Buzzards, Hawks and Ravens
(Account of Six Friends' Lives in the "Dark" Ages)
by
Ruwen Rouhs
Chapter 14.3
- Clandestine in Trescrossing –
- Jaco in the Castle –CCdO’s Secret -
At break of dawn on Saturday, Marty hugged Jaco goodbye, “I hate to leave you alone my Reedy, but I am sure Mother Amy will care for you! You will be in good hands in the castle. Don’t be sad. I bet you will not bore your pants off; Peter and Paul will see to that in school and Mads and Anno in the evening.”
“See you on Tuesday, Marty!” Jaco answered, sniffling, “I will miss you so much! Oh Marty, nobody will spoon me for nights!”
After a big breakfast and some bantering with Mads and Anno, Jaco slipped into the chapel, just when the midmorning service was finished. When, from the main aisle, he spotted the bare-assed ape-people on the fresco of Noah, where he was saving the creatures from God’s deluge, his pecker got hard again. Ashamed of his feelings, he took refuge at the altar of St. Sebastian.
Jaco was fascinated by the smile of the saintly young man. Clothed only in a waistcloth and tied to a tree, St. Sebastian looked enraptured as he gazed up to the sky, not paying attention to the pain caused by the arrows piercing his body. Absorbed by the smile of the saint, he failed to hear the low footfalls coming closer. Jaco jumped when his shoulder was touched, and he turned his head. His face erupted with joy, meeting the inquiring eyes of the Archbishop. “Thank you for making me a student! Thank you for the desk, the wax tablet, the tunic, and, and, and----!”
With sparkling eyes, the Archbishop smiled down at Jaco and quickly interrupted the cascade of words, “Looking at your mirror image again, Reedy? You like St. Sebastian as I do. ---- am I not right?”
“Look at him CCdO. Oh excuse, Your Eminency, look at his face, Eminency! It’s shining with joy! I’m sure he is looking at his father in heaven!” Recalling the Archbishop’s first remark, Jaco asked, “But why do you call me Sebastian’s mirror image? He is at least five years older and he has dark hair!”
“It’s not your age or your hair, it’s your smile that makes you his mirror image! --- But let’s hurry Reedy, the hearings are waiting, today it’s court day.”
Holding onto Jaco’s shoulder, he directed him to the palace. Today Jaco didn’t feel like a walking stick any more, as he had done at their first meeting. Today CCdO’s hand was like a gentle hug.
*.*.*
In the entrance hall of the palace clean–dressed citizen and peasants were waiting upright on benches along the walls. Everyone rose as if commanded, when the mismatched pair entered. The supplicants bowed down nearly to the floor, while the servants and guards looked startled because of Eminency’s young companion. Some of them even forgot to bow.
In the spacious courtroom the judge’s desk took up most of the room in front of the windows. The Archbishop sat down on the throne-like seat behind the desk, then the court members, his secretary and his writers took the smaller chairs on both sides. One of the bailiffs ushered Jaco to a small table with a cushioned seat in the corner of the court-room “I see that you are a special guest,” the bailiff whispered, surprised. “Aren’t you the mercenaries page? ----Please keep quiet; it’s court time!”.
For Jaco, the first three hearings were sort of boring. Firstly two brothers had a conflict about the harvest of an apple tree growing exactly at the boundary between their plots. “Share the apples in fall or cut down the tree!” was the simple verdict of the Archbishop. The second and third hearings were not much more complicated either and Jaco nearly fell asleep.
The fourth hearing amused the Archbishop as well as the other members of the court. A fat old, toothless man, a candle-maker, accused a young, strong liveryman of having gotten the candle-maker’s maid pregnant.
“That’s not unusual, they are young and good looking!” the Archbishop stated, smiling. “Is the young man willing to marry your maid?”
“Yes, he is! But I do not want him to marry her!”
“Why is this? You should be happy to get rid of the problem; first a pregnant maid to be followed by a crying baby!”
“I do not mind her to be with child; to the contrary. It is the baby I want! Her belly is fat, like that of a sow. She will have a boy, or even two; I was told by a wise-woman! I want the boy and if she gets two, I want them both. I have no heirs, so I want the boys as my heirs!”
“You do not have any claim on her babies; you are not the father!”
“That’s right, but I am her father. I am the maid’s father; she is my secondary wife’s daughter!”
Stunned, the girl, a red-haired maiden with the fattest belly Jaco had ever seen, fainted with a deep sigh and the young candle-maker stared openmouthed at the old man. The members of the court roared with laughter, except the Archbishop. He asked, with stern voice, “Why don’t you accept her as your true-born daughter, let her marry her seducer and become a grandfather in time and get your heirs as an extra?”
