SOUL MINER
Father Spurius watched as the ferry neared the port in Britannium, it was deep night and he could see many lighted structures along the shore in the distance, the air thick with the smell of salt from the water all around them. The crossing had been shorter than he had expected but none the less choppy on this wooden boat. As he stared into the ebony distance illuminated only by the stars above and those lights along the shore in the distance the Boatman spoke to him.
“I take it you are a priest of the Roman church.” The Boatman said somewhat loudly to be heard over the waves slapping against the planks of the ferry and choppy breakers in the water surrounding the boat.
“Excuse me, oh yes I am. My name is Father Spurius.”
“You sound as if you are from Gaul. I myself live there among those lights you are watching in Caer Lundein, however since the legions left we locals just call it Lundein.” The Boatman paused for a moment before speaking again. “I do not bring many of you Priests here anymore. We had one there in Lundein years ago, but he left with the last of the Roman soldiers. Most of your priests I never see leaving. Where are you bound for Father Spurius?”
“I am to make my way to the kingdom of Gwynedd, there I will ask permission from its king to establish a parish within his lands.”
“I have never been there Priest, but have heard that it is a harsh country, both of wild and steep mountains and hard people who live there. I myself have always lived along this coast, my father was a boatman, as was his father before him. We boatmen keep our attention to the sea and leave the land to those who prefer It.” Looking to the sky for a moment he points upward as he continues. “Do you see that brightest of the stars there.”
“Yes I see it” Spurius answers.
“Good, then all I can offer is this. In your travels keep the morning sun on your back and continue to follow your nose as you watch the sunset in front of you later in the day. When you move at night keep that star over your right shoulder. Travel until you come to lands’ end and facing another sea like this one and you will be there.”
Later that evening Spurius took his first steps onto the soils of Britannium leading his horse by the reins down the gang plank and off into cobbled streets in front of him. This town called Lundein stank of human habitation packed too close together.
He spent many a night resting off the dirt roads, occasionally with another traveler but most times alone with Hugo his horse. Hugo had been a gift from a parishioner of Father Halarius who had known him all his life. It had been a generous gift and much unexpected, Spurius had been very thankful to the man. On one such night he had seen a grassy clearing near a stream that appeared to have some type of wild oat growing among the grass stems so he hobbled Hugo close by a fire he built, not so much for warmth as for cooking fish he hoped to catch. And two fine specimens he did catch and was in the middle of savoring, just as a dirty cur gradually sneaked into their camp, probably from the scent of the fish. The dog was dirty from living wild and Spurius could see his ribs were barely covered with skin. The priest knew it would be more prudent to throw a rock at the dog and scare it off (so as not to run the risk of any disease it might have), but he couldn’t. Instead he peeled some of the meat away from the bones and threw it in front of the starving canine, who scarfed it down ravenously. The rest of the evening the dog slept just out of reach of Spurius. The next morning as Spurius and Hugo took to the road the dog followed at a safe but close distance.
On rare occasions, he had been able to find lodgings for he and Hugo in a stable on a farm or in a village along the road, the dog who had continued to stay with them slept close to Hugo(Spurius had started calling the dog Rollo). A few times a local lord who he had made himself known to would offer such lodgings, but usually most just granted him passage and bade him well along his way.
The countryside had been generally pleasant and not all that different from his native Gaul. This alone had been comforting in its familiarity of oak, birch, pine and maple mixed in with gorse, blue bells and field roses, especially on such a long journey as this in territory one knew so little about. For now Spurius could see up ahead what he was sure was Caer Guricon.
Father Spurius could tell that Caer Guricon had been a Roman outpost sometime in the past, He had seen many of these towns across the empire during his young life and most recently in his travels from Gaul to here. Although he never knew his own parents, the diocese where Father Halarius raised him was at the time still under the empires military governance. Rome itself had been the most marvelous city he had ever seen during his years at seminary. Now finally after ordination and the last two years back with Father Halarius, he had his own directive from the Papal See. With his goodbyes said to Halarius and everything he had ever known, he had made his way to Britanium and across many of its small kingdoms of rolling hills and forest bordered meadows here to Powys.
