Buzzards, Hawks and Ravens
(Account of Six Friend's Life in the "Dark" Age)
by
Ruwen Rouhs
Chapter 6.1
St. Michael's Market
- The Minstrels -
With chattering teeth and shivering in pain, the dark-haired boy was curled up in the arms of a heavily breathing woman clad in multi-coloured wrappings. With frightened eyes wide open, he was staring at Ruwen. Dried tears streaked his tanned cheeks and his right hand clutched his dangling left arm.
"Where is the Wise Woman? We need help!" demanded the woman, "Please, she must help my son!"
"He looks injured: what's happened to him?" Ruwen questioned the female stranger. "Aliah, the Wise Woman, is out for the moment. I will try to help him!"
"But the blacksmith told me to look for the Wise Woman or the Healer, not for a boy!" she insisted, "He told me ask for the Healer!"
Ruwen smiled to himself. He was not used to being recognized as the ‘Healer’. "Don't rattle on; better tell me what happened, since the boy needs help immediately!"
"We arrived yesterday night to perform at St. Michael's Fair. A beam crashed down and hit his left arm while we unloaded our equipment. Everything seemed to be all right at first, but during the night my little boy started to writhe in pain and the pain got worse and worse. Please help! Where is the Wise Woman, for God sake?"
Ruwen took the small sobbing boy out of the reluctantly releasing arms of his mother, carried him to the bed in the back of the hall, and put him down. Carefully he tried to examine the hurt arm, touching it lightly and moving it cautiously.
The sobbing of the boy increased to a piercing weeping.
"Stop it, you’re hurting my boy! Where is the Wise Woman?"
"Aliah will be back in a moment!...Your boy has a broken arm!" patting the boy's cheeks, "Don't cry little man; I know that hurts like hell. Tell me your name; I would like to know it! How old are you?"
"I'm Mirza, I am five years old!" he answered in a hardly audible voice, "Will you help me, please? My arm hurts so much. Please make the pain go away! Please!"
Just then, Aliah came limping into the room and turned to the mother, "You should have brought the boy to my place yesterday; a broken arm needs immediate attention!" and then, "Get going Ruwen, prepare a sleeping sponge and then fetch two wooden lengths for the splints, and get Bastian. We need to have three for the splinting!"
The strangely dressed woman calmed down at the sight of Aliah, because the old woman looked like a "Wise Woman" with her white hair, her hump-back and crooked cane. She looked much more like a healer than the slender dark haired young Ruwen in his farmer's outfit.
Ruwen retrieved a clean cloth from the drawer and soaked it with an essence of poppy seed, mandrake and henbane. Mirza looked suspicious and even more so, his mother, when Ruwen ordered him, "Suck the sponge! The potion will kill the pain and then the splinting of your arm will not hurt at all!"
Aliah noticed the woman’s doubtful look. "Are you Mirza's mother? Look, dear woman; Ruwen is a healer too; he is still young, but you can trust him!"
Mirza looked anxious, but at Ruwen’s smile he obediently downed the sharp tasting liquid. Next, Ruwen prepared two splints of about the length of the boy's upper arm, and then hurried home to fetch Bastian.
When Ruwen came back with Bastian trailing behind, the boy was already lethargic and had stopped crying, with most of the pain now abated. Together the three stretched the arm till the ends of the broken bone met at the right angle, then they put the arm into the splints and Aliah wrapped it all with bandages soaked in a mixture of egg white and flour, to stabilize it. Mirza's remaining pain subsided immediately after the arm was splinted and he soon fell asleep.
After midday, Ruwen came back, looking for his small patient. The injured boy was sitting on the bed and greeted Ruwen with a wary smile "Thank you, Wise Man. I have no pain at all, thanks to your aid!" and, bowing his head, he added elegantly, "Thank you, great Wise Man!"
"Are you kidding me? Call me ‘Ruwen’. Nobody calls me ‘Wise Man’. Everyone calls me by my first name, Ruwen!" Remembering the meal he was carrying, Ruwen asked Mirza: "Are you hungry?"
Mirza rose from the bed and, hugging the young healer with his right, he replied, "Yes, I could eat a pig!"
"Will this bread and cheese do instead, you little monster?"
The boy giggled and started to wolf down the proffered food at once. With his mouth still full, he inquired, "How much do I owe you, Healer…Ruwen? I have only this small coin." With that, Mirza pulled out a quarter of a penny and handed it to Ruwen. "I am a poor minstrel boy and my parents have neither gold nor silver."
"Keep your coin Mirza, and get well quickly. We will find a way for you to repay me!"
But Mirza insisted, "Please Healer tell me now, how I can repay you."
