CHAPTER XIII
As the sun showed his face after so many days of hiding, so was Haldora able to leave her hiding place. A whole on the bark on an old tree had been her home. Haldora walked barefoot through a great green and muddy field. She was happy to fell the ground beneath her. It seemed Otr had giving her a gift, the gift of touch. Her skin did not feel as cold as before, thought it still had a pale tonality. The sun still was hurtful to her eyes, but the sheer pleasure of being among mortals again made the hurt worth while. The country she was in was completely different then the one’s she had been. The sun was warm and the breeze was light, there was a faint smell of the sea in the air. She walked until she found a large town. Her first instinct was to hide. Haldora looked at herself; she smiled, she could think of no reason why she could not pass for mortal. She headed for the large town.
As she entered this busy town, she found people, who spoke a new language, they almost seemed to sing. They were selling in a market place, similar to the one’s she knew in her own village. If their clothes had been different this could be any given day in her hometown. She walked across this market, till she reached a stand, where dresses were exposed. She stopped to admire them. She touched one of the dresses and the owner of the stand came and shoved her away. Haldora came back. The lady in front of the stand seemed angry and spoke as loud as she could, though Haldora could not make out what she was saying. Haldora showed the lady, the dress was torn. The lady was amazed she could see such a tiny tare. Haldora moved behind the stand, to find needles and threads. She separated each thread, till she had only one. She threaded it into the needle and with a masters precision she sewed the tiny tare. The lady was amazed at what had happened. Although they did not spoke the same language, Haldora began working for this lady as a seamstress.
Haldora’s fame was great. Soon the small stand in the market place grew into a small shop. Haldora was earning money but most important was that she was accepted. After a few months, Haldora could already speak the language of this new country. She understood her fame, but remained quiet about her past. She kept quiet about everything, her partner seemed to talk for both of them and people perceived Haldora as mute and she had never gone against it. She was known as the dumb seamstress.
As Haldora worked one day, men in uniforms came to the door of her small shop. They entered and surround her. Haldora’s partner was fearful of what would be. Haldora showed no fear, because she had none. One of the guards asked Haldora to follow him, she obliged him, head raised and a serious look across her face. The guards led her through the streets, where people stopped to look at her. Strangely they did not look at her in fear as her partner had, the looked in pride. Haldora was confused but showed nothing. They came into the finest part of town, where her simple clothes were in gross contract to the beautiful flowy light dress. Her blue velvet dress, sown by her hands, was completely out of place, once she realized where she was. Haldora was brought to the largest church she had ever seen. She crossed herself immediately, so not to arouse suspicions. She began to summon her own energy. She would be prepared this time.
A man wearing a long red gown came from the altar towards her. Haldora looked him in the eyes. The man blessed her in the old language of the church in Wessex. Haldora lowered her head. The man observed her. She did not show any humility.
- Do you know who I am? – The man asked.
Haldora shook her head.
- Have you any idea as to why I called you here?
Again she shook her head.
- Are you really without speech, child?
Haldora nodded.
- Good! You will be perfect. I need your services. You will live here and sow my gowns. I am in need of many gowns. Now that I am pope, I need to look the part. – The man ordered.
Haldora could not argue with such a request. The guards took her away to her work room, where fabrics were pilling up. She showed no happy feelings. She was angry. Not with this men, but with herself. She was again too close to anyone who could suspect who she was. Already she thought on how she would escape this new situation. She looked around the room and thought it to be her new prison, where she would be a slave. Soon she discovered however that the door was not locked behind her and that no guard was posted on her door. She was free to roam this great palace. Haldora smiled at this discovery. She was sure that no one could know who or what she was. No one could know unless she betrayed it.
Haldora worked for this man, the Pope, who she did not understand, for many years. She would learn about the new God, more and more, but would also be more and more disappointed with it. This Pope was supposed to be the head of this religion, the one who represented the new God on earth, but his behavior was not one of values, it was not what he preached, many times had they traveled through this new country, Italy, in the company of clowns and other strange people. His processions looked like the parades Haldora had seen before, when it was time for the changing of the year, where people would dress other costumes so that the demons would not recognize them when they harm to earth for that one day. These actions brought many generations to death at the ends of the new God believers. Still today she would hear of these deaths occurring, yet they leader of the new God believers would lavish in his palace.
Haldora took the opportunity to learn the arts of this new country. This Pope was interested in painting and sculpting, and would invite many artists to be in his company. Many of them would work on the great palace and on the great church. She watched closely as each of them explained their plans and execute them. Her learning was astounding. She was capable of understanding and repeating most of what she had learned within hours of her learning. Because she was thought to be dumb no one ever was suspicious of her and all talked openly around her. Most thought her to be illiterate as well as so would leave books lying around. Whenever possible she would steal a book and read it. At first she only read books about God, but soon she read manifestos about how God was not needed in the new society of men of thought and reason. Haldora soaked all the information she could, never neglecting her one true gods and her friends from the other side.
The years ran long and Haldora was now ready to leave this palace. People would age and she would not, no longer could she hold the secret of who she was. She had formulated a plan, which involved her supposed death, so no one would look for her. One afternoon she left the comfort of the palace and went outside for a walk. She went back to her old shop, which had closed since she was no longer working there. She made sure many people saw her go inside and then, once inside she started a grant fire. She escaped through a small window in the back and watched safely as people attempted to rescue her. By the time the fire was put out nothing remained. It was hard to recognize the wood let alone a body within the rubble.
Haldora fled the city carrying what little she could as if being chased and soon found herself on the plain she had landed. She could see the tree that had housed her during the rains. That was not the only thing she could she. The night was close and by the faint light of the twilight she could see people. Not living people but spirits. They all walked this field, some towards the city and others to other locations. She could tell some were aware of their condition, they would speak to other spirits and behave naturally, others were not, they would walked without baring and would look around in scare. Some still had upon them the marks of their death, be it in their distorted faces or opened unhealed wounds. Haldora stood on that plain taking in this new world she could see and hear. She found that many of them could see her as well. In her mind she secretly asked herself what would be a safe place for her. A young spirit girl came close and pointed the way. Haldora could hear her directions in her head as clear as any sound. She thanked the spirit and began her trip. This spirit would never leave her side. She would continuously speak into Haldora’s head of the new discoveries of mortals and the way she should take to reach her safe haven.
At last… the island…
Monday, February 26, 2007
CHAPTER XII
CHAPTER XII
Dust in nostrils and aches in the bones...
Haldora awoke to confusion and disorientation. Around her were no longer the flames, nor the walls, nor the men, only bars. She was in a cage. From a far she could not quiet make out what sounds were heard but she was sure she had heard them before. Her scar was aching like never before and she was not able to concentrate herself to meditate. A familiar smell strokes the air and as Haldora lifted her head to see, she again got a glimpse of the rotting flesh of legs kicking a green dress open. She was sure where she was. Hella was again before her. She sat down on a chair in front of the cage, smiling mischievously as before.
- Did you think I had forgotten you? – Hella asked.
Haldora gave no answer.
- A God never forgets, Haldora... or should I say Isabeaux? You really did not think just because you were baptised you would get rid of me, did you now? Acts mean nothing unless you believe them. – Hella proped her head on her fist – Still it was a nice gesture, after what happened in the cave. Did you think it would soften his heart if you were baptised? Or perhaps that he would recognize you if you had the same name as the other woman? I have to say you are pathetic. You endured ten years of a monastery, mouthing words you didn’t believe, for what?? Did you think he’d come to visit?
Haldora sat with her back to the wall, leaning her head to her knees, breathing through the pain and trying to concentrate.
- Do not try the tricks you learned overhere. They do not work. Up above there are places where beings like you live and all those ... things work. You are in my kingdom and I rule over all those creatures. I rule you. -, she smilled
Haldora raised her head.
- Why did you take me now? Why wait? -, she asked in rage.
- There is the insolence I was lacking. I missed this kind of entertainment.
- Why did you not just let me die?
Hella leaned front, almost rubbing her nose on the bars.
- You are already dead, my dear. If anything I rescued you from a bodiless existence. The fire would have consumed your body and you would be left with nothing but spirit, essence. How would you find your warrior then?
Haldora became angrier, her breathes were heavier and shorter.
- Maybe this time you will not go after him. He did cause your death... Twice.
Haldora lept from her spot and threw herslef towards the bars in an arrempt to break them. Upon contact she felt her skin burn; she screamed and fell on the ground. Hella’s laughter echoed throughtout the room, as she threw herself back on her chair, her voice as terrible as she.
- Had you forgotten how that felt? It’s called pain if you remember correctly. Get used to it; it will be your companion. And when you enjoy its company I’ll make it hurt more. No one escapes me. Let’s see if you can remember that this time.
Hella rouse from her chair and softly walked towards the door, behind her laid Haldora still aching. She looked at her arms scourged from the burns. Before Hella disappeared in the darkness, Haldora tried once more to break the bars by using her clothes as shield. She threw herself again, but her skin still burned under her intact clothes. Hella kept walking as Haldora cried over her exposed flesh.
Wounds never heal in the Underworld, Haldora soon discovered. With her body as an open wound, she could not find a way to rest comfortably. It seemed the entire cage was made of fire. From time to time she would swear she could hear the voice of her warrior from a distance, calling for her. She would move her eyes and in the dark, she was sure she could see him stretching his arms towards her, she would desperately try to move to meet him, but no movement from her, as aching as it was, could bring her any closer to him. As she tried as hard as she could to leave her body, so the pain would stop, she could sometimes see parts of her warrior’s many lives. She could not understand where he was, but she could see him. After a while she believed all those visions to be untrue, Haldora believed Hella was tricking her to keep her in pain and despair. Her mind began to weaken.
