Traveller Probo

The tiny stone church was insufficient for the villagers’ needs on this most auspicious occasion, so the crowd gathered outside the simple stone and timber building in the spring sunshine. In his place of honour stood Hurley with Thegn Godric. They were to be the spiritual guides for the wee girl, a role Hurley imagined was something like a modern godfather. Though Hurley doubted his suitability for the role, he watched with interest as Brother Horsa wet the head of tiny Genovefa. Michael and Tatae stood solemnly as the priest sang a litany and the rest of the village joined in. Every hunter and farmer was there. Even the children stood politely, having been scrubbed to a most uncommon clean that, Hurley suspected, would last only moments after the priest was done. Not a villager had missed the occasion.

When he was invited to the christening, there was no way that Hurley wouldn’t attend. Michael had made it plain that he wanted as little interaction between the villagers and 21st Century strangers as possible but Hurley was the exception. All other Saxon Travellers were now on missions, so the 21st Century public, along with members of Transporter Corp and other military were left to participate through the coverage offered by the omnipresent cameras.

Hurley sighed. Some noses were sure to put out of joint, he thought with a smile. Yes, it was good to be back.

As Brother Horsa anointed the head of Hunter’s precious little girl, Hurley caught his friend’s small smile of amusement. Hunter’s life had become a balancing act between Tatae’s view of the world, the monks’ Christian beliefs, and the requests of the 21st Century. Unknown to Brother Horsa and the monks, Genovefa had already received her name and blessing through a more ancient ceremony performed the night before. Already protective of her daughter’s spiritual welfare, Tatae had been most reluctant to permit her daughter to be blessed by the Benedictine monk, only giving her consent on the condition the old rites were performed first. The naming of her daughter was to honour the old Gods, the Gods of her mother and the wise women who had gone before.

The ceremony had been held in the oaken glade which was also the Transporter Area of Convergence. It was ironic that the Transporter was to open up a gateway in Time at a place that was sacred to the wise women, a place sacred even before Hunter’s arrival.

Was that a coincidence?

After the medical team had departed, Tatae and her acolytes had performed extensive purifying rites to make the glade suitable for their sacred rites.

Only a few witnessed Genovefa’s naming. Yffi and one of his hunters stood by Hurley and Hunter to represent the power of the men, though it was made quite clear that this occasion was of women. Tatae blessed the child with fire, water, air, rock, trees and, last of all, the stars. The glade seemed to thrum with ancient power. Was it the drum of insects or the subconscious acceptance of ancient spirituality? Hurley wasn’t sure. It was probably psychosomatic. At least it felt friendly. The experience was probably enhanced by the copious herbs the women had thrown onto the blazing bonfire.

Even Yffi hadn’t commented on the nudity of the young women. That was, at least, until after the ceremony had been completed.

Brother Horsa kissed the infant’s wrinkled forehead to complete the Christian ceremony. Hurley liked the priest. He was certainly nothing like wizened old Brother Oeric. Brother Horsa was more a man of learning and science. Though dedicated to the Benedictine order, it was plain that he was motivated more by discovery of this world rather than anticipation of the next. He had been jubilant when asked to bless Genovefa, for his faith had been losing ground against the teachings and philosophies of Tatae. Before the hunting accident that killed Wicks, Brother Horsa had spoken to Hurley about the trials the monks had been faced with in rebuilding their brotherhood. He had even asked Hurley to take him to his ‘heavenly home,’ so he could also learn of their sacred ways.

Hunter chuckled as Hurley told him of the monk’s persistence. “Yeah, I know what you mean. His requests have been almost badgering and he has used the argument of having a fair shot at it. After all, Tatae has been twice. Tatae won’t tell him a thing, of course, and their relationship has become even frostier of late.”

“I think I broke his heart,” Hurley added with his habitual grin of mischief. “In the end I had to tell him that a visit to our home would never be his blessing, until he died.”

“What!” responded Hunter, then he laughed. “He’s the one most affected by the medical team, and that’s without him having any procedures. I should’ve realised he would be totally into the science. It’s my bloody fault. Seems he learned a smattering of things like the circulatory system, the stars, and a warped understanding of electricity. Some idiot told him that people at home actually flew.”

Hurley chuckled to himself. Yes, their home would sound like heaven indeed.

Later, at the christening feast, Genovefa was kidnapped by the women who cooed and fussed over her as Hunter accepted the congratulations of the men of the village. Godric gave his friend a thick arm to grasp as he huffed through his moustache. “First of many, I hope,” he smiled.

Hunter nodded, “Well, she’s still willing, and so am I.”

There were guffaws and Desmond gave Hunter a hearty slap, “Well, ya can’t ask for more, Lord Michael. Ye wife is good and so is your babe. She looks healthy, that wee one.”

“Which?” asked Hurley. “Tatae or Genovefa?”

There was more ribald laughter and Desmond nodded as he blushed, “Well, both man, both!”

