Endsley – Chapter 1 – part 1

0The world is not so old as people think. A lot can be forgotten in a short amount of time. Who remembers the twelve kingdoms of Endsley, the Great Betrayal, or even one of those mighty cathedrals that crumbled to dust? In fact, no one would have ever remembered...
 
But a box was found, and we have all been taught a new, old chapter of our history...
 

. . .

 
“You turned it down?” Davenport shouted in disbelief. He opened the door wide and propped a rock against it. The old monk's study needed a good airing out. It often smelled of dust and strong oil. The old man had a habit of reading late at night.
 
“Of course I did, lad. Have you not learned anything?” Brother Dellan was a small man. He was far from handsome, but had a tender smile that made people comfortable. Though he still had a full head of hair, his body had grown soft over the years. His limp was barely noticeable. “Just as I told you. There is nothing to be gained and nothing that can be changed.”

“But this would be your chance to influence so many people; to teach the whole kingdom what you've taught here. What greater position is there?”
 
Brother Dellan took the heavy bag from the his apprentice, opened it and carefully laid out each of the books on the desk. He folded the bag and put it away. He then filled a copper cup with water and placed it beside the work area. “I have taken the greater position,” he replied, bowing. The young man sat down. “Now, Devan, your assignment.”
 
The student pulled some papers from the stack and handed them to his mentor. “I've translated this one from Hebrew to Latin and to English.”
 
“Very well, I will correct it later. Now, use your voice.”
 
Davenport picked up his parchments and began to search for the text to translate.
 
“No!” Brother Dellan interrupted. “If you have to read it you don't know it. If you don't know it you can not teach it. Tell it from your heart.”
 
“Cum autem esset Iosue in agro urbis Hiericho,” he began.
 
The old man sighed. “No one understands Latin anymore. Do not be so formal about it, Just tell it to me plain.”

“Joshua was near Jericho. He looked up and saw a man standing there in front of him with a drawn sword in his hand. So he approached him and asked 'Sir, are you on our side or are you with our adversaries.'
 
'I am neither for you nor for them,' the man replied. 'I am the commander of the armies of God, and I have come.'
 
Joshua fell to his face in reverence and said 'I am at your command, my Lord. What word do you have for me?'”

“Excellent!” Brother Dellan clapped his hands in amusement. “You will do fine.”
 
For as long as Davenport could remember Brother Dellan had lived in the wayside chapel, spending most of his time with the Testaments. He opened the chapel for a special service on the Lord’s day and any other time people could gather. Occasionally someone down on his luck would come by looking for help. The Brother would receive him for three days and then introduce him to a local landowner looking for hired help.
 
Brother Dellan was well respected throughout the countryside, but even more so at the High Cathedral. It was well known that the council had a unanimous vote waiting for him when the time to elect a new High Priest of Endsley. Even the king himself wanted Brother Dellan in this position. This is why it was such a surprise to Davenport when Brother Dellan declined the offer.
 
It was a surprise to everyone.

The Little Boy – part two

Read “The Little Boy – part one”
Part Two

Three days later, the stranger returned. The children gathered again, hands out. People watched in the distance. The stranger shook his head.

“No!” He shouted. This will not become habit. He pulled out his pouch, removed ten small copper coins, and closed it again. “Ten. No more!”

Hands out, grabbing and pressing. Ten right hands. Ten hands that found coins. Children shouted, begged, pulled.

“Go!” he stomped one foot. They ran.

The stranger wasted little time. He had come for water. He sat at the well. There was no maiden today, only the miserable heat. He lowered the bucket, drew the water, and filled his skins. He drank, then emptied the rest over his head. A refreshment.

The stranger closed his eyes and felt the wind on his wet face. “Thank you,” he said. “You do great things that we cannot understand and miracles that we cannot count. You give rain to the earth and send water to the fields.”

Opening his eyes once more, the stranger saw the little boy. He looked to the boy’s hand. His was not one of the ten. He had received nothing.

The boy was near one of the taverns eating a piece of old bread. He looked into the doorway, suddenly. His head shook as though he were answering a question. Immediately, he jumped up and ran off, just as a bottle came crashing to the ground where he was sitting.

The stranger noticed, but did nothing. “Miserable useless men,” he thought. “At least the boy will learn not to return there.”

Seventy-eight steps. Out of the gates. Gone.

The Little Boy - part one

When the stranger entered the village, dozens of children came running. Each one was holding out his hand and asking for a coin. The stranger felt compassion in his heart and removed his pouch. One coin for each right hand. This was the way he would not pay a clever child twice.

“That’s all.” He shouted with a deep timbre that dispersed the crowd instantly.

The pack of children disappeared as quickly as it had formed. One young boy in a tattered shirt and a with hole in his shorts, stopped in mid flight. He turned back and took three small steps towards the stranger. He smiled.

“Thank you, sir.” Then he was gone.

The stranger walked into the village and observed what he could.   No fine garments. A humble town. People working, so there was work to be had. A few bars and taverns, with customers… wasteful men, drinking in the mid-day.

The market, was a hot street, where merchants selling everything. He wanted nothing, except to be refreshed. He sat at the well and a young woman drew some water. She said nothing, as she set the bucket on the bench.

“Drink, sir.” She broke the silence. “You are thirsty, and you are kind. Let me repay kindness to you.”
“Kind?” the stranger replied.

“The angels are not the only ones that observe what you do.”  She smile, but looked down and away. “People watch. People talk. Everyone sees. Nothing is hidden.” She looked up briefly “Drink, sir, and fill your skin.”

The stranger drank. “Thank you.” He took water for the journey, then turned to go. He did not look back. She was right. Everyone sees. He saw too. She was beautiful.

Out of the city gates. Gone.

He would return.

Just a little story space

This blog “Café com Leitura” (if you know Portuguese you get it), is just a blank space for me to write stories or post recorded told stories. Some will be good, many will be average-at-best, and some will be just a waste of space. This should be a lot of fun.
These are my planned categories, so far:

• Short Stories – Just short stories with no particular theme.
  
• Bible Stories – Stories from the Bible, pure and unbroken as they are in the Bible, but in my own words.
  
• Bible Based Stories – Composite stories put together from several Bible passages.
  
• Bible Inspired Stories – Stories that draw from scripture as inspiration, but are not Bible stories.
  
• Told Stories – Recorded Audio stories.
• Mapped Stories – Stories with a hand-drawn map to accompany.
  
• Chapters – If I ever get to writing something longer than a short story, it will be in chapter form here.
  
• Poems – I doubt I will do much of this or be good at it, but why not try?
  
• Borrowed Stories – Stories that I’ve found here or there that I liked and had permission to repost.
  
• Portuguese – Sometimes I will post a story in Portuguese.