Haldora let out a loud scream as she tried to move again. As her scream echoed through the halls, she could hear a roar from afar; she knew this sound only to well.
- Otr. -, she called out.
A roar was heard back. Haldora smiled, not knowing exactly why.
- We’re all prisoners of something.
Haldora tried with all her strength to forget her pain and centre her thoughts She managed to leave her aching body and walk among the spirits, she still ached, but this new form of existence was an improvement from her body. As a bodiless spirit she focussed on finding one who could heal her, but none of the spirits would take an interest. She patiently waited for the energy of another to touch her, but none came. She soon felt her energy falter and as a result her spirit slowly descended towards her body. Before she could enter her body again, she felt something hold her and pull her back to the previous plain of existence. She opened her eyes to find herself surrounded by gray scaled and long white claws.
- I will not let you go. -, Otr spoke.
- You can speak? -, she asked feeling her strength upon her again.
- Most dragons can speak the mortal tongues. Although you seem to know many more from the ones I’ve learned over the years,
- You are here with me?
- Yes. Men did not learn to do this by themselves. The ancient creatures taught them.
- Heal me. -, she requested in a half cry. –I know dragons can do that.
- We can. If I do Hella will hurt you more. She will probably hurt me to.
- What does she want with me?
- I am the spirit of a dragon her father killed long ago. She as never allowed me to forget who I was and how powerful I was. Now I’m her pet.
- I’m her entertainment.
- The Underworld was a place where one would come to be condemned for a crime they would never remember. One soon realizes Hella is doomed to the same fate. Haldora, Hella needs someone to rule over. When you died our time was already ending. You became our salvation. You remember us.
- What?
- The creatures of old are being forgotten. Those who believe in them are persecuted. You remain. -, Otr explained.
- Hella wasn’t rescuing me. She was rescuing herself.
- Forgetfulness is our biggest fear. She will keep you here forever. While you remember we live. Your resistance is so great you will last eternities. And what she fails to grasp I understand. As the new god has a second coming, so can we.
- Otr. Are you saying the new God has beaten the old Gods? How?
- It is not a question of battle or war. It’s a question of belief. The new God is easier to believe. One by one we are forgotten.
- I can’t believe that.
- I know you can’t. Your mind is as it was eras ago when you died. I’ll show you.
Otr flapped his long gray wings and mists appeared from the movement, it clouded all the other spirits and left them alone. Haldora sat on his paw and looked in between the claws to find they were flying. The journey was one that Haldora remembered very well. They were going to Valhalla. Haldora envisioned herself jumping from the same place Loki had thrown her to escape the Underworld.
The doors were still there, but they were not the same, the brightness was gone. Otr opened the doors to relieve a empty room, dark, dingy, with the odor of rotting food. Haldora could scarce believe this had once been a golden room, where warriors waited for Odin’s command. There was no one there, just shadows.
- Odin’s war is over. He doesn’t need his warrior’s any more. -, Haldora attempted to convince herself.
- People don’t come here anymore. They take another path. They call it Heaven. -, Otr explained.
- Why won’t they come here? This is where they belong.
- People just stopped believing. The truth is Hella hasn’t had many visitors since you left.
Otr let her down from his hand and wonder the grand hall.
- None of it is real. -, Otr explained. – It’s all on the mind. Focuss strong enough and you will see it as it was. The Underworld is hanging by a thread.
She quickly searched the Hall of lives to find it empty. The strings were on the floor, the waters were dry. The dust embraced all things, stealing brightness and color. Haldora fell to her knees. A shaped appeared before her. A mortal hand led her chin up. Haldora was in the presence of her warrior. Instead of feeling joy for his shape, she could feel nothing but anger.
- Your curse is your blessing. -, Otr’s voice spoke through this body. - You have the memory of times. Learn new things and let go of the past. Open your mind. Remember this lesson, remember what you saw today. Remember illusions. Remember belief. Remember forgetfulness. Remember me.
- Are you scared of being gone?
- Forgetfulness is worse then death, but I am the last of my kind and my reason for being is… gone. Hella was the only thing keeping me here.
- Hella. We are all her prisoners.
- We are all prisoners of something; it’s up to us to break the cage.
Otr took her face between his hands and let her to his lips. Haldora fought the act, pressing her lips. He embraced her and his illusion was so great, that for a second in time she forgot Otr was standing before her instead of this figure. She allowed him to kiss her and as she returned his embrace, the two were engulfed by a red smoke that seemed to enter Haldora through her mouth. She could feel a strange taste in her mouth, but before she could react to it she heard a loud scream. Her eyes opened and she was again in her cage.
Hella stormed in the room, grabbing the bars in the cage and ripping them like paper. Haldora rouse from the ground quickly. Hella knew immediately she was well again. Hella grabbed her by her arms and held her up from the ground as a child.
- What did you do to him? -, Hella asked in the most terrifying voice Haldora had ever heard.
- I did nothing.
- Otr is dead. What did you do? What trick did you use?
- Otr was already dead. -, Haldora slowly announced, - So am I. So are you.
- You will live the rest of eternity in pain. I will tore your flesh out and make you grow another. I will inflect wounds and cure them, to make them come again.
Hella threw Haldora in the air. Haldora landed on the other side on the room, surprisingly unarmed. She got up and looked Hella right in the eyes.
- I don’t believe you anymore.
- No! -, Hella realized what Otr had done before his death.
- I forget you.
- No! -, Hella knelt down.
- I forget you. -, Haldora raised her voice.
- No! -, Hella shouted.
- I forget you! -, Haldora shouted.
The whole of the room seemed to break as glass and as Haldora fell trough the ground, all she could remember was the solitary tear that ran through Hella’s face as all of her spirits deserted her and all of her illusions faded.
Rain for days on end… Touch returning…
Dust in nostrils and aches in the bones...
Haldora awoke to confusion and disorientation. Around her were no longer the flames, nor the walls, nor the men, only bars. She was in a cage. From a far she could not quiet make out what sounds were heard but she was sure she had heard them before. Her scar was aching like never before and she was not able to concentrate herself to meditate. A familiar smell strokes the air and as Haldora lifted her head to see, she again got a glimpse of the rotting flesh of legs kicking a green dress open. She was sure where she was. Hella was again before her. She sat down on a chair in front of the cage, smiling mischievously as before.
- Did you think I had forgotten you? – Hella asked.
Haldora gave no answer.
- A God never forgets, Haldora... or should I say Isabeaux? You really did not think just because you were baptised you would get rid of me, did you now? Acts mean nothing unless you believe them. – Hella proped her head on her fist – Still it was a nice gesture, after what happened in the cave. Did you think it would soften his heart if you were baptised? Or perhaps that he would recognize you if you had the same name as the other woman? I have to say you are pathetic. You endured ten years of a monastery, mouthing words you didn’t believe, for what?? Did you think he’d come to visit?
Haldora sat with her back to the wall, leaning her head to her knees, breathing through the pain and trying to concentrate.
- Do not try the tricks you learned overhere. They do not work. Up above there are places where beings like you live and all those ... things work. You are in my kingdom and I rule over all those creatures. I rule you. -, she smilled
Haldora raised her head.
- Why did you take me now? Why wait? -, she asked in rage.
- There is the insolence I was lacking. I missed this kind of entertainment.
- Why did you not just let me die?
Hella leaned front, almost rubbing her nose on the bars.
- You are already dead, my dear. If anything I rescued you from a bodiless existence. The fire would have consumed your body and you would be left with nothing but spirit, essence. How would you find your warrior then?
Haldora became angrier, her breathes were heavier and shorter.
- Maybe this time you will not go after him. He did cause your death... Twice.
Haldora lept from her spot and threw herslef towards the bars in an arrempt to break them. Upon contact she felt her skin burn; she screamed and fell on the ground. Hella’s laughter echoed throughtout the room, as she threw herself back on her chair, her voice as terrible as she.
- Had you forgotten how that felt? It’s called pain if you remember correctly. Get used to it; it will be your companion. And when you enjoy its company I’ll make it hurt more. No one escapes me. Let’s see if you can remember that this time.
Hella rouse from her chair and softly walked towards the door, behind her laid Haldora still aching. She looked at her arms scourged from the burns. Before Hella disappeared in the darkness, Haldora tried once more to break the bars by using her clothes as shield. She threw herself again, but her skin still burned under her intact clothes. Hella kept walking as Haldora cried over her exposed flesh.
Wounds never heal in the Underworld, Haldora soon discovered. With her body as an open wound, she could not find a way to rest comfortably. It seemed the entire cage was made of fire. From time to time she would swear she could hear the voice of her warrior from a distance, calling for her. She would move her eyes and in the dark, she was sure she could see him stretching his arms towards her, she would desperately try to move to meet him, but no movement from her, as aching as it was, could bring her any closer to him. As she tried as hard as she could to leave her body, so the pain would stop, she could sometimes see parts of her warrior’s many lives. She could not understand where he was, but she could see him. After a while she believed all those visions to be untrue, Haldora believed Hella was tricking her to keep her in pain and despair. Her mind began to weaken.
Haldora let out a loud scream as she tried to move again. As her scream echoed through the halls, she could hear a roar from afar; she knew this sound only to well.
