Read The Scribe Online

Authors: Antonio Garrido

The Scribe (51 page)

BOOK: The Scribe
7.97Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Upon hearing that, Theresa spat the water out and accepted Izam’s cup. The wine was strong and hot.

“I tried to say hello to you earlier, but you were busy.”

She responded with a forced smile. She saw Hoos eating venison and was worried he might see them.

“Is he your betrothed?” he asked.

“Not yet.” She blushed, without quite knowing why.

“It’s a shame I’m engaged,” he lied.

For some reason she didn’t like his comment, but they spoke for a while about the difficulties of the journey.

Finally, she gave in to her curiosity. “You know what? I don’t believe you really are engaged,” she said, smiling, and instantly she regretted her boldness.

Izam burst into laughter.

At that moment Alcuin arrived to congratulate them. “For your cooking, Theresa, and you, Izam, for your skill guiding the delegation,” he said.

Izam thanked him and left to attend to a couple of soldiers who were demanding his presence. Theresa took the opportunity to interrogate Alcuin about Izam of Padua.

“I really don’t know whether he has a maiden,” the monk answered, surprised he was being asked such a question.

They arrived in Frankfurt early the next day. Hoos and Izam used the morning to scour the port in search of the most appropriate ships. At the wharf they found solid Frankish sailing boats, Danish ships with spacious holds, and broad-bellied Frisian vessels. Izam was keen on strong and capacious hulls, while Hoos preferred light craft.

“If we come across ice, we might have to tug them,” Hoos remarked.

They finally decided on two heavy boats, well furnished with oars, and a light ship that could be dragged up the river if necessary.

At midday they began loading the vessels. They all ate together in a nearby warehouse, and a couple of hours later, the three boats were cleaving through the Main River crammed with animals, soldiers, and priests.

23

Alcuin of York could never have imagined that such a string of blasphemies could come from the mouth of a prelate. However, when Flavio Diacono heard the creaking of the hull, he didn’t stop cursing until the ship became completely stuck in the ice.

“We should never have embarked on this voyage!” Flavio blurted out as he climbed down from the boat with his arms full of belongings. “What is this wretch trying to do? Kill us all?”

Izam scowled back at him as he spat out the piece of meat he had been chewing for some time. He had enough on his plate trying to free the hull, without having to worry about the complaints of a couple of fussy priests. He looked ahead and swore. A completely frozen river stretched out in front of him.

Since they had set sail from Frankfurt, the voyage had been without incident and they had seen nothing more than the random plaque of ice to concern them. Fortunately the ships that were following them had managed to avoid crashing their stern and they were bobbing tamely behind. He quickly positioned a couple of beams at the bow, ordered the crew to empty the hold, and made sure the provisions and animals were located on the most solid part of the ice floe. Hoos led a group across the ice to the bank.

Flavio could not be calmed. “I’ll be damned if I know what’s going on! Now what is that man doing?”

“I don’t know,” replied Alcuin. “Getting us out of here, I suppose. That’s what we’re paying him for,” he said, continuing to gather up his books. “Please hold this Bible for me with care. It’s a very valuable specimen.”

Flavio grabbed the Bible and threw it heedlessly onto a stack of bales. He was annoyed by Theresa’s presence and the carefree attitude with which Alcuin was responding to the serious situation.

“Perhaps we are preparing to go back?” Theresa ventured.

“I don’t think so. In fact, I could swear they are intending to lift the boat out of the water and drag it across the ice,” said Alcuin.

“Have you lost your senses? How is someone going to drag a boat to Würzburg?” the Roman interjected again.

“My dear Flavio, look around you,” he said without lifting his gaze. “If Izam wanted to turn back, he would’ve used one of the other ships to tug us out. However, he has tied the ropes to the cutwater at the prow, not the stern, and then he yoked the oxen, which can only mean he intends to lift it up out of the ice.”

“But that is insane. How are thirty men going to pull a boat?”

“Thirty-one, Father,” said Theresa, who had already counted them.

“And you will be party to this foolishness?” he asked Alcuin.

“If we hope to reach Würzburg, of course,” said Alcuin, putting away some bottles. “And since it doesn’t appear like you are intending to push or pull, you could at least help me with these quills. Secure them in place there, alongside the inkwells.”

