to speak to Gospels to see to them.”

“No, not at all, I’m sure that the men would be happy for a visit.”  Iamerge glanced at the bandages before adding, ”Those that would notice your coming anyhow.”  Rhaury looked pensive so Iamerge added, “We’re all in here, come say hello.”

Iamerge pushed the door open and went in ahead of Rhaury.  ”Welcome to our abode, the only one with a door,” quipped Iamerge.

Rhaury ducked as he entered, eyes flicking right and left to take in the interior. “That at least might need to change,”  He said half to himself as he walked into the room, ”Ah, I see Conal at least is well.”

The man beamed at Rhaury from where he lay, propped on his one elbow, “Hello there sir.  Aye, I’m well enough thanks to the brothers. . .” Conal glanced over at Iamerge before adding, “. . . and Iamerge of course.”

“It is good to see you in such good spirits,” said Rhaury.  “I’ve spoken to Niam, told her of your situation. . .”

Iamerge watched as Conal’s face fell, there was worry where Iamerge always found cheer.  Conal looked anywhere but at Rhaury or Iamerge, “I can’t see how I can be anything to her.” 

Rhaury walked over to the man’s bed and sat in thought for a moment, “It is a puzzle, but Niam might have a say in this, don’t you think?”

Iamerge blinked, dazzled by the brightness of the day as he walked out of the inn.  He cursed himself for a fool, looking at where he’d nearly been run down in the street and Jim Cooper had hauled him out of danger.  Were his street skills so impossibly rusted as all that?  If the self-styled Mayor of Rat Town had meant him ill he’d have dispatched Iamerge without breaking a sweat.

Despite the warm sunshine Iamerge shivered.  What madness, what trouble, what had come of all his plans?  The world had conspired to relieve him of his worldly possessions, true he’d done the better part of that by turning his back on his accumulated wealth and all its restrictive constraints by dying one of his convenient deaths, but he’d had hopes for the little boat and what little he’d taken on her, now smashed to pieces on Gospels’ skellig and scattered on the floor of the sea.  And now, coming to gather his well hid seed money, he’d nearly been trampled by the man he meant to find.  And there was another ill turn the world had thrown him, it wasn’t the man he’d hoped, but his son. 

Iamerge took more care as he entered  street again, this time he had more company and less scrutiny, there was no Jim Cooper and everyone else seemed intent on their own business.  Iamerge blended into the human stream and walked into town toward what he guessed would be a town square. 

He walked, carefully now, and he observed.  Iamerge had nothing at all in the world that he could call his own, but he’d risen to rule empires again and again.   It shouldn’t matter.  But when had the world been so against him?

Iamerge laughed, Stop your mopeing old Smoke.  You saw worse when you lost your first boat to pirates and avoided slavery only by merest good fortune.  That time you’d never survived and thrived half a dozen times, but that first time you did like all the rest.  Iamerge grinned, “What could be better for a life grown stale then a little adventure?” He said and winked at the old woman who looked at him questioning, perhaps his sanity, him talking to himself or the air and all.  Iamerge walked on whistling a tune and looking for opportunity.

“Not much to tell.”  Iamerge’s mind raced as he thought over what he should and shouldn’t tell.  The best course always seemed to reveal the least, “I washed up on the Skellig and Gospels was there to pull me out, care for me, feed me, such as there was on that bleak place.”

Jim Cooper nodded, knowingly, “Tis said there’s naught to eat and the saints perch there for months living on water and sea foam, then there’s some who say that their god gives them food, and others that say that they’ve a fat larder there and since they don’t eat here its there they go to eat.”

Iamerge laughed, “Well, as to the larder, I saw none, I ate no sea foam, and Gospels gave me bits of dry fish, some little leaves of green herb, and sometimes raw egg of sea birds on the isle, if it was his god that gave him that to eat then he isn’t a very generous god.”

“You make it sound like there is no fuel at all, nothing to burn.”

“Unless you can make wet stone burn there is naught of that at all.”

“Incredible, how did you live?”

“How did Gospels live before I came?  I’ll tell you I’ve never slept better than I did in their guest house last night.  Not because of any opulence, just not the austerity of the rock.  There are five men out there now.  I don’t know why they do it.”

“No wonder they have produce and more to sell, they don’t eat any of it,”  said Jim Cooper to himself as much to Iamerge.  “What do you know of their god?  I confess, they don’t have much truck with old Jim, but I’ve heard their bell and I’ve heard their weird singing a time or two.  They seem virtuous, but I’d say men that virtuous can only get in the way of a man’s business.  In the end.”

“To tell you the truth I can’t speak to the beliefs of the monks like Gospels, they are new to me as well.  But I can’t say anything against them, they seem virtuous, generous, and good to a fault.  I do take your meaning though, I think.  What’s a man to do who can’t live up to such a standard?  What must they think of those who don’t live as they do?”  Iamerge took another drink from his cup and cleared his throat, “Still, if I understand them, they serve the same God, the Lord they call him, who is served by the Jews that I knew quite well.  It seems to me that they are similar in their kindnesses and that it is their Lord who commands it of them.”

“So, these Jews grew food that they did not eat as well?”