- Otr. -, she called out.
A roar was heard back. Haldora smiled, not knowing exactly why.
- We’re all prisoners of something.
Haldora tried with all her strength to forget her pain and centre her thoughts She managed to leave her aching body and walk among the spirits, she still ached, but this new form of existence was an improvement from her body. As a bodiless spirit she focussed on finding one who could heal her, but none of the spirits would take an interest. She patiently waited for the energy of another to touch her, but none came. She soon felt her energy falter and as a result her spirit slowly descended towards her body. Before she could enter her body again, she felt something hold her and pull her back to the previous plain of existence. She opened her eyes to find herself surrounded by gray scaled and long white claws.
- I will not let you go. -, Otr spoke.
- You can speak? -, she asked feeling her strength upon her again.
- Most dragons can speak the mortal tongues. Although you seem to know many more from the ones I’ve learned over the years,
- You are here with me?
- Yes. Men did not learn to do this by themselves. The ancient creatures taught them.
- Heal me. -, she requested in a half cry. –I know dragons can do that.
- We can. If I do Hella will hurt you more. She will probably hurt me to.
- What does she want with me?
- I am the spirit of a dragon her father killed long ago. She as never allowed me to forget who I was and how powerful I was. Now I’m her pet.
- I’m her entertainment.
- The Underworld was a place where one would come to be condemned for a crime they would never remember. One soon realizes Hella is doomed to the same fate. Haldora, Hella needs someone to rule over. When you died our time was already ending. You became our salvation. You remember us.
- What?
- The creatures of old are being forgotten. Those who believe in them are persecuted. You remain. -, Otr explained.
- Hella wasn’t rescuing me. She was rescuing herself.
- Forgetfulness is our biggest fear. She will keep you here forever. While you remember we live. Your resistance is so great you will last eternities. And what she fails to grasp I understand. As the new god has a second coming, so can we.
- Otr. Are you saying the new God has beaten the old Gods? How?
- It is not a question of battle or war. It’s a question of belief. The new God is easier to believe. One by one we are forgotten.
- I can’t believe that.
- I know you can’t. Your mind is as it was eras ago when you died. I’ll show you.
Otr flapped his long gray wings and mists appeared from the movement, it clouded all the other spirits and left them alone. Haldora sat on his paw and looked in between the claws to find they were flying. The journey was one that Haldora remembered very well. They were going to Valhalla. Haldora envisioned herself jumping from the same place Loki had thrown her to escape the Underworld.
The doors were still there, but they were not the same, the brightness was gone. Otr opened the doors to relieve a empty room, dark, dingy, with the odor of rotting food. Haldora could scarce believe this had once been a golden room, where warriors waited for Odin’s command. There was no one there, just shadows.
- Odin’s war is over. He doesn’t need his warrior’s any more. -, Haldora attempted to convince herself.
- People don’t come here anymore. They take another path. They call it Heaven. -, Otr explained.
- Why won’t they come here? This is where they belong.
- People just stopped believing. The truth is Hella hasn’t had many visitors since you left.
Otr let her down from his hand and wonder the grand hall.
- None of it is real. -, Otr explained. – It’s all on the mind. Focuss strong enough and you will see it as it was. The Underworld is hanging by a thread.
She quickly searched the Hall of lives to find it empty. The strings were on the floor, the waters were dry. The dust embraced all things, stealing brightness and color. Haldora fell to her knees. A shaped appeared before her. A mortal hand led her chin up. Haldora was in the presence of her warrior. Instead of feeling joy for his shape, she could feel nothing but anger.
- Your curse is your blessing. -, Otr’s voice spoke through this body. - You have the memory of times. Learn new things and let go of the past. Open your mind. Remember this lesson, remember what you saw today. Remember illusions. Remember belief. Remember forgetfulness. Remember me.
- Are you scared of being gone?
- Forgetfulness is worse then death, but I am the last of my kind and my reason for being is… gone. Hella was the only thing keeping me here.
- Hella. We are all her prisoners.
- We are all prisoners of something; it’s up to us to break the cage.
Otr took her face between his hands and let her to his lips. Haldora fought the act, pressing her lips. He embraced her and his illusion was so great, that for a second in time she forgot Otr was standing before her instead of this figure. She allowed him to kiss her and as she returned his embrace, the two were engulfed by a red smoke that seemed to enter Haldora through her mouth. She could feel a strange taste in her mouth, but before she could react to it she heard a loud scream. Her eyes opened and she was again in her cage.
Hella stormed in the room, grabbing the bars in the cage and ripping them like paper. Haldora rouse from the ground quickly. Hella knew immediately she was well again. Hella grabbed her by her arms and held her up from the ground as a child.
- What did you do to him? -, Hella asked in the most terrifying voice Haldora had ever heard.
- I did nothing.
- Otr is dead. What did you do? What trick did you use?
- Otr was already dead. -, Haldora slowly announced, - So am I. So are you.
- You will live the rest of eternity in pain. I will tore your flesh out and make you grow another. I will inflect wounds and cure them, to make them come again.
Hella threw Haldora in the air. Haldora landed on the other side on the room, surprisingly unarmed. She got up and looked Hella right in the eyes.
- I don’t believe you anymore.
- No! -, Hella realized what Otr had done before his death.
- I forget you.
- No! -, Hella knelt down.
- I forget you. -, Haldora raised her voice.
- No! -, Hella shouted.
- I forget you! -, Haldora shouted.
The whole of the room seemed to break as glass and as Haldora fell trough the ground, all she could remember was the solitary tear that ran through Hella’s face as all of her spirits deserted her and all of her illusions faded.
Rain for days on end… Touch returning…
CHAPTER XI
CHAPTER XI
Haldora crossed the mountains that separated two countries hopping these mountains would keep the Christians with their torches away. She walked day and night, for weeks, before she could have a glimpse of this new land. The name of it she did not know, but she was unhappy to fins this new land did not possess such dense woods where she could hide. Now real fear shadowed her way. She felt naked when she walked, unable to hide when someone came close. The roads were busy and Haldora stayed away from them, she much preferred to walk through the endless fields of olive trees. The trees were so small, she could almost touch the top of them and that was her only source of entertainment.
Haldora came to an abandoned house, at the centre of a plain. Waiting near it for a few days, she was certain no one lived there or near there. She made it her own. For weeks she would live in this house, meditating and fearing to be caught. She could feel no one around her but the voices. Months were now passed in half-felt bliss.
One night of clear moonlight, Haldora came to plain and raised her arms to the moon and for a long time prayed as she had prayed on that stone circle years before, she felt her connection as strong as before and her memoirs were turned into tears as she reviewed her life at that place. She was sure those had been the best moments of her time. As she stood on this form of contemplation, she was sighted from a far by passing men on horses. They drew near to get a better look and witness her speak in her native tongue to the skies. They were frightened by the harshness of her sounds and crossed themselves as they heard. Haldora lowered her hands and let her head fall to the front, as she allowed all of the energy to flow out of her body. In this instant of rest the men found an opportunity to seize her. Haldora did not even understood what had happened, she saw herself on a horse, with rope around her wrists and cloth on her face.
She was shoved into a small and damp cell, which reminded her of her convent days, except this place had the smell of death and burnt flesh all around. She could hear twice as much voices in her head, they spoke a different language and Haldora was unable to fully understand them, she could understand they spoke in fear and anger. Haldora took some time to understand what was going on, but from the screams of the voices and the stench in the air, she understood she had fallen into the hands of the people she had spent so many years running from. She knelt down and began to pray in the Latin tongue, she knew she was being watched on the other side of the door. She paid no attention to the rats and insects that passed by her while she prayed.
Two men, a friar and a man of higher class were together by her door, listening to her pray. They spoke her native language, they seemed to discuss something. Finally the friar opened the door and they both entered. Haldora did not stop her praying. The friar spoke in Latin first, though she could understand she pretended not to. The other men then spoke in the French tongue and more then recognize the language she could recognize the voice. Haldora looked to find she was in the presence of her warrior, he was much older then before, but was there with her nonetheless. She answered his question for her name.
- Isabeaux.
- Isabeaux. Were you out last night with your arms raised to the moon? – He translated for the friar.
- I was praying for God to take me away from my misery. – She answered, raising her arms up.
- Witnesses said they heard you speaking in tongues. – He translated.
- I was speaking in the language of my native land.
He looked to the friar and then came closer to her.
- If you want to save yourself, it is best you tell me your story. Where do you come from?
She sat on the ground, near his foot.
- I came from a village in the land of the Anglos, across the sea. I came here after I left the convent.
- A convent?
- Yes. I was raised in one. I left and then I came here. I have no money, no family and no home, sir, I was praying to God to take me away. – She told.
- Where’s your family?
- They are death, sir. What’s going to happen to me, sir?
He drew away from her and took the friar out of the cell, closing the door behind them. Haldora was left inside, alone. She resumed her praying and was not silent until the break of day.
The friar and the higher class man had a meeting with another men, he wore a red gown and seemed to be a high authority in that community. They both reported what they had heard from Haldora’s mouth and were confronted by the facts related by the witnesses.
- If she says she was in a convent, there will be records of it, no doubt. – Concluded the man in red. – There is only one place to pray to God and only one language. I don’t know if we can believe what she says. The devil has many faces and uses many deceptions.
- I will send a letters to search for an Isabeaux. - The friar stated as he left the room.
- Thank you my good man, for your interpretation of her language. You will be rewarded for the service to the Church.