Now the old guy squirmed and writhed uncomfortably, and after a while stuttered, “Her---her mother---the wench betrayed me with your headsman. Would you accept the offspring of a trollop as your true-born daughter?”
“Isn’t your chance-child an obedient, diligent and devoted maid?” the Archbishop asked. When the plaintiff didn’t contradict that, he decided, “Let the two young people get married! As to you,” the Archbishop pointed with his finger at the old candle-maker, “from now on you will have a strong assistant in your business, and when the offspring of the couple has grown up, heirs, all the heirs you need!”
Next a heavily built man appeared in front of the court, dragging a skinny boy along. “This boy has stolen from me for weeks and weeks now. I know this for sure, since I lay in wait at night and caught him!”
“Is that true boy?” one of the court members asked. “Did you steal from the man?”
At first the boy was speechless with fear, but then taking up all the courage he had, answered, “No! I didn’t steal!”
“Yes, he did, High Court. He stole. He took away eggs and meat and bread! He robbed my buttery!”
Feeling the threatening looks of the court-members, the scared boy looked around for help with tears in his eyes. For an instant Jaco’s and the boy’s eyes met. Jaco couldn’t resist the pleading eyes. He rose and walked over to the boy, “Tell the Archbishop everything!” he whispered. “He is a just man. Trust his Eminency!”
Now all his sorrows burst from the boy, “I have been his domestic servant for more than four months now. Since Candlemas! Honestly, I did everything he asked of me, from dawn to dusk. Three month ago my mother broke a leg. It’s healed now, but she still can’t walk really well.” Taking in a large gulp of air, he hastened on, “She has a small traveling cook-shop. As long she was healthy, she had a sidewalk sale and sold her food at the market on weekends to make a living. But now my mother can’t walk anymore and depends on the few customers visiting her small shop. She was starving, losing weight, and has gotten sick! I was afraid she would die.” Looking for reassurance from Jaco, he went on, “I asked my taskmaster for help! I asked him to give me early payment on my wages which will be due to me on Candlemas next year. But he refused! I begged and begged, but he had a heart of stone.” Blushing, he continued nearly inaudibly. “I didn’t know of any other way out! He forced me to take away food for my mother. I love her! She must not die!”
Jaco nearly cried. He couldn’t imagine a man so hardhearted.
Infuriated, the big man retorted rudely, “He is a liar and a thief! His mother isn’t sick! She isn’t disabled! She is an arch-swindler!” Turning to the boy, “I am in the right! Your pay is due next year and not now!”
The Archbishop closed his eyes for a moment and then decided, “Bring the boy’s mother to court after the recess! I will verify if she is sick or fakes it. Let’s adjourn and go to dinner!”
*.*.*
During the recess, the court member assembled at an oblong table for dinner. The archbishop took the head and Jaco had the honor to sit to his right. Towards the end of the meal, his Eminency bowed to Jaco, smiling shrewdly, “Have you wondered why I asked you to take part in the court hearings? --- It’s part of the examination you have to pass!” Jaco began to wonder whether this was the right kind of an exam, but before he could raise any objections, the Archbishop continued, “Tell me, boy, what would be your verdict in this case?”
“I’ll bet the boy is right! His employer immediately free him, and pay him the wages already earned, less the money for the stolen goods.” Jaco hesitated a moment, then he begged “You, my Eminency, should give the boy and his mother a loan. With the money the mother could carry on with her cook-shop, while the boy sells the dishes on the sidewalks and at the market. I’ll bet they would soon be able to pay you back!”
Eying Jaco with surprise, the Archbishop answered, clearly audible for all table companions, “Reedy, you are an amazing boy. Your judgment is either that of a compassionate boy or that of a farsighted king. If the boy told the truth, I will decide in accordance with your advice!”
Jaco picked up the leg of a roasted chicken just before the court-members returned to the court-room. He slipped the delicious food to the boy waiting for the resumption of the trial.
After the hearings, back in his office, the Archbishop amazed Jaco when he said, “Reedy, Reedy, you really surprised me. You are quick thinking! I doubt if I would have passed such a challenging task as brilliantly as you did when I was your age.”
“I am glad you turned the boy free. Now he will be able to support his mother. Thanks ---” hesitating for a moment, then finished with, “my Eminency.”
Noting Jaco’s hesitation and suspecting the reason, “I’ve been calling you ‘Reedy’ without asking your permission, young man. Friends call each other by their first name. Can you imagine being friends with someone four times your age?”
“I am not sure Eminency. Your suggestion is so surprising. I think I will have to earn you friendship first.” After studying the Archbishop’s expression thoroughly, he dared to propose, “But if you don’t mind, I would like to address you just like Marti and I have been calling you since you bestowed us with your gifts. In secret we call you “CCdO”, Count Casmir d´Ogmund.”