“But it’s impossible!” he insisted as he handled the instruments. “Thirty men dragging a boat—or thirty-one, unless they want to die pulling. Look at the size of the hull: It’s over twenty paces wide. And the provisions? What will happen with the provisions that we’re unloading now?”

“Maybe you should ask the commander.”

“Izam of Padua? Perhaps that upstart has spoken to you, but since we set sail from Frankfurt, he hasn’t said a word to me.” He
put down the items he was holding and turned to face Alcuin. “Do you know what I think? That you’re delirious. What you’re saying is the ravings of an old monk who thinks he knows more than a prelate. What we should be doing is continuing on foot, following the course of the river. We have oxen, and well-armed men.”

“Well, here is what I think,” said Alcuin, “I think if you spoke less and helped more, we would have already finished unloading the ship.”

“Alcuin! Remember that I warrant respect.”

“And you remember that I deserve rest. As you say, I am not young. If I am to pull the ship, I need repose.”

“My God, you persist with that ludicrous idea? Thirty-one men cannot—”

“Granted, more might be needed. As you were speaking, ten crewmembers from the second boat climbed down a ladder to come and join us,” Theresa pointed out.

Flavio didn’t even look at her. “Then permit me to inform you that you are not the only one who can speculate. If we are unable to refloat the ship, then we must transfer our cargo to one of the other boats and return to Frankfurt to wait for the ice to thaw. Those men who are crossing over now must be coming to help us unload our cargo onto their boat.”

“Is that why they are coming with all of their belongings?” Alcuin asked. “They will indeed help us, but in the manner in which I have already explained. Incidentally, if it seems such a bad idea to you, then surely you should board the other returning ships.”

“You know as well as I do that we need to reach Würzburg.”

“Well, then, stop complaining and get your belongings off the boat so that we may lift it a little easier. Theresa, help me with this volume. Look.” He pointed at the crew. “Two of the men onshore have already begun to head upriver, no doubt to see the extent of
the ice. As you can see, the rest have started to cut and prepare logs.”

“Timber to repair the ship?” the young woman suggested.

“Actually, it looks like they are making levers for moving the boat. Observe the terrain: In this area, the river pools—and this fact, along with the shade from that great mountain,” he said, pointing at it, “are the likely causes of this unexpected freeze. However, farther up, where there is no shade and the slope of the river steepens, I warrant that the water flows without hindrance.”

At that moment Hoos returned with a satisfied expression. He left his weapons on the ice and boarded the boat to talk with Izam. “As I suspected, we’ll have to go upriver for a couple of miles. But farther up, the ice begins to break up and we’ll be able to continue the voyage.”

“And the bank?” asked the commander.

“There are two or three places where it narrows, but the rest of the passage shouldn’t be difficult.”

“All right. And the lookout?”

“I posted him up high, like you ordered.”

“Then all we have to do is lift this bastard up and drag her upriver over the ice.”

Wrapped in rigging, the crew pulled in unison, clenching and straining every muscle fiber in their bodies. On the first attempt, the boat merely creaked. At each signal, the men lurched forward, jolting the ship forward with an almost imperceptible rattle. Then the creaking turned into a groan, and finally, the keel lifted into the air and dropped down onto the frozen surface. Slowly, as progress was made, the pulling became more constant. With the oxen out front, twelve oarsmen pulled the ropes at the prow. Helping were another eight located on each side of the hull and straining to steer it. Theresa and Alcuin joined in where they could. Only four men
remained on the second boat, guarding the supplies and equipment, with everyone else helping. Gradually the ship was dragged up out of the ice like a dying beast, revealing a deep scar in the ice when it finally slid forward all the way.

In the middle of the afternoon, causing a string of oaths, the ice cracked as clear as a bell under the hull.

“Stop! Stop, you damned bastards, or the ice will give way and we’ll all drown!” shouted Izam.

The men quickly released the ropes and took a few steps back. By that point the ice was thinner, and farther on it began to break up into a labyrinth of ice plaques.

“Gather in the rope and the animals. Make a hole in the ice and let the animals drink a little. You two, when the oxen have recuperated go back for the provisions,” Izam ordered.

Flavio, who had taken no part in the pulling, took a few steps away from the ship. Soon Theresa and Alcuin appeared, their faces flushed from their effort. The monk attempted to say something, but all he could manage was a groan. Then he let himself drop to the ground and closed his eyes, trying to catch his breath.