- Thank you. I was wondering if you will need me to continue to talk to her. Tell her the charges.
- You are a good man. She will know her charges when the time is right, rest assured.
Many months were passed with Haldora praying duly. She would eat the rotting food she was given and would ask grace before forcing it down her throat. She would say mass when she heard the bells of the neighboring church. At night she would pretended to sleep. She would talk to the rats around her to pass the time and would sometimes meditate. From time to time the friar would come to hear her confession, she would beg for God’s forgiveness, she call herself a sinner and would pound her fists on her chest blaming herself for all her faults. She would often say she repented, though she never said of what. She was eventually put to work for the sisters of a convent near by. She would clean the rectory and would attend mass and praying hours. She would have to work her sins away; till it was confirmed she was indeed baptized and had repented.
Haldora would see her warrior, when mass was over trying desperately to scribble on pieces of paper, while looking at the statue of the Holly Mother. One day she approached him and sat close to him. He threw her an untrusting eye.
- Do you write stories about our Holly Mother? – She asked shyly.
- No. She gives me inspiration.
- What do you write about? – She asked and every word she said seemed to calm him down.
- Just stories.
- Can I read one?
- You wouldn’t understand them, there are in another language. – He got up to leave.
- Thank you. – She said. –For talking for me.
He crossed himself and left.
Haldora got back to work.
The next day, as Haldora was cleaning the seats of the Church, she found a stack of papers written in Latin. She took them to her bosom and hid them in her dress. After her work was done she sat by her window and read the papers in the dark, as if she had a candle by her.
«These are the stories of a poor Italian man who came to the realm of the Spaniards to find a better life. », said the first sheet.
The story was one of love and Haldora could not put it down the whole night. It told of two lovers who were divided by a wall and were unable to see each other, but still loved each other. Haldora hoped as she had never allowed herself to hope that she would now be able to be with her long lost and awaited warrior. At the end of the pages was not the long waited ending but another note. « The confessionary. » Haldora smiled as she had not done in a while.
In the morning after first mass she entered the confessionary and there remained quiet till she heard someone enter on the other side. The small door was open and she could see through the cracks that it was him. He was impatient and a tad frightened.
- It was a beautiful story.
- It’s just a roman story, told a thousand times. I don’t know why I showed it to you. Maybe…because you’re also a foreigner in this country. Maybe I thought you’d understand. – He explained.
- You write beautifully.
- I wanted to write something original.
There was a silence. She could feel his warm breath on her hand and he tried to make her out from the cracks.
- Meet me outside. – She requested, running away afterwards.
He walked off the church and circled it looking for Haldora. He found her at one of the back passages. She pulled him inside. He could feel her coldness, which sickened him.
- I want to tell you a story. It’s close to the one you wrote. There was this girl, she loved a man, but their love was forbidden. She was going to be a sister. He would write poems and leave them buried in the dirty outside the Church. She would put it in her Bible. She would pray to forgive him, but she couldn’t.
- What happened to her?
- I don’t know. You finish it. Just remember their love. Her love.
She took his hand and placed on her bosom.
- Many loves live here.
His expression turned suddenly. He grabbed her dress and ripped it open, showing her scar that had shriveled even more with the passing of time. He grab her by the arm immediately and nearly dragged her to the jail where she had been. Once there she was exposed to the authorities as the possessor of a mark. The definitive sign of the devil.
No prays nor words could dissuade the priests. They dragged her to a chamber where the smell of death was greater and the pieces of rotting flesh were still on the ground. She was teased with hot coals and though she knew none of those objects would hurt her she became increasingly angrier. Men from every side told her what each instrument would do, but what pained her more was to see her warrior, who only moments before was so fond of her shout to see her hurt.
Without anyone knowing the fire on the candles and one the ground began to grow and the room became more lit. When this was noticed the room was in flames and the door was unreachable. Men ran from side to side, coughing from the smoke and attempting to leave, dodging the falling pieces of the wooden roof. Haldora stood in the centre of the room, watching as her aggressors as they burnt. A scream was heard louder than the others over the crackling sound of burning wood and the sound of the caving building. She turned and her warrior was now a living torch.
Concentration… Blowing cool wind… Moldy smell…
Haldora crossed the mountains that separated two countries hopping these mountains would keep the Christians with their torches away. She walked day and night, for weeks, before she could have a glimpse of this new land. The name of it she did not know, but she was unhappy to fins this new land did not possess such dense woods where she could hide. Now real fear shadowed her way. She felt naked when she walked, unable to hide when someone came close. The roads were busy and Haldora stayed away from them, she much preferred to walk through the endless fields of olive trees. The trees were so small, she could almost touch the top of them and that was her only source of entertainment.
Haldora came to an abandoned house, at the centre of a plain. Waiting near it for a few days, she was certain no one lived there or near there. She made it her own. For weeks she would live in this house, meditating and fearing to be caught. She could feel no one around her but the voices. Months were now passed in half-felt bliss.
One night of clear moonlight, Haldora came to plain and raised her arms to the moon and for a long time prayed as she had prayed on that stone circle years before, she felt her connection as strong as before and her memoirs were turned into tears as she reviewed her life at that place. She was sure those had been the best moments of her time. As she stood on this form of contemplation, she was sighted from a far by passing men on horses. They drew near to get a better look and witness her speak in her native tongue to the skies. They were frightened by the harshness of her sounds and crossed themselves as they heard. Haldora lowered her hands and let her head fall to the front, as she allowed all of the energy to flow out of her body. In this instant of rest the men found an opportunity to seize her. Haldora did not even understood what had happened, she saw herself on a horse, with rope around her wrists and cloth on her face.
She was shoved into a small and damp cell, which reminded her of her convent days, except this place had the smell of death and burnt flesh all around. She could hear twice as much voices in her head, they spoke a different language and Haldora was unable to fully understand them, she could understand they spoke in fear and anger. Haldora took some time to understand what was going on, but from the screams of the voices and the stench in the air, she understood she had fallen into the hands of the people she had spent so many years running from. She knelt down and began to pray in the Latin tongue, she knew she was being watched on the other side of the door. She paid no attention to the rats and insects that passed by her while she prayed.
Two men, a friar and a man of higher class were together by her door, listening to her pray. They spoke her native language, they seemed to discuss something. Finally the friar opened the door and they both entered. Haldora did not stop her praying. The friar spoke in Latin first, though she could understand she pretended not to. The other men then spoke in the French tongue and more then recognize the language she could recognize the voice. Haldora looked to find she was in the presence of her warrior, he was much older then before, but was there with her nonetheless. She answered his question for her name.
- Isabeaux.
- Isabeaux. Were you out last night with your arms raised to the moon? – He translated for the friar.
- I was praying for God to take me away from my misery. – She answered, raising her arms up.
- Witnesses said they heard you speaking in tongues. – He translated.
- I was speaking in the language of my native land.
He looked to the friar and then came closer to her.
- If you want to save yourself, it is best you tell me your story. Where do you come from?
She sat on the ground, near his foot.
- I came from a village in the land of the Anglos, across the sea. I came here after I left the convent.
- A convent?
- Yes. I was raised in one. I left and then I came here. I have no money, no family and no home, sir, I was praying to God to take me away. – She told.
- Where’s your family?
- They are death, sir. What’s going to happen to me, sir?
He drew away from her and took the friar out of the cell, closing the door behind them. Haldora was left inside, alone. She resumed her praying and was not silent until the break of day.
The friar and the higher class man had a meeting with another men, he wore a red gown and seemed to be a high authority in that community. They both reported what they had heard from Haldora’s mouth and were confronted by the facts related by the witnesses.
- If she says she was in a convent, there will be records of it, no doubt. – Concluded the man in red. – There is only one place to pray to God and only one language. I don’t know if we can believe what she says. The devil has many faces and uses many deceptions.
- I will send a letters to search for an Isabeaux. - The friar stated as he left the room.
- Thank you my good man, for your interpretation of her language. You will be rewarded for the service to the Church.
- Thank you. I was wondering if you will need me to continue to talk to her. Tell her the charges.
- You are a good man. She will know her charges when the time is right, rest assured.
Many months were passed with Haldora praying duly. She would eat the rotting food she was given and would ask grace before forcing it down her throat. She would say mass when she heard the bells of the neighboring church. At night she would pretended to sleep. She would talk to the rats around her to pass the time and would sometimes meditate. From time to time the friar would come to hear her confession, she would beg for God’s forgiveness, she call herself a sinner and would pound her fists on her chest blaming herself for all her faults. She would often say she repented, though she never said of what. She was eventually put to work for the sisters of a convent near by. She would clean the rectory and would attend mass and praying hours. She would have to work her sins away; till it was confirmed she was indeed baptized and had repented.
Haldora would see her warrior, when mass was over trying desperately to scribble on pieces of paper, while looking at the statue of the Holly Mother. One day she approached him and sat close to him. He threw her an untrusting eye.
- Do you write stories about our Holly Mother? – She asked shyly.
- No. She gives me inspiration.
- What do you write about? – She asked and every word she said seemed to calm him down.
- Just stories.
- Can I read one?
- You wouldn’t understand them, there are in another language. – He got up to leave.
- Thank you. – She said. –For talking for me.
He crossed himself and left.
Haldora got back to work.
The next day, as Haldora was cleaning the seats of the Church, she found a stack of papers written in Latin. She took them to her bosom and hid them in her dress. After her work was done she sat by her window and read the papers in the dark, as if she had a candle by her.