“Well you two, I believe we may rest here for a night or two. There is another lordlette I am bound to introduce myself to and beg his leave for crossing his kingdom. His name I am told is Cadell Ddrmllwg and it is my hope he will not have misgivings in our trespass across his lands in our trek to Gwynedd.” Spurius often spoke openly to his dapple-gray horse and Rollo (who now with time had filled quite out, almost as trying to be deserving of his name). To passersby he might seem odd, a black hatted man in black tunic with sandaled feet talking to a mid-aged dabble-gray horse, who most could tell was bred for work rather than riding and the wild looking dog. He did not meld in with the locals, in fact he stood out to all as an outlander with ties to the Romans who had abandoned Britannium several years ago.
A few minutes later Spurius was slightly tugging Hugo’s reins to halt as he came beside a man who had the appearance of a guard or man at arms standing at the side of the road leading into the town. He stood holding a spear in his left hand and a sword hung from a girdle about his waist. He wore leather armor covering his chest and stringers of the same leather hung below his girdle to hip length as well as over his biceps. Metal shin guards covered his footwear lacings and a cloak was clasp at his right shoulder. The guard looked to be no more than nineteen or twenty years old with long free flowing flaxen hair.
“May I ask your business here Roman? We don’t see many of you roman priests in Powys anymore. You are one of those Christian Priests, are you not?”
“I am a priest of the Holy Catholic Church out of the Papal See of Rome. I mean no harm here, or to any anywhere in fact. I would like to have an audience with your King and ask his leave to travel across his lands on my way to Gwynedd if that is possible. If he is so agreeable I would like to stable my horse and I in a stable in the town for a day’s rest.”
“Your Dapple looks more accustomed to pulling a plow or wagon, than being the mount for a priest or highborn and do you own this dog as well? If you follow this road straight ahead into the town you will come to a barracks as this road crosses another. There you can state your business to the Captain of the watch and he will send a messenger to our King. For now, I will watch you on your way to the barracks I mentioned.”
“Thank you sentry, I do not own the dog as you ask as much as he has chosen to be with us and we both have become glad of it.”
As during his travel from the southern coast to here, locals making their way about the town stopped to look at him as he rode past. Halting Hugo at what appeared to be the barracks the guard spoke of, Spurius dismounted and tied Hugo to a post. But before he could walk the few paces to the door of the barracks another man at arms appeared coming out of the door who turned his head back inside calling for the Captain of the watch. Seconds later an older uniformed man appeared behind the first and took steps to face Spurius, before speaking he looked up the street to see the guard at the entrance to the town still diligently watching the Priest, who now turned his attention back to his own post.
“What can I do for you priest, we see very few of your kind here in Powys anymore and I might add, gladly so?” the Captain of the guard had slightly better attire than his men at arms. His uniform had chain mail instead of leather about his broader chest and his belt was adorned with metal discs. He wore a broad sword rather than the shorter length ones of his men and he wore no shin guards over his legs. He also wore a well-kept full beard.
“I would like to request an audience with your King if possible, to beg his leave for crossing his lands in my travel to Gwynedd. I would also ask his approval to spend a night here, so I can stable myself, horse and dog for a night’s rest before we travel onward.”
“Your horse looks better suited to a plow than riding, but I will send this man here as messenger to my Lord though. We will await here for his answer.” With that he waved his hand backwards to his man at arms, who hastened to fulfill as the Captain had bid.
“Thank you for your kindness.”
“No kindness was intended, I am just fulfilling that which is my job.”
After about an hour the man at arms returned with another man, who looked to be a member of the King’s court. He was dressed in longer tunic of finer cloth of brighter colors and embroidered with silver and gold thread.
“Greetings Chamberlain, I did not intention to interrupt your day.” The Captain said while bowing slightly at his waist.