*.*.*
The responsibility of the Midsummer Night Prince not only included care for the security of the village, but also the organization of festivities, especially the dances at the Fall, Winter and Spring solstice, and the Fair on St. Michael's day on the last weekend in September. The Fair was of great importance for the whole county. There being two Midsummer Night Princes this year was a great advantage, in that the responsibilities could be carried by four strong shoulders and two quick brains. Ruwen and Bastian had split the responsibilities in accordance with their special abilities. Ruwen, who was able to write and read, had taken over the sourcing and invitation of Traders, the Theatre Company, and Artists, like Tightrope Walkers and Fire-Breathers, from near and far. Bastian, being more down to earth, was managing the preparations at the Village Green and doing all he could to make the Fair trouble free.
Yesterday night the long-awaited theatre company had arrived. So far, Ruwen hadn't had time to check out the travellers, mainly because of his never ending job as a healer and midwife. Taking advantage of Mirza's accident, he decided on an immediate visit to the Village Green. He took Mirza by the hand and walked down.
The travelling company had arranged their three small wagons in a half circle at the upper end of the Village Green. A wide stage for the plays was already set up in front of the wagons and there was a small stand for the band of Gypsies, on the right. Mirza dragged Ruwen to the wagon on the left.
As soon as Mirza's mother noticed her little son arriving with Ruwen, she rushed over and produced a curtsey. "Thank you, Wise Man! Forgive my ignorance; I haven't met such a young healer before, and I have travelled the world from Rome in the South up to London in the North, from Constantinople in the East to Paris in the West!"
A slender dark-haired man turned up behind her. He bowed deeply and added, "I have heard of you and your brother, the chosen ones, the Midsummer Night Princes! Thank you for inviting my Theatre Company to perform at the Fair…Welcome, my Midsummer Night Prince, to my humble place!" and with these words he tried to usher Ruwen into his wagon.
Ruwen blushed deeply. He really wondered why Bastian and he were such celebrities! He responded with a slight bow, "Thank you, sir, but we are just simple farmer boys and I am glad I was able to help Mirza. Congratulations, you have a very brave son."
Mirza beamed, "Are you really a prince? I never have touched one, much less walked with one, hand in hand. I never dreamed a prince would take my pains away!" Then, a little hesitantly, looking at Ruwen with dreaming eyes, "Do you live in a castle? Do you have a Suit of Armour and a War Horse? Do you have a Knave and Knights to fight for you? Where is your palace?"
"Oh Mirza. Bastian and I are poor boys like you. We have to share one small room and one small bed and have no Knaves at all!" Spotting the doubt on the boy’s face, Ruwen added quickly, "But I gladly invite you for a visit to our house, to check the truth and, if you like, you can be my knave at the Fair!"
Mirza's mother did a curtsey again, "We are poor minstrels with hardly any money. I would like to offer you the most precious gift travelling people can give, instead of gold and silver. Let me foretell the future to you: let me foretell the future for you and your fellow prince."
*.*.*
A full moon was shining its silvery light over the sleeping village, as the cool air rolled silently down from the mountain range. Only on the fairground was there a buzz of life; with traders, tinkers and cattle dealers still setting up their stalls around the village green. The small band of gypsies had placed their bright coloured wagon to the right of the stage next to the travelling company, and had indicated their skill as rope runners, fire eaters, musicians and fortune-tellers with some small examples.
The theatre company had announced their first performance for this evening. A lad with golden hair and a red embroidered cap, mounted on a grey horse, had been riding through the village, accompanied by fiddlers, tambourine players and a drummer; and had proclaimed the performance at the front door of every house.
"Tonight; tonight the great theatre company of Nithart the Minstrel invites you to enjoy the unsurpassed performance of the famous play "Das puech von dem Mayr Helmprechte". This is the only performance authorized by the writer himself, the famous Wernher der Gartenaere.”
Mayr Helmprechte
By early dawn, many excited young people living in the village and in hamlets close by had already gathered in front of the stage, anxious not to miss out on the rare opportunity to view the theatrical production. Meanwhile, festively dressed older people waited for the play to begin, in the nearby inn. Bastian and Ruwen didn't want to miss out on this very rare event. Together they were waiting amidst the other young people, when Mirza showed up and ushered the two to a soft seat in front of the stage "Mother and Father ask you to have the honour of the best seat! From here you can follow all parts of the play. I will you join later and explain the play to you!" Mirza didn't wait for an answer and vanished behind the stage.
The narrow stage was divided into three sets. The left set represented a farm house with a draw well in front; in the middle set, a draw-bridge which was open to the inner ward of a castle with a big tower, and the right set pictured a clearing in the middle of a sinister forest with a towering gallows in the center.