«These are the stories of a poor Italian man who came to the realm of the Spaniards to find a better life. », said the first sheet.
The story was one of love and Haldora could not put it down the whole night. It told of two lovers who were divided by a wall and were unable to see each other, but still loved each other. Haldora hoped as she had never allowed herself to hope that she would now be able to be with her long lost and awaited warrior. At the end of the pages was not the long waited ending but another note. « The confessionary. » Haldora smiled as she had not done in a while.
In the morning after first mass she entered the confessionary and there remained quiet till she heard someone enter on the other side. The small door was open and she could see through the cracks that it was him. He was impatient and a tad frightened.
- It was a beautiful story.
- It’s just a roman story, told a thousand times. I don’t know why I showed it to you. Maybe…because you’re also a foreigner in this country. Maybe I thought you’d understand. – He explained.
- You write beautifully.
- I wanted to write something original.
There was a silence. She could feel his warm breath on her hand and he tried to make her out from the cracks.
- Meet me outside. – She requested, running away afterwards.
He walked off the church and circled it looking for Haldora. He found her at one of the back passages. She pulled him inside. He could feel her coldness, which sickened him.
- I want to tell you a story. It’s close to the one you wrote. There was this girl, she loved a man, but their love was forbidden. She was going to be a sister. He would write poems and leave them buried in the dirty outside the Church. She would put it in her Bible. She would pray to forgive him, but she couldn’t.
- What happened to her?
- I don’t know. You finish it. Just remember their love. Her love.
She took his hand and placed on her bosom.
- Many loves live here.
His expression turned suddenly. He grabbed her dress and ripped it open, showing her scar that had shriveled even more with the passing of time. He grab her by the arm immediately and nearly dragged her to the jail where she had been. Once there she was exposed to the authorities as the possessor of a mark. The definitive sign of the devil.
No prays nor words could dissuade the priests. They dragged her to a chamber where the smell of death was greater and the pieces of rotting flesh were still on the ground. She was teased with hot coals and though she knew none of those objects would hurt her she became increasingly angrier. Men from every side told her what each instrument would do, but what pained her more was to see her warrior, who only moments before was so fond of her shout to see her hurt.
Without anyone knowing the fire on the candles and one the ground began to grow and the room became more lit. When this was noticed the room was in flames and the door was unreachable. Men ran from side to side, coughing from the smoke and attempting to leave, dodging the falling pieces of the wooden roof. Haldora stood in the centre of the room, watching as her aggressors as they burnt. A scream was heard louder than the others over the crackling sound of burning wood and the sound of the caving building. She turned and her warrior was now a living torch.
Concentration… Blowing cool wind… Moldy smell…
CHAPTER X
CHAPTER X
The damp walls smothered Haldora. She would mechanically follow the daily routine. She was forbidden to go to the gardens so her heathen ways would not resurface. Her days were spent copying the new books and sowing,. She was able once to smuggle a velvet cloth and in the secret of the darkness, she sewed a dress like the one she had worn the day she had died. This reminded her of who she was since she felt it easy to forget everything after hearing the countless masses. She struggled to keep track on her festivals and of the phases of the moon, time was lost inside those walls and she was lost in routine.
Her words and gestures were false, and when she prayed in silence she prayed to her own god. The new God had nothing for her. He had died as a man, killed by man, but he was no man. Nothing made sense. Haldora was not at all convinced this new God was anything good, but all the people seemed to embark in his words, so she also pretended to be.
When she could speak the words of the Lord intelligently she was brought to a priest to be baptized. Her head was anointed and washed with water. In the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Ghost she was now known to God and people as Isabeaux. This name was only the name of her outer shell; inside she remained the Haldora faithful to her Gods.
After a few decades, she was let out to the world as a wife of Christ. She walked out of the gates to see the world again. And she was a wife of Christ no more. No more darkness, no more dampness with four walls. She was again in her element. Upon leaving the convent, she headed straight for the harbor and took the first boat she could away from the land she had grown to love. Her new life would begin in the kingdom of France away from the eyes of the Anglos. Now a sea would be between them.
Upon her arrival she set about making a name for herself as a seamstress and in her space time she would look for her herbs. This land had new kinds of herbs and trees and Haldora was happy she could still train herself to recognize new things. Her life was quiet again. Every decade or so she would move to another remote town, which became increasingly difficult as towns grew bigger and people moved more around the country. In every step she took, she had a bit of fear of being discovered. She would hear stories of the women thought to be witches and who were killed and how they were killed. The description of their actions, Haldora understood them to be her sisters. They seem to share the same ideals and do the same work. Haldora grew angrier at this new God, Christ, whose only intent was to punish people for things they had not even done yet. He would allow people to be killed in His name and seemed to do nothing but promise them a great after life. She had heard in the convent that this new God had expelled the Devil from Heaven and it was this creature that ruined men. He was the corrupter. But men had also been expelled from Heaven. She could not help to thing, when she sat down to spend the night some where on the many fields were she slept, that this new God, wherever He was to be blamed for all the madness of this world. Devil or no she would take no chance, she would go to church and pray, but she would stay away from most people, preferring to say in the woods in caves or wholes in trees, rather then being seen in town.
The name Isabeaux was soon in the mouths of many of the town’s people, though she was a great seamstress people were doubtful of her because of her allusive ways. Talks were heard and looks were cast when she would attend church. Haldora felt the pressure, but the proof came the day the priest hesitated when giving her communion.
She made up her mind… Isabeaux would be no more…
The damp walls smothered Haldora. She would mechanically follow the daily routine. She was forbidden to go to the gardens so her heathen ways would not resurface. Her days were spent copying the new books and sowing,. She was able once to smuggle a velvet cloth and in the secret of the darkness, she sewed a dress like the one she had worn the day she had died. This reminded her of who she was since she felt it easy to forget everything after hearing the countless masses. She struggled to keep track on her festivals and of the phases of the moon, time was lost inside those walls and she was lost in routine.
Her words and gestures were false, and when she prayed in silence she prayed to her own god. The new God had nothing for her. He had died as a man, killed by man, but he was no man. Nothing made sense. Haldora was not at all convinced this new God was anything good, but all the people seemed to embark in his words, so she also pretended to be.
When she could speak the words of the Lord intelligently she was brought to a priest to be baptized. Her head was anointed and washed with water. In the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Ghost she was now known to God and people as Isabeaux. This name was only the name of her outer shell; inside she remained the Haldora faithful to her Gods.
After a few decades, she was let out to the world as a wife of Christ. She walked out of the gates to see the world again. And she was a wife of Christ no more. No more darkness, no more dampness with four walls. She was again in her element. Upon leaving the convent, she headed straight for the harbor and took the first boat she could away from the land she had grown to love. Her new life would begin in the kingdom of France away from the eyes of the Anglos. Now a sea would be between them.
Upon her arrival she set about making a name for herself as a seamstress and in her space time she would look for her herbs. This land had new kinds of herbs and trees and Haldora was happy she could still train herself to recognize new things. Her life was quiet again. Every decade or so she would move to another remote town, which became increasingly difficult as towns grew bigger and people moved more around the country. In every step she took, she had a bit of fear of being discovered. She would hear stories of the women thought to be witches and who were killed and how they were killed. The description of their actions, Haldora understood them to be her sisters. They seem to share the same ideals and do the same work. Haldora grew angrier at this new God, Christ, whose only intent was to punish people for things they had not even done yet. He would allow people to be killed in His name and seemed to do nothing but promise them a great after life. She had heard in the convent that this new God had expelled the Devil from Heaven and it was this creature that ruined men. He was the corrupter. But men had also been expelled from Heaven. She could not help to thing, when she sat down to spend the night some where on the many fields were she slept, that this new God, wherever He was to be blamed for all the madness of this world. Devil or no she would take no chance, she would go to church and pray, but she would stay away from most people, preferring to say in the woods in caves or wholes in trees, rather then being seen in town.
The name Isabeaux was soon in the mouths of many of the town’s people, though she was a great seamstress people were doubtful of her because of her allusive ways. Talks were heard and looks were cast when she would attend church. Haldora felt the pressure, but the proof came the day the priest hesitated when giving her communion.
She made up her mind… Isabeaux would be no more…
CHAPTER IX
CHAPTER IX
Haldora’s journey was now many months old and had taken her through many towns. She sold some of her remedies and made many dresses to support herself, but she could not stay in one place for too long. She was sure someone would find out what she was. The symbol around her neck was no longer her safety. She could hear people talking about the cross bearers who were killed because they lied. Haldora was sure she would be next. At one of the towns she entered the house of the new god. She mimicked the gestures of the people and tried to understand why those four stone walls were the house of this new god, why didn’t he live outside as hers did. She heard the readings of the priests in this new language and after a while she began to understand this new language. The teachings of this new god were strange to her. He spoke in riddles and she was unable to grasp the complete sense of what he wanted to say. She soon was gone from that place but the new teachings remained fresh in her head. If she would encounter people she wanted to make sure she could speak as they did and pass for one of them.