“That is quite fine Captain, the King asked that I meet this cleric personally.” The Chamberlain said before turning to talk to Father Spurius. “It is with regrets that my Lord is unable to grant an audience with you priest, as he has too many duties taking his full attention this day. I am Llyr Rhees the Lord Chamberlain to King Cadell Ddyrnllwg.”
“I am Father Spurius, Lord Chamberlain, most recently of Gaul in service to Father Halarius there. Thank you deeply for taking the time to meet me personally. I had merely wished to present myself and beg leave for crossing your lands on my journey to Gwynedd. Also, I would deign to ask permission to rest here in your town for a day before I continue my travels westward.”
“My King is at ease with granting both your requests and wishes you tidings of good fortune on your journey. I would say, for myself, that the task you have taken is one I believe fraught with many obstacles. So, I wish you luck and health. I have instructed this man at arms to accompany you to the most acceptable stable for your mount where the owner there has a room above that you can use for yourself. This will be our gift to you.”
“I am most humbled by your generosity, it has not been that way as I traveled across other kingdoms in Britannium. I can understand why of course, but I am not here to harm any.”
“I am glad you can understand the feelings of those here and be prepared for the hardships you face.” Then the Chamberlain turned to the man at arms giving him direction to accompany the priest to the stable.
The second morning after arriving, Spurius left for Cair Legion on a road headed to the northwest. After a few days he had come and spent the night in Cair Legion. Rested again he headed more westerly and after crossing the River of the Goddess, he found that the countryside had become increasingly rugged and somewhat inhospitable to his left in the distance as he took a trek closer to the shoreline in a stretch of bayside country surrounding the bay from the mountainous regions. Some of the trees and plants had ceased to be seen and the road became steeper with much more frequent uphill and downhill grades than the gentler or more gradual slopes that he had encountered from the eastern coast to close to Cair Legion. Three days later he could see the seat of King Gunedda ap Edern’s kingdom, a town called Rhos on the northern coast of the sea to the west.
This town looks nothing like Caer Guricon, yet is no less active or imposing. Although neither can be compared with where Spurius grew up in Gaul, where there is much more stone architecture with tiled roofs and cobbled roads in the manner of the Roman armies engineering. Which, even that, was only a small town compared to the opulence of Rome itself.
He found no guard on the road entering the town, yet a few he suspected were soldiers that were walking about alone or in small groups. The first guard he saw was one of a few stationed around the towns largest structure and before he could dismount Hugo, one spoke to him. He was dressed entirely different from those at Powys. This soldier wore no armor at all and his leggings went all the way to his ankles, he carried a spear and wore a sword from his belt hung slightly loose about his waist. He had a broad cape on his back that was clasped by an ornament at his left shoulder.
“Who are you, where do you come from and what is your business here?”
“I am a Roman Catholic Priest and I have a letter of introduction for your King.”
“Show me this letter, priest.”
Spurius handed his document to the soldier, who unfolded it for a look before calling another of his comrades and telling him to take it inside. A short while later that man returned following another man whose cape was of some furred animal and a simple helmet donned his long-braided hair, he also had a full crop of facial hair. While waiting Spurius had noted that the people here dressed as differently from those in Caer Guricon as these soldiers. It was easy to tell the difference in their class by their apparel; those who he thought to be upper class or freedmen dressed closely to the style of the soldiers but without weapons and of brighter colors, whereas the peasants or lower class were clad in much simpler and drabber dress.
“I have been sent to bring you inside where someone will talk with you, before deciding if the King should grant you an audience without waiting for a formal appointment during the specified times for such audiences.”
Once inside Spurius was led to a chamber where several important looking men were milling about, or in several small discussion groups. One of these men comes to where Spurius is standing and discusses with him the contents of his letter, then he leaves and goes to talk to the men in one of the small groups. After some discussion between them all, the man returns and tells Spurius he will be housed locally for the night and a soldier will come for him the following morning for an appointment with the King and his advisors. Spurius thanks the man and is led out by the senior soldier, who in turns talks with one of his men, who in turn escorts Spurius to another structure and introduces him to the owner there.
