The First Book of Samuel - SAREJESS (chrysanthemum read aloud TXT) 📗

the rear of the group, were six monks bound together by rope at the necks and the hands.

As the horseman approached, the villagers drew to the side of the road, allowing the men at arms to pass. Sir Peter brought his horse to a halt and looked down at the fisher folk “What are you scum doing here?” he roared. No one spoke. “Well” asked Sir Peter. Samuel stepped forward doffing his cap, “Squire we are returning home from our day’s labor on the fishing boats” he said looking calmly up into the cruel dark face of the knight. “Make sure that you return to your homes soon” said Sir Peter kicking his horse into action once more.

Once the men at arms had moved off, the villagers looked sheepishly about them before starting for home. Samuel took the lead with a few of the more brave souls and took the road to the monastery. When they arrived at the monastery they found that it was on fire. Nearby, Samuel found an old monk kneeling over the body of the Abbott. The good Abbott had an arrow sticking out of his throat. The villagers stood looking at the burning monastery before noticing that the old oak nearby had been used by the men at arms to hang some of the monks. The dead monks, their hands and feet swollen, tongues drawn out, swung back and forth in the slight breeze. Samuel knelt next to the old monk who was saying a prayer for the dead. The old man, doing the last office for the Abbott, the eyes of the dead man looking up and gazed over the pool of blood round the body that had already frozen.

When the old monk had finished praying Samuel asked him “What happened here? The abbot told me that he would not resist the men at arms, why did he change his mind?”

“He didn’t” replied the old monk. ‘The Abbott had already surrendered the keys when one of the men at arms tried to steal a gold cross from the Abbott. When Father Alfred protested, Sir Peter shot him with a bolt. Some of the younger brothers were so shocked that they protested and you see their fate, they hang on yonder tree” Sobbed the old monk. “Sir Peter said they needed to be taught a lesson. They took away the rest of the brothers, bound like cattle.”

“Why did they leave you then?” asked Samuel. The monk lifted his robe. Samuel saw the reason quite plainly. The monk only had one leg. Sir Peter had left the old man to die in the cold. The monastery did not hold any treasures. Its only thing of value was the lands and now the monastery had been destroyed. There was nothing left in the way of Sir Peter's greed; he would now hold the lands. No more would the villagers get food from the monks of St John by the Sea.

Samuel called the few villagers who were mulling around, shocked and not sure what to do. “Come let us bury the good fathers” said Samuel “Let us do our duty to these men of faith. Let us do this last office.” Samuel closed the eyes of father Alfred before taking a spade and began to dig in the hard ground. All the while the old monk wept, not knowing what would happen to him. It was long after nightfall when the fisher folk left the ruined monastery, taking the old man with them. The light of the burning monastery lighted their way home.

The villagers helped the old monk towards the village, however what to do with the cripple was not resolved that easily. There was a heated debate in the village marketplace on who would care for him. Each villager who was asked gave some reason why he could not care for the old man. John the blacksmith was far too busy. Arthur the baker said he had far too many children and his wife was expecting another. Samuel listened to the various reasons before stepping in and saying he would take care of the old man if the other villagers would provide him with a daily ration of food for both of them. To which the some villagers agreed hesitantly others like Samuel taking pity and agreeing quite readily.

Samuel helped the old man to the hovel where he lived. When Samuel had first come to the village, the hovel had been in a sad state. But he had in his spare time fixed it up as best he could and now a fire burned at the hearth and it was warm.

Over the next few days Samuel watched as the old man relived his life, sleeping often, mumbling in his sleep of his days as a youth in Surrey. Later he would wake and speak in broken sentences of the monastery and his life there. He had come to the monastery after a life of toil as a sailor on the high seas, as a crewman on a rich merchant’s ship. However when he had lost his leg in an accident the merchant had taken him to the door of the nearest monastery and abandoned him to the care of the monks.