Brother Horsa later came to speak as they poured beor into timber tankards. Hurley half expected the monk to continue his usual requests to visit the heavenly home but the monk seemed to have a new passion. His eyes shone with excitement, “Lord Michael, Lord Hurley, the Holy Spirit was with us today.” He gestured to the sunshine and the happy villagers. “What a beautiful day to add another choice soul to the fold of the Lord.”

“It is a beautiful day and we’re both grateful for you blessing wee Genovefa”, smiled Hunter. Brother Horsa looked across to Tatae, who was radiant with joy. Hurley noted with amusement that Godric’s eldest daughter, Eabae, seemed particularly interested in holding Hunter’s daughter.

The monk nodded. “I’m grateful that you convinced Tatae to permit your daughter’s naming. We know it’s best for the child’s soul.”

“You did well my good Prior,” smiled Hunter, who looked every inch the proud, father. “We’re both grateful. Tatae would have none but you perform such an important ceremony.”

The monk paused and frowned and went to say something but then closed his mouth abruptly. It was well known that Tatae didn’t trust the monks, least of all him. She often accused Brother Horsa of trying to steal her knowledge. But he tactfully inclined his head in gratitude and continued his train of thought. “My Lords, I have spent many nights on my knees praying for guidance and I ask for your forgiveness, for I have been desirous to visit your home. I have asked Lord Hurley for such a blessing and I realise mine was a sin of covetousness, for I desired that which was not to be mine.”

Hunter went to reply but Brother Horsa hurried on. “It has been some years since the Vikings scourged us. Most of my dear brothers were martyred and taken to the Lord and, unworthy that I am, I’ve been given the burden of responsibility for the spiritual guidance of our people. Together, the brothers have cared for the holy relics and scripture, having rescued them from the destroyers. Now, I see we must return that which is holy.”

Hunter frowned “What do you mean?” he asked. It was unusual for the Prior to be so circumspect.

Brother Horsa watched as a few of the villagers wandered close and he waited for them to move away before he continued. He bowed his head and spoke quietly. “I’m a sinful man, my Lords, with the sins of procrastination and covetousness. I’ve been instructed by the Lord to take the sacred relic and the scriptures back to Snotengaham. I’ve been told on numerous occasions but I ignored the promptings of the Spirit because I sought to satisfy my own desires for worldly knowledge. My signs were that you would be given a daughter, she would be christened into the true faith, and Lord Hurley would again return. My brothers in Christ and I are to take the sacred objects to the brothers in Snotengaham and join them there.”

“What!” Hurley responded in surprise. “You mean leave the village?”

Brother Horsa nodded wearily, “Aye Lord Hurley. It’s a burden I’ve been compelled to accept. Our brothers no longer have access to a monastery and our numbers have declined. I’ve been faced with the task as to how to increase our numbers but to no avail. The Vikings and the difficult winter took such a toll and I’ve been left to ponder, how can we provide spiritual salvation to our brothers and sisters? How do we heal this land that has been so wracked by war?”

“But Prior Horsa, will you leave the people of Giolgrave alone?” asked Hunter. Hurley could tell his friend couldn’t imagine Giolgrave without the brothers.

Brother Horsa shook his head slowly, “No Lord Michael. Brother Aldhelm would be best to see to the spiritual needs of the people of Giolgrave. He will perform the Lord’s work as the village priest. Working with the support of numbers has been something I learned from your people, when they gave us succour. It was a lesson I was slow to learn. Then I saw the men build our village hall and, in my prayer and meditation, I watched the ants as they built a new home after a storm. I realised that the brothers of Giolgrave had strength in numbers, that the monastery and the bakery were only possible when a number of us worked together.”

“But your numbers will grow. It only takes time, surely?” suggested Hunter.

Brother Horsa shook his head in gentle disagreement. “No, my Lords, our time here is at an end. I’ve spoken with the traders and sent a message to the brothers in Snotengaham. I didn’t believe all there were lost. I’ve since heard that the monastery, the entire community, was burned and yet only a few brothers were killed.” The monk looked into the forest and then turned his beseeching gaze to Hunter. His grey eyes were wide and, Hurley realised, exhausted. “The thegn of Snotengaham, who is of Viking blood, sued for peace before the young Prince Cnut and his army arrived. Though Abbott Anna was one of the few to fall in his defence of the monastery, the Danes now rule in peace.” He sighed before he continued. “God works mysteriously. Many of the marauders have become followers of the true faith and now encourage the building of a new church and monastery, though humble compared to that where Abbott Ana held court. On hearing of our desire to join them, the brothers gave thanks to our Lord that we live. There is an Abbott who goes by the name of George, who seeks to gather the brothers together to build strength. Once we grow, we can travel to preach the word of God to our people and to the Danes who now live throughout Aengland.”

Hunter nodded, “When?” He looked as if his heart would break. Hurley knew his friend loved the humble brothers, for they were an important part of his experiences in Saxon Aengland. How different would his time have been if he had not met the monks first.

Brother Horsa just shrugged and nodded sadly. “Soon.”