Traveller Probo

Michael and Yffi waited in the chill as the medical team arrived. The newcomers were dressed as Saxons but the attempt seemed half-hearted. The three women and five men included Poxon, who was greeted as a friend and comrade. Wicks was also in attendance as guard.

As they stepped from the Area of Convergence, the dogs snuffed excitedly to familiarise themselves with the newcomers scent. One of the women stood stock still, her eyes closed in terror as the big dogs stuck eager noses into her groin and arse before sniffing feet and packs. Yffi smiled his gap-toothed smile and said, “Don’t worry yourself lass, they like you!” When his comments were translated, the young, red-headed doctor nodded and smiled in thanks. Yffi appraised her for a while, for he seemed to like her too. Her dusting of makeup made her look almost angelic. She was a pretty young thing and Michael doubted that his friend had ever seen a red-headed woman before.

The others in the new team stared with open-mouthed wonder at the natural cathedral of the glade. “My God,” exclaimed one of the doctors reverently. “Pictures just don’t do this place any justice do they?

Michael shook hands with Wicks, who wore a holstered pistol strapped to his waist. With Poxon, he at least looked the part. Poxon was chief medical liaison and they spoke in Saxon Aenglish. “Great to see you lads,” he nodded as he too looked about in wonder. “I didn’t get a chance to appreciate how lovely this place is, having deployed here in the middle of the night.”

Michael gave a small wince, as Poxon had the appalling accent he must have had when he first came into the forests those years ago. They bent to collect their packs and Yffi assisted the redhead, who accepted his help with a small smile and the hint of a blush.

They hiked for almost two-hours, during which time Yffi seemed preoccupied by the young nurse. The newcomers made an unbelievable amount of noise, as they stomped and constantly stopped to look at one sight and then another as they took photographs. Michael was not at all surprised that they saw no wildlife. Any creature would have fled from the noise and the scent of the three dogs. With a glance at Michael, it was apparent that Yffi found the situation highly amusing.

When they finally arrived at Giolgrave, the villagers gathered to stare and give a cautious welcome, though Poxon was hugged and kissed as a son returned home. He had saved the life of many a man in the village for which all were grateful. After Godric’s gruff welcome, Poxon advised that the team was to help the villagers, to bring comfort in the winter cold. This caused an outburst of laughter from the adults. “Umm, Poxon, you have to brush up your language skills lad,” explained Michael quietly. “The locals use the term ‘give special comfort in the cold’ as a euphemism for sex.”

Brother Horsa then welcomed the visitors with a brief liturgy and blessing. Before the visitors took their gear to the unfinished village hall, they broke out gifts of Christmas hams, cakes, and a range of sweets and biscuits. Michael frowned but only shrugged.

The afternoon faded as Poxon and the senior medical officer, Dr Glenda Fitzgerald, inspected their facilities. The incomplete village hall was without thatching and they gazed through the rough supporting beams to the cloudy sky as the rest of the medical team set up their examination areas. The women were to be examined by the female medical team, assisted by Tatae and her assistants, while the men were to be examined by Poxon and the male doctors, assisted by Brother Horsa. Above them, Wicks was assisted by a few of the village lads as they covered the structure with a tarpaulin. The temporary shelter would become quarters for work and sleep.

The team’s modern equipment was a mystery, as lights, hand-held scanners and specialised equipment for gynaecological examinations were likely to intimidate or amuse. Tatae seemed relaxed about their procedures and, once the villagers got to know their visitors, all treated the process with their usual good humour. Seeing Michael’s concern, Tatae gave him a hug of support and a smile. The Traveller looked to the people of the village, people he loved, and again hoped he was doing the right thing.

Predictably, the villagers soon adopted a festive air. That evening, at the location where Michael first played for the villagers, a bonfire had been prepared. The village women brought out cauldrons of stew and their rock-hard local sausage; hogva, which was cut into pieces and placed with the ham into the pots. A surprising variety of food was laid out in a feast. Mushrooms, tiny wild fruits, chunks of rock-hard bread, and even greens were in abundance.

The villagers and monks lugged a barrel of beor and, while children and dogs ran and made lots of noise they made ready for a night of fun and frivolity.

Michael soon brought out his mandolin and the village danced and sang. What surprised the villagers most was the golden voice of Poxon who sang a few songs none could understand but which brought a tear to many an eye. The women strangers also sang together as all danced the night away.

Yes, the Saxons certainly knew how to party.