As Samuel listened he became aware that the old man had lost the will to live, he was simply too old and injured in spirit to change again to a new life style. After a week he developed a cough and began to grow weak. One early morning Samuel awoke, finding the old man breathing heavily he rose and gave the old man some water. The old man’s eyes were shining brightly in the low light given by the ox fat candle. “I would thank you friend Sam for your hospitality. It is not everyone who would take in an old broken man in these days of trouble” said the old man. “It was nothing that any man would not do for an old servant of the church” replied Samuel. “Ah Sam how easy the lie lies on your lips. You don't think the monks at the monasteries know what the people think they tow the line from King Henry. You are an exceptional man Sam.” Nothing more was said. The light in the old man’s eyes growing dim. At dawn the old monk died, coughing once, then a great fountain of blood erupted from his damaged lungs. Samuel held him in his arms as he watched the light fade from the old face, breathing his last.

Later in the day the old monk was buried in the churchyard with only Samuel and a cleric in attendance. Having no coffin, the old monk was wrapped in a sheet and laid to rest in the cold earth.
The cold winter wind blew as the grave was covered up. Samuel turned walked to the hovel, gathered a few pieces of clothing and left the village on the road leading to London.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
1630 AD Batavia South East Asian subcontinent
Having been some years occupied with the making of profit in Batavia Samuel one day decided that the time was drawing near when he would once again need to return to Europe. It was not that he really wanted to for his time in Batavia had brought him great wealth, however the matter of his longevity had once more come to the fore. He had first come to Batavia in the year 1610 and from a humble start had build up quite a considerable fortune. Through trade he had increased his small fortune over the years. Now while others came to the east to work for Jan Company had varying luck with their fortunes by and large most had either returned to Europe not much richer than when they started out or were laid in the cold dark earth of Batavia having been carried away by fever or disease. Yet still Samuel had prospered until he found it difficult to hide his increasing wealth.

With this in mind he set about putting his affairs in order, arranging for a return trip was not one of the easiest things to arrange. A passage aboard a Dutch East Indiaman required the help of many officials within the organization to sign off the necessary documents before the junior merchant Ferreira was permitted to board the vessel which would carry him home to Amsterdam. Thus one day at the end of the year he boarded the vessel which was making ready to sail. Once his chests had been stowed he came on deck to watch the workings of the vessel. It was a novelty to watch as these rugged men, these sons of the sea applied themselves to the work of sailing the ship. He observed how they ran on command up the rope ladders which placed them on the cross trees of the vessel high above the deck. One mistaken step meant the difference between life and death for should a sailor fall from the mast he would be broken on the hard wooden deck. If he survived the fall he would be a cripple for the rest of his life, without an income to speak of. Seldom were men who sailed these great ships married for the voyage to the East kept them away from their home ports for many long years and seldom would a woman marry a man who she would seldom see. Samuel had seen men before who had fallen from the mast. They would hobble along on their walking sticks, bent, broken things begging a penny here and there for gin.

As the ship left the harbor of Batavia on this fine afternoon the breeze tugged gently at the sails overhead. Samuel looked back across the waters towards the city. There he could see the tower of die Groot Kerk towering above the houses, which had been build in the typical Dutch style with the practical Dutch eye for detail.

The days following the sailing caused Samuel much stress and he was ill for he had once spent a few weeks in a small boat on the open sea and the very thought of spending any time in a small boat brought the full horror of those days to his mind. Every night when he retired to bed he would whisper a prayer that no hurricane or storm overtake the ship. The captain, a big hearty man laughed at his fears one evening over dinner of salted beef. "Come Mynheer Ferreira, surely you cannot think that our fine ship cannot take a little water?" "I tell you I have sailed these Oceans for twenty years, man and boy and the only thing I fear is being caught by pirates. That is one thing I will never allow to happen" said the captain. These words brought comfort to Samuel’s weak stomach. He had never been much of a sailor, now he found himself taking the air and speaking with other passengers who were returning from the east. The one thing that was foremost on all of their minds was the preservation of their chests of coin, which each had accumulated through their years of service.

As the ship headed south along the coast of Africa, they sometimes put in for water. The Dark Continent had a strange attraction for Samuel; he found that he enjoyed the brief trips ashore. Here he would wander always under the eye of some of the crew members stopping to pick up a stone which he would drop into his pocket or a shell with strange design which he would clutch to his chest, as he returned to the ship. It could be said that Samuel at that time was much a product of this time,