“You shouldn’t have been helping,” Flavio rebuked. “The men look at me as if I were from another planet. People like us aren’t expected to help.”

“A little exercise raises the spirits,” Alcuin panted in retort.

“You are wrong there. Leave the work to those who are obliged to do it. We
oratores
devote ourselves to prayer, the role that God has given to us.” He helped him shift the lightest bundle.

“Ah, yes.” Alcuin said. “The rules that govern the world: The
oratores
pray for the salvation of mankind, the
bellatores
fight for the Church, and the
laboratores
do everyone else’s work. I’m sorry, I had forgotten,” said Alcuin with a sarcastic smile.

“So you should not—” Flavio raised his voice, but Alcuin cut him off.

“However, you will agree that even peasants must pray once in a while. Pass me a little water, for pity’s sake.”

“Of course, and not just once in a while.”

“And additionally you will also acknowledge that the
bellatores
, in addition to training for battle, must not forget their spiritual obligations.” He took a swig of water.

“Naturall
y
,
” Flavio admitted.

“Then I don’t see why we should not do some work from time to time,” he said, feeling a little better.

“You forget that I am not a monk like you. I’m a papal chancellor. The Primicerius of the Lateran.”

“With two arms and two legs,” Alcuin reminded him, pulling himself up. “And now, if you will excuse me, there is still work to do.”

The monk looked over toward the bank. Then he stole a glance at Izam, leaning against the parapet on the ship.

“No doubt he’s worried about that lookout who left some time ago and hasn’t yet returned,” Theresa said looking at Izam.

“By God, lass, don’t be so dramatic. The scout is probably emptying his bowels somewhere or still exploring the terrain,” said Flavio.

“But look at Izam: He’s staring at the woods with such concern.”

Flavio realized she was right. The engineer was pacing up and down like a caged animal, giving orders one after the other, and his hand was positioned firmly on his bow.

Alcuin left Flavio and approached Izam. “I estimate we still have a day and half’s journey ahead of us. Am I wrong?” he probed.

Izam gave him a sidelong look. “Sorry but I don’t have time for confessions right now,” he said, walking away.

“I understand. You’re not the only one wondering about that lookout. I, too, would be alarmed.”

Izam looked at him in surprise. He hadn’t yet shared his concerns with the crew, but this priest seemed to have guessed. He fixed his gaze on the trees and stroked his chin. “I don’t know why
they haven’t attacked us already. Waiting for nightfall, perhaps,” he observed, taking it for granted that they both knew what he was talking about.

“I think the same,” Hoos interjected, joining the conversation. “There can’t be many, or they would’ve already struck.”

Alcuin and the commander turned to look at the newcomer. “When I need an opinion I’ll ask for it. Stick to your tasks,” Izam replied.

“Right you are,” said Hoos, withdrawing.

“Do you know him?” asked Alcuin.

“From Aquis-Granum, though not well. All I know is that he knows these parts better than all those soldiers put together. And now, if you don’t mind, I must prepare my men.”

Alcuin nodded and made for the place where the oxen were resting. At that moment all he cared about was protecting his belongings, and there would be more opportunities to do that near the animals. He noticed that Izam was dividing the crew into two groups. It appeared he had changed his mind about the number of men who should fetch the provisions. Hoos and Theresa were instructed to stay.

“Listen carefully,” the engineer requested. “It is possible that there are bandits behind those trees, and if there are, we must hurry. Those of you going back for the cargo, keep your eyes open and walk on the ice in the middle of the river. You three take care of the equipment. The rest of you the provisions. If you have not returned in one hour, we will leave without you.”

The men selected to retrieve the provisions set off. Alcuin and Flavio went with them. The rest tried to return the ship to the water, but with several shoves they barely moved it the width of a hand. Izam organized their defenses with barrels of arrows on each side of the ship. Then he positioned himself at the prow, ensuring that Theresa was onboard, taking cover behind a pile of sacks.

BOOK: The Scribe
7.97Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

False Sight by Dan Krokos
Today. Tomorrow. Always by Raven St. Pierre
Working Murder by Eleanor Boylan
Southern Ghost by Carolyn G. Hart
The Drowners by Jennie Finch
Scarlet by Aria Cole