Drumbeats, the sound tambourines, and flutes, announced the beginning of the play. Torches flared and Mirza's father, the minstrel Nithart, impersonating a princely herald, announced the play with a loud voice, accompanied by his lute:
"Welt ir nû hœren waz dâ stât?
………………….
Ein meier der hiez Helmbrecht:
des sun was der selbe kneht
von dem daz mære ist erhaben."
("Would you like to hear what this book tells?
…………………
Once there was a Farmer called Helmbrecht
He had a son who was toiling the land
And it's him of whom this tale is all about.")
The tale itself was well known to the villagers, not as a play, but as a poem recited by travelling tale-tellers on cold winter nights at the warming hearth fires. The story was simple and cruel. It pictured the fate of a high-flying farmer boy, his rise and fall.
Mayr Helmprechte was the son of a rich farmer, a tomfool and dreamer at the same time. Everyone told him, he was a lucky guy, because he was born with a caul. One day the lad found a splendid looking cap tangling from a branch of a tree. The noble cap was embroidered with noble scenes of kings and queens. Taking this a wink of fate he immediately decided to become a knight. He jumped into the draw-well to clean himself. When he emerged from the cold water his short black hair had turned into golden locks falling down to his shoulders.
Ignoring all warnings from his far-sighted father and the laments of his mother, he put on the cap and took off with his horse to make his fortune at the King's residence. At a duke's castle, he asks to be ordained a knight and to be given the duke's arrogant daughter for a wife. However, the overbearing duke and his hoity-toity daughter ridicule the foolish and awkward yokel and turn him out of the castle. The outraged would-be knight vows vengeance, and with his splendid cap on top of his golden hair, he joins a gang of robber barons to make a fortune. The robbers mug counts and earls, traders and farmers, rape virgins and nuns, burn castles and villages. Finally the robbers get caught. Nine of them are hanged on the gallows, but the tenth, Mayr Helmprechte, is allowed to survive. But, to deter other would-be-knights, he is robbed of his both eyes, his left foot and his right hand and send back to his father. Having hit rock bottom, he returns home as a cripple. There he is ridiculed and despised by his fellow countryman as a loser. In desperation, he takes off into the forest, where he is caught by farmers he has robbed before. They take away his splendid cap, tear out his golden hair and kill him like a dog.
At the beginning of the performance Mirza sneaked up on Ruwen and Bastian. He claimed a seat between the two. There he sat, smiling like the snow king. He was happy as a lark at having two princes as friends. He explained the action on the stage, and revealed which of the small number of members of the stage company were impersonating which of the many characters in the play.
He whispered to the two, "Look, the good looking minstrel, that's my father, and he is the proud Duke also, as well as the savage chief of the robber barons; and the lovely Duke's daughter, Amelint, that's my mother, and she is also Mayr's poor sister Gotelint, and the crooked witch, and one of the crying farmer wives." On and on he went listing all the others parts, Mayr Helmprechte, the yokel's father, mother and sisters, the Duke's Jester, the Robber Barons and their chief Lemberslint, the Sheriff and his henchmen, the other farmers and their wives, the nuns and the band of Gypsy Musicians.
The onlookers cheered the foolish dreamer in the beginning. They had their malicious joy with the awkward yokel at the Duke's Castle, were uneasy with murderous attacks of the robber barons and finally very sad about the disastrous ending for the poor dreamer.
As the torches went out at the end of performance everybody was upset by the terrible fate of the simple-hearted Helmprechte. Many girls were crying and those lads who had been dreaming of a career as a Knight and winning a beautiful princess, decided to stay at home and marry their neighbour’s clumsy daughter instead.
But soon the spectators forgot about the sadness of the play, because a big fire was sparked off by the Gypsies; with roasted lamb and chickens being sold to the hungry guests. Soon the young people were dancing on the fairground, to the tunes of fiddles, harp and drums as well as the singing of the minstrel.
*.*.*
Ruwen and Bastian left the Fair for home, while the others still enjoyed the night. At the edge of the village green they stopped in surprise. A woman, dressed up like a princess in an embroidered gown with a pearl studded coronet, waited in the silvery moonlight.
"Whereto, you brave princes? The night is still new and the moon is high! May I foretell you the future?"
Recognizing Mirza's mother in costume from the play, Ruwen replied with a bow, "Dear Lady Amelint, have the Norns who weave our web of fate! They guard us and they keep us on a straight path! They rule our lives!"
Bowing also, Bastian added, "We trust in the Norns care, and we trust in our wit and strength! So, thank you, fair Lady, for your gracious offer!"