In between towns, Haldora stopped by a river and as it was an exceptionally sunny day, she found a remote, hidden, place, removed her clothes and jumped in for a swim. As she dove into the black cold waters, the sound of the splash caught the attention of some soldiers stationed near. They came close, slowly to arouse no suspicion. Behind some bushes they observed as Haldora swam. Her pale white body contrasted with the darkness of the waters and her long hair wrapped around her body like a weed as she turned in the water. She swam like a mermaid, remaining below water for the longest of times. The soldiers remained observing long after she had noticed them there. She swam to shore, where covered by her long hair, she concentrated her energy to make the land slide. Down the hill came the two soldiers, landing in the water. She quickly dressed and ran away, as the two soldiers tried to come out of the water. They left the water and began to chase her. Haldora thought she would be safe as soon as she entered the woods, but as she was close a horse crossed her path, throwing her down. On the ground she laid as dead, the horse immediately touched her with his nose, as if wandering if she was dead.
- I am alive, little one. – She spoke to the horse as she lifted herself.
As soon as she did the two soldiers grabbed her. She looked at the men on the horse and the crown on his head denoted him as a king. She lowered her head. He was curious about her.
- Bring her with. – He ordered.
Haldora was pushed to run behind the king’s horse. The horse kept on trying to look back at her and she smiled at him. The king noticed this behavior which formed his opinion of this woman.
Haldora was brought to a grand hall in a castle. She kneeled as soon as the soldier let her go. The king was unimpressed. His knights began to appear from the different doors around the hall, they all stared at Haldora with curiosity, looking at the king waiting for his explanation.
- Did you know that it is a crime to god to expose yourself? – The king asked.
- Yes, sire, I do. I beg yours and god’s forgiveness. – Haldora responded.
- You should be flogged for your sin. – One of the knights suggested.
- I watched you in the river. – The king explained. – I saw you dive and not come up. How did you do that? – Sounds of gasp and amazement were heard.
- I hold my breath, sire. – She explained in fear.
- I know of no Christian man who can do that, why should you do it?
- I do not know sire.
- Maybe if I bring a tin of water you can show me how you do that.
- My Lord Jesus Christ did not prove himself to the one’s who doubted him. – She crossed herself as she said these words.
The king came close to her and made her get up. He grabbed her face and looked her right in the eyes.
- You heathen bitch. You are not worthy to say the name of the lord.
- Thou shall not take the Lord’s name in vain. – She automatically responded.
The king slapped her. Haldora threw herself on the floor to seem weak.
- You may wear the symbol of Christ around your neck, but I can see God is not in your heart. You had the audacity to compare yourself to Him. How dare you? I should kill you where you stand.
Haldora got up and stared the king in the face.
- Before you do, allow me to say this. If you want to win the next tournament, I suggest you rest your horse and ride another till then. Your horse complained of a sore leg, he has not healed since you fell from that great ravine. He will heal in time if you stop ridding him. You will have victory if you do.
The king paused for thought as the knights commented this new information between them.
- How did you know?
- Sire as declared me a heathen, then I must be so. I do only my heathen duty. – Haldora explained.
- Insolence. How entertaining. If you lie you will be killed.
- And if I tell the truth?
The king sat on his throne and thought, many of the knights shouted she should die and others that she should be close to the king.
- Let her be converted. – One voice sounded from the back.
The knights turned and so did Haldora. Sitting on a chair, her warrior looked at her, healed and well. He rose from his chair and walked over to her. She looked him in the eyes half praying to be recognized, half praying to be a stranger. His eyes denoted some familiarity and as he drew near she could swear he knew who she was. He ripped the cross from her neck.
- If she wants to wear this symbol so much, why not make it real? - He explained.
The king smiled at the idea. Her warrior looked at her one more time and she could smell his skin again.
- We shall baptize you and you shall live in a convent till you are a child of Christ.
Haldora bowed in gratefulness.
- Your name shall be… -, suggested the king.
- Isabeaux. – She immediately answered.
The warrior looked at her surprised.
- Isabeaux? That is a beautiful name. You shall be baptized as Isabeaux.
She was taken away by soldiers and her basket was taken as well, as it passed by the warrior he sniffed a familiar smell and turned his head. Memories were raised.
As Haldora foresaw the king’s horse healed and the tournament was won.
She was taken to the convent that very day. As soon as the heavy door closed behind her, she was taken away and stripped of her heathen clothes, and then she was dressed in her new Christian clothes and taken immediately to her cell. The heavy key turned the lock and she cried knowing she had lost her chance with her warrior. Her new companions were a bed, a candle and the bible, other then that only her friend the darkness.
Darkness… Crying… Echoing silence…
Haldora’s journey was now many months old and had taken her through many towns. She sold some of her remedies and made many dresses to support herself, but she could not stay in one place for too long. She was sure someone would find out what she was. The symbol around her neck was no longer her safety. She could hear people talking about the cross bearers who were killed because they lied. Haldora was sure she would be next. At one of the towns she entered the house of the new god. She mimicked the gestures of the people and tried to understand why those four stone walls were the house of this new god, why didn’t he live outside as hers did. She heard the readings of the priests in this new language and after a while she began to understand this new language. The teachings of this new god were strange to her. He spoke in riddles and she was unable to grasp the complete sense of what he wanted to say. She soon was gone from that place but the new teachings remained fresh in her head. If she would encounter people she wanted to make sure she could speak as they did and pass for one of them.
In between towns, Haldora stopped by a river and as it was an exceptionally sunny day, she found a remote, hidden, place, removed her clothes and jumped in for a swim. As she dove into the black cold waters, the sound of the splash caught the attention of some soldiers stationed near. They came close, slowly to arouse no suspicion. Behind some bushes they observed as Haldora swam. Her pale white body contrasted with the darkness of the waters and her long hair wrapped around her body like a weed as she turned in the water. She swam like a mermaid, remaining below water for the longest of times. The soldiers remained observing long after she had noticed them there. She swam to shore, where covered by her long hair, she concentrated her energy to make the land slide. Down the hill came the two soldiers, landing in the water. She quickly dressed and ran away, as the two soldiers tried to come out of the water. They left the water and began to chase her. Haldora thought she would be safe as soon as she entered the woods, but as she was close a horse crossed her path, throwing her down. On the ground she laid as dead, the horse immediately touched her with his nose, as if wandering if she was dead.
- I am alive, little one. – She spoke to the horse as she lifted herself.
As soon as she did the two soldiers grabbed her. She looked at the men on the horse and the crown on his head denoted him as a king. She lowered her head. He was curious about her.
- Bring her with. – He ordered.
Haldora was pushed to run behind the king’s horse. The horse kept on trying to look back at her and she smiled at him. The king noticed this behavior which formed his opinion of this woman.
Haldora was brought to a grand hall in a castle. She kneeled as soon as the soldier let her go. The king was unimpressed. His knights began to appear from the different doors around the hall, they all stared at Haldora with curiosity, looking at the king waiting for his explanation.
- Did you know that it is a crime to god to expose yourself? – The king asked.
- Yes, sire, I do. I beg yours and god’s forgiveness. – Haldora responded.
- You should be flogged for your sin. – One of the knights suggested.
- I watched you in the river. – The king explained. – I saw you dive and not come up. How did you do that? – Sounds of gasp and amazement were heard.
- I hold my breath, sire. – She explained in fear.
- I know of no Christian man who can do that, why should you do it?
- I do not know sire.
- Maybe if I bring a tin of water you can show me how you do that.
- My Lord Jesus Christ did not prove himself to the one’s who doubted him. – She crossed herself as she said these words.
The king came close to her and made her get up. He grabbed her face and looked her right in the eyes.
- You heathen bitch. You are not worthy to say the name of the lord.
- Thou shall not take the Lord’s name in vain. – She automatically responded.
The king slapped her. Haldora threw herself on the floor to seem weak.
- You may wear the symbol of Christ around your neck, but I can see God is not in your heart. You had the audacity to compare yourself to Him. How dare you? I should kill you where you stand.
Haldora got up and stared the king in the face.
- Before you do, allow me to say this. If you want to win the next tournament, I suggest you rest your horse and ride another till then. Your horse complained of a sore leg, he has not healed since you fell from that great ravine. He will heal in time if you stop ridding him. You will have victory if you do.
The king paused for thought as the knights commented this new information between them.
- How did you know?
- Sire as declared me a heathen, then I must be so. I do only my heathen duty. – Haldora explained.
- Insolence. How entertaining. If you lie you will be killed.
- And if I tell the truth?
The king sat on his throne and thought, many of the knights shouted she should die and others that she should be close to the king.
- Let her be converted. – One voice sounded from the back.
The knights turned and so did Haldora. Sitting on a chair, her warrior looked at her, healed and well. He rose from his chair and walked over to her. She looked him in the eyes half praying to be recognized, half praying to be a stranger. His eyes denoted some familiarity and as he drew near she could swear he knew who she was. He ripped the cross from her neck.
- If she wants to wear this symbol so much, why not make it real? - He explained.
The king smiled at the idea. Her warrior looked at her one more time and she could smell his skin again.
- We shall baptize you and you shall live in a convent till you are a child of Christ.
Haldora bowed in gratefulness.
- Your name shall be… -, suggested the king.
- Isabeaux. – She immediately answered.
The warrior looked at her surprised.
- Isabeaux? That is a beautiful name. You shall be baptized as Isabeaux.
She was taken away by soldiers and her basket was taken as well, as it passed by the warrior he sniffed a familiar smell and turned his head. Memories were raised.
As Haldora foresaw the king’s horse healed and the tournament was won.
She was taken to the convent that very day. As soon as the heavy door closed behind her, she was taken away and stripped of her heathen clothes, and then she was dressed in her new Christian clothes and taken immediately to her cell. The heavy key turned the lock and she cried knowing she had lost her chance with her warrior. Her new companions were a bed, a candle and the bible, other then that only her friend the darkness.