The structure is round in design with a stone wall about three feet high from there up there are logs that were secured together at the peak of the roof which is then held together with lateral beams and covered with a thatch covering from the peak to slightly below the height of the stone wall. The inside was surprisingly quite large from its outside appearance with even a second floor covering a portion of the interior.
“The soldier tells me you are a priest for the religion of the Romans and he will return tomorrow for your audience with King Gunedda ap Edern. Do you plan on settling here and trying to convert people to your religion?”
“Not here and not specifically to convert. My personal desire is to settle where I think I could be most useful and bring the works of my religion there for the good of the those around me.”
“I think you have set yourself a very difficult task priest. One I hope you survive.”
“Thank you.”
“We will eat in about an hour, you can put your horse and that dog in the shelter behind our house. You will sleep up there for the right.”
The following morning the soldier returned and accompanied him back to the king’s residence. Once there he was met by the same councilor from the day before. And led into a large hall where the King was sitting on his imposing chair on a raised platform above the floor. There were only a few other men in the room and a woman who would most likely be Queen Gwawl verch Coel sitting in a slightly smaller and slightly lower chair next to him.
“Come closer priest, so I can get a good look at you and can hear you better.”
“Thank you for granting me this audience King Gunedda ap Edern, I pray it has not been an inconvenience.” Spurius bowed at the waist as was proper before royalty.
“Were it inconvenient, you would not be here.” He said and smiled broadly. “I am intrigued by your presence here for the purpose of bringing your religion to my people without specifically trying to convert them, if I am told correctly. That has not been what priests usually do and seems to be a very unusual approach. Priests before, were here to convert my people from the local belief in the Druids that follow the old ways. Even that was different from the original Roman gods of the air, where the local gods are gods of the earth. A few did accept your faith, but not many. Explain this to me.”
“Agreeably my King it is not only unusual and in truth not exactly what my church would want to hear me say. Yet it is how I see my mission. I see it more as finding a place in Gwynedd where I can be most useful, practice my faith, and if that gives those around me the possibility of desiring to practice my religion with me. I, myself, believe that, in that I would find more true believers as an end result.”
“You Believe.” At this the king laughed quite loudly before continuing. ”Pochi dim. Byddwch yn ofalus Offeiriad. I apologize priest you do not speak our tongue, do you?”
“Not as well as my own or Roman. But I did study the Cymru language and I did understand your meaning and find no offense in it my Lord.”
“I like you priest, I, too, understand some of your roman tongue and thus I also know the meaning behind your name.”
“I see and understand what you would surmise from it. I was left at the church door of the only man I knew to call father, Father Halarius. He raised me and because the local parishioners began calling me that from the time he took me in, he named me that, even though we never knew who my father or mother were, or their exact situation. The name has served me as well as any other.”
“You are a different kind of priest, Father Spurius. I wish you well with your task, even though I doubt how successful you will be. I hope to hear more of you as time goes on. You have my leave to live among any in my lands as will allow it on their own terms.” With that said the King rose and left the hall followed by his queen.
Only then did the councilor who had accompanied him speak. “You do tend to surprise priest. If most others unknown to our King had spoken as you did, they would have met with a much different result.”
Father Spurius returned to the man who had sheltered him the night before and retrieved Hugo and Rollo. Just before he made ready to mount his horse, his attempt to offer the man payment was met with thanks but denied with a smiling face. The man then offered some directions for his travels away from town.
Spurius upon Hugo with Rollo close by headed down a road of sorts that led southeastward and directly into the bordering mountains. He now wondered at what he would find in these mountains, would it be as harsh as the boatman inferred? King Gunedda ap Edern had also not sounded as sure of any welcome he would find among these people. By the time the day was waning into evening Rhos was but a memory, no longer visible within the frequent rise and fall of the mountainous terrain.