Just then, Mirza turned up behind his mother, "Remember Ruwen, you promised to take me to your palace tonight. Please, my princes, take me with you as your Knave!"
The way up the road from the fairground to Klas's farmhouse was long and tiring for a five year old boy. After some steps Ruwen picked up Mirza. The little minstrel boy wrapped his legs around Ruwen's waist and put his healthy arm around Ruwen's neck. Ruwen enjoyed the bird-like heartbeat and Mirza’s warm embrace and started to sing a lullaby into the ear of his little friend. The minstrel boy was firmly asleep when they reached their home. He didn't even wake up when Bastian took him out of Ruwen's arms to carry him upstairs to their room.
"Did you feel his bird-like heartbeats and his soft breathing, Bastian? It was so wonderful; I wish I could have a lot of sons like him!"
"Me too, dear brother, but now it's time for a goodnight kiss!" At that very moment, when Ruwen kissed Bastian's cheek, a small voice rose from the bed, "I need a goodnight kiss too. My mother always kisses me goodnight!"
*.*.*
When Mirza woke up late next morning, Ruwen and Bastian had already left. He looked around in the room and then snuggled back into the warm cushions. He felt like a prince lying in a big soft bed, in a bright and tidy room with a window to the garden, all his own. The room was not really big, not really tidy, but spacious and tidy compared to the traveller’s wagon he had to share with his mother, his father and his two small sisters. After enjoying the aloneness for some time, he decided to climb down the stairs to the main room. As he peered into the room a big orange coloured tiger came pouncing towards him. Frightened, he called out, "Help! Help!" but quickly he realized it was just a big yellow cat; and the cat realized that the stranger was just a frightened little boy. She started to rub her head softly against his legs - purring loudly.
Startled by Mirza’s short-lived shriek, Bastian's mother immediately noticed the hesitant boy at the door, "Come in Mirza! Bastian and Ruwen have told me all about you and have asked me to care for their little Knave like a mother. They had to leave already, but you are big enough to have breakfast on your own…it's over on the table. Later, you can go down to the Fair to your parents, or you can stay with me and help me with the chickens and the pigs!"
Mirza rushed to the table and started wolfing down the food. He replied with his mouth still full, "Oh Lord! That tastes good! Sweet milk and fat porridge! I haven't had these for years! Thank you, Madam!"
"Don't call me ‘Madam’. I'm Bastian's mother, call me ‘Aunt Miriam’. ‘Miriam’ nearly sounds like ‘Mirza’, doesn't it?"
Later on, still chewing happily, Mirza stated, "I'll stay with you, if you don't mind. But I can't help much, because of my broken arm!"
"That's alright. Let's go feed the chickens. You only need one healthy arm for strewing grain; and later on we will let the piglets out into the pen in the garden."
Mirza was happy. What a roomy house with its big stables for cows and pigs and chickens. And the fine barn filled up to the roof with fragrant hay and straw. The farm even had two outhouses, with doors he could bolt, so nobody could disturb him while he was relieving himself.
After the midday meal, while resting in Ruwen's bed, Mirza contemplated, "I like it here. It's nearly like a castle; everyone likes me, Miriam, Bastian, Ruwen. All are so kind, even the big cat and the piglets. Should I stay here for ever, and never move on?...On the other hand, I want to become a famous minstrel and an actor like my Dad; I want to sing to people and make them laugh and cry; I want to see the big cities in the South and North and in the West and East; all that my mother told me about! What shall I do?" Closing his eyes, he tried to study all his possibilities from all sides. He fell asleep.
Later in the afternoon, down in the kitchen, he told Miriam precociously, "I have made a compromise with myself! I will stay with you, Aunt Miriam, till the Fair is over, and then I will leave you and Ruwen and Bastian, and travel with my mother and father. I will learn to sing and play the lute, and how to perform in front of an audience. Then next year I will be back again with you and Ruwen and Bastian! I love you and the princes!"
AUTHOR NOTE
The morality play, "Das puech von dem Mayr Helmprechte", is a novel in verses by the minstrel Wernher der Gartenaere written about 1260.
I would like to express a special thank to Anthony and Paul for doing a great job by correcting all the wrong expressions and especially to B. who revised the language used by a non native English writer.
Comments, reviews, questions and complaints are welcomed. Please send them to ruwenrouhs@hotmail.de or use the feedback form below. And I would like to add, thanks for reading.
Copyright Notice - Copyright © 2007
The author copyrights this story and retains all rights. This work may not be duplicated in any form – physical, electronic, audio, or otherwise – without the author's expressed permission. All applicable copyright laws apply.
Ruwen Rouhs