Iamerge laughed at that, “Oh no, not so.  The Jews were adept at trade, at numbers, at drawing value from a thing.  It seems to me that the Jews took part in the blessings that their Lord brought them.  The monks like Gospels are prospered and they choose not to partake, indeed they take pride in denying themselves.  I can’t say if it is their Lord that demands that privation of one and not the other or what the truth of it is.”

“It sounds to me that you’ve travelled a far piece Iamerge.  I’ve never heard of these Jews.  Then again, I’d not heard of these monks either ’til I came here.”

“I would have thought to be the mayor of Rat Town you’d have had to be born here.”

“Oh no, I wasn’t born here, nor most of the rats for that matter.  They come on the boats, but I came from Cooperstown.  I’d be there still if there was one.”  For once Jim seemed a bit sad, “Mayhaps again.  But that’s nobody’s business.  Not yet.” The two men fell silent and they sat and nursed their drinks in the cool darkness.

“So, do you think that Ua Birlinn might have returned by now?”

Jim laughed, “Oh you and Ruaridh will get along famously, all business aren’t you?  I’d like to say that he’d be back by now, but I can’t. I figure you’ve got more of a wait than his returning.  Single minded he is, just like you.  I figure he’ll be about what ever took him out of here so fast a bit longer than it takes him to get there and back.  Don’t you?  Jim got up and moved back around the bar.  “A waste of a day I’d say.  Not like to be see’n visitors, since you’re ask’n me.”  Cooper refilled his ale and looked at Iamerge, “Can I get you a refill lad?”

Iamerge sighed, ”No, thanks.  I think I’ll get the lay of the land at least.  Perhaps I can find out a bit more about what’s happened and when I might speak to Ua Birlinn.  My thanks though, for the ale and the conversation.”

“Suit yourself.  Have a look, but come back by if you like.  I might have found a bit out myself by then.” Cooper winked and walked off toward the kitchen, “I do wonder where ol’ Mare has got to.”

Iamerge rose and went up the dark stair and out into the day.

Smoke sat and thought about what he would do with this new life.  He wanted to at least say goodbye to Gospels before he left and perhaps he could impose for another night, with directions and a nights sleep.  Another sigh escaped, he did not relish sleeping again on a stone bench, but at least it would keep the dew off of him.

So engrossed was he with his plans that he didn’t hear the end of the monks chanting nor did he notice as Gospels approached. 

“I’m sorry my friend, I abandoned you.”

Smoke must have jumped, Gospels approached more slowly not wanting to cause alarm. ”No no, as soon as I heard the Psalms I knew what had happened.  Before the Golden One set I saw the town.

“At least now I can offer you a bit more hospitality,” said Gospels. 

“Will we share a stone bench or will I have one all to myself?” quipped Smoke.

Gospels laughed, “No, I shall have my old stone bench and you will have a bed, the best we have, though that isn’t saying much.  There is a guest house.  Hospitality is important to this order.  Though there is no evening meal for the brothers, you and I are being offered a repast, you as our guest and I get to share it for company and on account of my fast.”

“Thank you Gospels, I accept.  Will there be bird egg and moss gruel? I have to confess a growing fondness for it.”

“Perhaps if you must, that can be arranged tomorrow.  Tonight I think we will dine on more common fare.  I hope you will like it.”

“Common to you or to me, Gospels?”

“Come and see.  I don’t think you saw our hospitality at its best on the Skellig.  The larder was a bit bare.  All we had was not very much I’ll grant you.” Gospels turned and walked down toward the buildings. “I’ll show you the guest house.  I think there may be water for washing along with the dinner.”

Smoke followed, “I’m sorry I teased Gospels, I’m pleased to be free of that isle.  I pity those poor monks who took our place.”

“Just ahead here. See? There is light from the doorway.”

The day was dying, especially in the shaded landing, but the monks, Ezekiel and all, disappeared up a stairway leaving Smoke by the boat.  He pondered the meaning of this as he made his way up the same stairs but cautiously because of his unfamiliarity and the growing darkness.

As he crested the stairway and looked out over the abbey, for that is what he assumed it to be, he saw the greater sun at the horizon turning the clouds red and gold.  Across the fields he could see the small harbor he had hoped to reach when weather and bad luck had cast him up on Gospel’s shore.

Shining Star had not climbed much above that opposite horizon so it’s weak blue light did nothing to the magnificence of the light show.  Below him were more of the little huts that he’d found so uncomfortable on the skellig.  It seemed that the poverty of Gospel’s order extended to the mainland.  And then he knew why they had left him.  Psalmns began in the cool dusk, praise to a Creator that this moment of startling beauty made real.

Their voices were beautiful too, thought Smoke.  Oddly alien to his ear were harmonies that Gospel alone could not perform.  Did Gospels hear his brothers when he sang alone on the skellig?  Was that the secret of the solitary devotee?  This chorus, this night, was wealth that could not be bought.  And too, Smoke knew they had books.

Beyond the little abbey was the sort of world that Smoke had known.  The bustle of trade, of commerce.  This backwater would be a far cry from the cities he had mastered, but the challenge was the same.  What if his connection, his hold stake, secreted away in this far corner of the world wasn’t safe?  He’d started with less, but nobody wants to start from rock bottom if they don’t have to.

A sigh of relief burst out unbidden.  There was nothing for it but to make his inquiries and then his plans.  A new life awaited and he was master of his destiny again.