Darkness… Crying… Echoing silence…
Monday, January 8, 2007
CHAPTER VIII
One by one all the men died and Haldora became the highest priestess of the rituals. She would pick the herbs and prepare the remedies, copy the parchments and keep them safe. At times of festivals she would prepare the food and the instruments, she would run the ritual when she was alone and when more of her companions in religion appeared she would take a second position. All of the followers agreed that Haldora had been a great pupil and that her strength was ever growing. Most importantly she would train herself to be centered as her mentor had told her. Alone in this place she would meditate and tried to see the world with her third eye. She could now control the voices around her hearing only when she wanted. She was learning to control things like fire and water and fog, how to raise them and lower them. She was close to achieving what her mentor had done to her. She was close to see all of a person’s life. She could see much but not entirely.
Many decades passed and Haldora understood her appearance would not change and that that was starting to draw too much attention. She began to plan her disappearance. She took part of the celebration of the New Year in the Samahain. The next day she would soon start a new life. The night was brightened by the light of the full moon. Haldora said the rites and asked for better crops, peace and serenity for her land. She offered herbs as sacrifice and stayed at her post praying till the moon went to bed and brought the sun. She welcomed the beams of the dawn and at that time ended her ritual. Her companions had all gone, when she head back home. She would only get some more food and be on her way. Half way through Haldora saw smoke coming from her house, she ran and hiding behind a rock she saw men burning down her house. Some men were wearing robes with crosses drawn on them. She understood the warning Anna had given her. These men spoke a new language. Haldora concentrated on that language to try to understand, but most words were unfamiliar. The men rode away and Haldora remained sitting behind that rock. She prayed that this was not the end of her teachings.
After a while, she raised form her hiding place and began her trip to anywhere. She walked without a route. She had no plan. She would go where her legs would take her. She was happy to find dense woods. The sight of the man that burned her house down was still fresh in her mind and she feared they knew who she was, what she was. In a sense she was as much running from them as from anyone, she needed to be near people that had never seen her before, so as not to suspect she could not age nor die. During her journey she carved a cross like what she had seen on the men’s robes, out of wood and threaded a string around it, hanging it around her neck. She thought this would make her less suspicious to all. The significance of this new symbol, still escaped her, but she was trying harder to survive than to understand.
One rainy night, Haldora searched for a cave to stay the night when she tripped on something laying on the ground. She turned to see what it was and found a man lying on the ground shivering. His helmet was still on, but Haldora was more interested on a great wound he had on his shoulder. She ripped his iron coat as if it were paper and took a better look. She then laid him on her shoulder and with some hardship brought him into a small tight cave. She laid him down and immediately searched for wooden sticks to light a fire. It took her a while to start one because the wood was wet, but as soon as she had a spark, she made the fire grow and grow, though she had little wood. The man immediately searched the warmth of the fire. Haldora removed from her basket her sheep-skin coat, she then set about removing the wet armor from the man. When she did she came across the most familiar face she had ever seen. Her warrior was lying in front of her. She removed his clothes with heist and covered him with her coat. She examined his shoulder to find an arrow’s head stuck in it. Carefully she took it out with her knife. She turned to her basket again and removed some herbs. She heated rain water and some herbs and carefully poured it inside the wound. The warrior screamed in pain and Haldora tried to hold him down. He was half conscious and stared at her, though his eyes were as blank as dead. There was nothing less to do but wait for him to get warmer and recover.
As the night progressed the shivering slowed down and the warrior was now fast a sleep. The rain had stopped and the fire was lowered. Haldora waited till she was sure he really slept. She uncovered his body and inspected it for new wounds. She slid her hand down his torso and down to his legs, breathing deeply as she did so. She took his face between her hands and leaned down, her breath was on his face and soon her lips were on his lips. Half asleep he responded to the kiss with another. He embraced her and held her close. She allowed her body to cover his. In this embrace, Haldora could feel her body regain much of the warmth she had not felt for a long time. He did not seem to notice her natural coldness. He stroked her hair and kissed her neck. She returned the caresses. His hands soon slid down her dress and lifted her skirts, caressing her legs. Haldora breathed faster, while kissing his torso. He pushed her to glue her body to his.
- My warrior… - Haldora whispered.
- My Isabeaux… - he answered.
Haldora pressed his wound, which made him shout, he was taken by pain and laid on his side contorting. She covered him again and prepared food and water.
Crying… Disappointed… She left.
Many decades passed and Haldora understood her appearance would not change and that that was starting to draw too much attention. She began to plan her disappearance. She took part of the celebration of the New Year in the Samahain. The next day she would soon start a new life. The night was brightened by the light of the full moon. Haldora said the rites and asked for better crops, peace and serenity for her land. She offered herbs as sacrifice and stayed at her post praying till the moon went to bed and brought the sun. She welcomed the beams of the dawn and at that time ended her ritual. Her companions had all gone, when she head back home. She would only get some more food and be on her way. Half way through Haldora saw smoke coming from her house, she ran and hiding behind a rock she saw men burning down her house. Some men were wearing robes with crosses drawn on them. She understood the warning Anna had given her. These men spoke a new language. Haldora concentrated on that language to try to understand, but most words were unfamiliar. The men rode away and Haldora remained sitting behind that rock. She prayed that this was not the end of her teachings.
After a while, she raised form her hiding place and began her trip to anywhere. She walked without a route. She had no plan. She would go where her legs would take her. She was happy to find dense woods. The sight of the man that burned her house down was still fresh in her mind and she feared they knew who she was, what she was. In a sense she was as much running from them as from anyone, she needed to be near people that had never seen her before, so as not to suspect she could not age nor die. During her journey she carved a cross like what she had seen on the men’s robes, out of wood and threaded a string around it, hanging it around her neck. She thought this would make her less suspicious to all. The significance of this new symbol, still escaped her, but she was trying harder to survive than to understand.
One rainy night, Haldora searched for a cave to stay the night when she tripped on something laying on the ground. She turned to see what it was and found a man lying on the ground shivering. His helmet was still on, but Haldora was more interested on a great wound he had on his shoulder. She ripped his iron coat as if it were paper and took a better look. She then laid him on her shoulder and with some hardship brought him into a small tight cave. She laid him down and immediately searched for wooden sticks to light a fire. It took her a while to start one because the wood was wet, but as soon as she had a spark, she made the fire grow and grow, though she had little wood. The man immediately searched the warmth of the fire. Haldora removed from her basket her sheep-skin coat, she then set about removing the wet armor from the man. When she did she came across the most familiar face she had ever seen. Her warrior was lying in front of her. She removed his clothes with heist and covered him with her coat. She examined his shoulder to find an arrow’s head stuck in it. Carefully she took it out with her knife. She turned to her basket again and removed some herbs. She heated rain water and some herbs and carefully poured it inside the wound. The warrior screamed in pain and Haldora tried to hold him down. He was half conscious and stared at her, though his eyes were as blank as dead. There was nothing less to do but wait for him to get warmer and recover.
As the night progressed the shivering slowed down and the warrior was now fast a sleep. The rain had stopped and the fire was lowered. Haldora waited till she was sure he really slept. She uncovered his body and inspected it for new wounds. She slid her hand down his torso and down to his legs, breathing deeply as she did so. She took his face between her hands and leaned down, her breath was on his face and soon her lips were on his lips. Half asleep he responded to the kiss with another. He embraced her and held her close. She allowed her body to cover his. In this embrace, Haldora could feel her body regain much of the warmth she had not felt for a long time. He did not seem to notice her natural coldness. He stroked her hair and kissed her neck. She returned the caresses. His hands soon slid down her dress and lifted her skirts, caressing her legs. Haldora breathed faster, while kissing his torso. He pushed her to glue her body to his.
- My warrior… - Haldora whispered.
- My Isabeaux… - he answered.
Haldora pressed his wound, which made him shout, he was taken by pain and laid on his side contorting. She covered him again and prepared food and water.
Crying… Disappointed… She left.
CHAPTER VII
Haldora took a long journey with the old man by her side. They rode each on their horse to the north, through the inside of the land. Passing through war zones, where bodies hid the land and redness ruled. Passing through empty, burned down villages. Passing through people that ran from the fighting zones, with what little tings they were able to collect. Passing through man that were drafted to the army and were to fight next to the king in one last decisive battle. To all this the Old man seemed indifferent. They would camp for the night and he would not worry about wild animals or men. In the morning they would leave and he would still look serene. As they approached their destination, the voices went silent.
The trees were gone and all they saw were open spaces and some rocks here and there. At a distance there were some houses with freckled lights within them.
- We are in the town of Salisbury and here we will remain until you are ready. – the old man explained.
- I understand.
- Can you read?
- No.
- Then that is where we’ll start.
They came to one of these houses. Stopped, got off from their horses and the old man knocked on the door. Another old man opened the door and welcomed them in. Food and beverage were laid on the table, though Haldora ate nothing. The men in the house all wore the same clothes, a brown gown. They all looked alike. The walls of the house were filled with shelves containing parchment papers rolled up and stacked on one another. On one wall there were small wooden boards also stacked on one another. Below it there sat a man copying this wooden boards carvings to parchment. The men did not look at Haldora, they continued on with their work as if she was not there. Some labored around a caldron, others, around bottles and others cutting fresh herbs. She soon came to a conclusion.
- There are no women here. – She whispered to the old man.
- You are right. It’s been a long time since we’ve taught a woman.
Haldora asked herself what this teaching would bring her. She was only happy she heard nothing but silence.
The days passed swiftly. Haldora learned to read the old tongues and the new languages. She could speak them as a native. She learned at a rapid pace. Soon she would copy the parchments herself and commit many of them to memory. When her learning of the written formulas was complete, she move on to the understanding of nature. She would take long strolls with the old men and learned the herbs. She would identify them and soon use them in potions and remedies. The sun light became more of a friend, but the darkness still kept little secrets from her eyes and little by little it appeared Haldora was becoming more of a mortal.
The voices still bothered her when she left this sacred place, but soon that would also be dealt with. The hardest thing to learn was to use her own inner strength. She would have to learn to control herself and everything around her. Meditation was in order, but she could not do so on account of the voices. Long years were passed before she could bring herself to take this last step.
The old man was now too old and dying, Haldora could feel his soul slipping away. Other men had already gone and she and very few others remained. Her heart ached for the loss of this her friend.
A very aged Anna arrived before his death and sat with him till his eyes were closed for good.
Haldora carried his dead body outside as if it were a child and laid him on a stone. She joined the others on a ritual to command his soul. In deep prayer, she felt tears run down her face, as she opened her eyes she could see winged spirits take his soul to the skies. These were new gods, her new gods.
The men kept themselves inside talking about their faith, now that the eldest of them all had died. Haldora kept herself outside trying to complete the training he had started her on.
- The years have not been cruel to you. – stated Anna when she found Haldora sitting outside with her eyes closed.
- They have been more cruel then you’d know. – Haldora opened her eyes.
- Soon I will join him. – Anna announced as she sat down with great hardship.
- I know. And I will be alone, with no one to guide me. I don’t want to be away from you, my best friend.
- Trust your instincts. They will find me. I came to warn you of things to come. The Danes are at peace with this land but more will come. You must keep what you learn here a secret and you must be careful. If you do not bow to their god, Christ, you will suffer.
- Suffering does not scare me. Not anymore.
Anna took her knife from her belt and grabbed Haldora’s hand, she make a cut through the palm and then did the same to her palm. Haldora’s near black blood oozed out of the wound and contrasted with the bright red liquid coming from Anna. They joined hands.
- You will always find me and I will always remember you. Blood sisters for eternity.
Haldora smiled to her old friend but believe she would never see this woman again. Anna went inside to rest. Haldora walked most of the night to the most sacred site of the land. Her sadness and sense of loss were great. She lay down in the centre of the gigantic circle of stones, a place where the old man had taken her many times to celebrate the seasons and the life of nature. Within those high stones she felt as safe as ever and she could feel the pounding of the earth’s heart and the flowing of her blood. The ancients said there was a dragon living at the core of the land. Haldora thought it would be Otr and she spoke to it, lamenting herself. Today she cried the loss of her mentor as she had cried for the loss of her warrior.
Haldora sat down and wiped the tears from her face and took a deep breath. She could not let her mentor down by weeping his death as a child. She would finish her training as he had instructed her. She would continue his legacy. She concentrated in her own mediation, forgetting everything around her. Immediately she was brought to a new place. In this place it was morning and men were working in the fields and tending to animals as farmers do. She stood in the middle of this little village, wearing her white tunic from the Underworld; no one seemed to be able to see her. She searched to recognize anyone but no one seemed familiar, it wasn’t her old village. Soon she saw the boy she had seen before on her away to the old man’s house. She came near him, and he still could not see her. She followed him to his house and inside she found his mother expecting a new child. The woman tried to cook, while rubbing her back in pain. The boy sat down at the table, waiting to get his food. Haldora turned to leave this house, when in front of her stood her warrior, in the farmer’s life he had chosen before. He walked through her as if she were air and sat down to eat. Haldora no longer saw the family life, she tried every way to try to touch her warrior or at least get him to hear her. Every attempt failed. Strong sounds came from the outside. Haldora left the house and her warrior followed. Men on horses galloped into the village from both sides. They came for war. On one side men wearing animal heads on their own, throwing fire to the roofs and killing every man and woman that stood in their path. On the other an army of knights, wearing iron helmets and colorful clothes. Haldora’s warrior turned to run home, but as he did a spear pierced his unprotected body…
Startled… Pain on her chest…
The trees were gone and all they saw were open spaces and some rocks here and there. At a distance there were some houses with freckled lights within them.
- We are in the town of Salisbury and here we will remain until you are ready. – the old man explained.
- I understand.
- Can you read?
- No.
- Then that is where we’ll start.
They came to one of these houses. Stopped, got off from their horses and the old man knocked on the door. Another old man opened the door and welcomed them in. Food and beverage were laid on the table, though Haldora ate nothing. The men in the house all wore the same clothes, a brown gown. They all looked alike. The walls of the house were filled with shelves containing parchment papers rolled up and stacked on one another. On one wall there were small wooden boards also stacked on one another. Below it there sat a man copying this wooden boards carvings to parchment. The men did not look at Haldora, they continued on with their work as if she was not there. Some labored around a caldron, others, around bottles and others cutting fresh herbs. She soon came to a conclusion.
- There are no women here. – She whispered to the old man.
- You are right. It’s been a long time since we’ve taught a woman.
Haldora asked herself what this teaching would bring her. She was only happy she heard nothing but silence.
The days passed swiftly. Haldora learned to read the old tongues and the new languages. She could speak them as a native. She learned at a rapid pace. Soon she would copy the parchments herself and commit many of them to memory. When her learning of the written formulas was complete, she move on to the understanding of nature. She would take long strolls with the old men and learned the herbs. She would identify them and soon use them in potions and remedies. The sun light became more of a friend, but the darkness still kept little secrets from her eyes and little by little it appeared Haldora was becoming more of a mortal.
The voices still bothered her when she left this sacred place, but soon that would also be dealt with. The hardest thing to learn was to use her own inner strength. She would have to learn to control herself and everything around her. Meditation was in order, but she could not do so on account of the voices. Long years were passed before she could bring herself to take this last step.
The old man was now too old and dying, Haldora could feel his soul slipping away. Other men had already gone and she and very few others remained. Her heart ached for the loss of this her friend.
A very aged Anna arrived before his death and sat with him till his eyes were closed for good.
Haldora carried his dead body outside as if it were a child and laid him on a stone. She joined the others on a ritual to command his soul. In deep prayer, she felt tears run down her face, as she opened her eyes she could see winged spirits take his soul to the skies. These were new gods, her new gods.
The men kept themselves inside talking about their faith, now that the eldest of them all had died. Haldora kept herself outside trying to complete the training he had started her on.
- The years have not been cruel to you. – stated Anna when she found Haldora sitting outside with her eyes closed.
- They have been more cruel then you’d know. – Haldora opened her eyes.
- Soon I will join him. – Anna announced as she sat down with great hardship.
- I know. And I will be alone, with no one to guide me. I don’t want to be away from you, my best friend.
- Trust your instincts. They will find me. I came to warn you of things to come. The Danes are at peace with this land but more will come. You must keep what you learn here a secret and you must be careful. If you do not bow to their god, Christ, you will suffer.
- Suffering does not scare me. Not anymore.
Anna took her knife from her belt and grabbed Haldora’s hand, she make a cut through the palm and then did the same to her palm. Haldora’s near black blood oozed out of the wound and contrasted with the bright red liquid coming from Anna. They joined hands.
- You will always find me and I will always remember you. Blood sisters for eternity.
Haldora smiled to her old friend but believe she would never see this woman again. Anna went inside to rest. Haldora walked most of the night to the most sacred site of the land. Her sadness and sense of loss were great. She lay down in the centre of the gigantic circle of stones, a place where the old man had taken her many times to celebrate the seasons and the life of nature. Within those high stones she felt as safe as ever and she could feel the pounding of the earth’s heart and the flowing of her blood. The ancients said there was a dragon living at the core of the land. Haldora thought it would be Otr and she spoke to it, lamenting herself. Today she cried the loss of her mentor as she had cried for the loss of her warrior.
Haldora sat down and wiped the tears from her face and took a deep breath. She could not let her mentor down by weeping his death as a child. She would finish her training as he had instructed her. She would continue his legacy. She concentrated in her own mediation, forgetting everything around her. Immediately she was brought to a new place. In this place it was morning and men were working in the fields and tending to animals as farmers do. She stood in the middle of this little village, wearing her white tunic from the Underworld; no one seemed to be able to see her. She searched to recognize anyone but no one seemed familiar, it wasn’t her old village. Soon she saw the boy she had seen before on her away to the old man’s house. She came near him, and he still could not see her. She followed him to his house and inside she found his mother expecting a new child. The woman tried to cook, while rubbing her back in pain. The boy sat down at the table, waiting to get his food. Haldora turned to leave this house, when in front of her stood her warrior, in the farmer’s life he had chosen before. He walked through her as if she were air and sat down to eat. Haldora no longer saw the family life, she tried every way to try to touch her warrior or at least get him to hear her. Every attempt failed. Strong sounds came from the outside. Haldora left the house and her warrior followed. Men on horses galloped into the village from both sides. They came for war. On one side men wearing animal heads on their own, throwing fire to the roofs and killing every man and woman that stood in their path. On the other an army of knights, wearing iron helmets and colorful clothes. Haldora’s warrior turned to run home, but as he did a spear pierced his unprotected body…
Startled… Pain on her chest…
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