The Archbishop burst out laughing, “I like CCdO, because that’s been my nickname since school days!” Lifting Reedy up, the Archbishop started to dance around the table.
Out of breath he put Jaco down on the edge of his desk, “Now, to earn my friendship, you will have to pass the next test.” Seated in his big chair, he asked, “What did you learn in your first week in school, Reedy?”
Eager to present his knowledge Jaco began to recite,
“Pater, ”
“No, call me CDdO, not Pater or father!”
Jaco set out anew,
“Pater no”
“No, Reedy!”
“It is the Lord’s Prayer I want to recite, CCdO!”
and resuming, Jaco recited:
“Pater noster, qui es in caelis:
sanctificetur nomen tuum.
…………………..
Quia tuum est regnum et potestas et Gloria
in saecula.
Amen.”
“Reedy, my boy, one more surprise!. I didn’t expect you to recite in Latin. Can you also write the prayer?”
Slightly hesitating Reedy presented the Lord’s Prayer on a parchment. He wasn’t really pleased with his achievement, because of the ink stains and fingerprints on the sheet.
“Well not too bad, Reedy; not bad for a first try! --- But look here, there are some scrambled letters. Its caelis not cealis and regnum not rengum! But nonetheless, you passed the third part of this week’s test gloriously. --- Now let’s celebrate!”
Sitting on the edge of the desk and dangling his feet, Jaco looked around the Archbishop’s office. He was relieved to have passed all three tests and gained CCdO’s praise. “Your office is so roomy and noble. I haven’t seen one like this before, not even in Quentisburry. The Duke’s office was much smaller, just a closet.” Looking around some more, “It’s like a hall! Do these windows over here look into the garden? And those three windows behind me, do they open into the ward? --- Are these all your books and scrolls? Have you read them all? --- Oh! You’ve got a suit of armour and a long-sword and a helmet! Is it made of silver?” after a short pause for breath, Jaco asked, musing, “I thought monks are not allowed to go to war!”
“You are wrong, Reedy. Some monks are allows to be knights,” then CCdO grinned. “Thank Heavens, you are not all-knowing after all! I am a Prince Spiritual and I am allowed to fight! I am the Commander-in-chief of an army and don’t forget, I am the Supreme Commander over your Marti!”
“But where is your bed? Do you sleep on the bare floor, like soldiers sometimes have to do?”
Suddenly Jaco got fidgety, kicking his dangling feet faster and faster. Finally he jumped from the desk and sprinted to the door.
“Hey Reedy, are you leaving?”
Jaco began to hold his crotch and stamping his feet, “I have to ----have to go. Quick!”
“No problem, take this small door, behind it is my privy!”
*.*.*
Jaco didn’t expect what he burst into behind the small door. The lavatories´ he was used to, were small, roughcast, mostly stinking cubicles with a bench with one or two holes. Not this one. It was roomy, its walls were nicely plastered and covered by frescoes. Below the window was a soft settee and beside the entrance was a wide water-basin. Jumping around agitatedly, he looked for the toilet seat. He finally noticed that the top of the settee could be folded back to uncover the hole he was looking for.
During his rather extensive session he had ample time to study the frescoes. He felt like being in a garden surrounded by trimmed hedges and flowering trees. Something roused his attention in particular. Three young boys were to be seen peeking through twigs of the hedges. One of the boys was looking sad, another curious and the third happy. The painting vexed Jaco for a moment, and then he realized that the images depicted the same boy in different moods.
After having cleaned himself thoroughly, Jaco slipped back into the office. The Archbishop was sitting at the desk with his back to him. Noiselessly he crept up to CCdO, closed his hands over the Archbishop’s eyes and teased him, “Who am I? You have three guesses!”
CCdO played ignorance at first, “You have wet hands! Are you a water spirit?”
“Nope! Second try!”
“You have icy hands! Are you a mountain spirit?
“Nope! Third try!”
“Now I know. You are Reedy; Reedy with the cold fingers,” and he grabbed Jaco and hugged him. Jaco burst out laughing and without thinking placed a peck on CCdO’s cheek.
This spontaneous attack had a result unforeseen by Jaco. CCdO’s eyes began to water. He turned his head to face the other way and went stiff as a poker. This reaction frightened Jaco out of his wits. He turned and dashed for the door.
CCdO’s voice begged, “Don’t leave, Reedy! Please stay! It’s not your fault. You didn’t do anything wrong, my young friend!”
Jaco paused, and then turned reluctantly. Searching the office with his eyes, he caught sight of a mural on the wall, one that he had ignored before; a prince leaning against a winged horse. Jaco’s attention wasn’t caught by the meticulously painted attire of the young man, nor by the unexpected sight of a winged horse. Jaco’s attention was caught by the delicate features of the prince; the features he had already seen on two occasions today; in the morning in the chapel and in the afternoon in CCd’O lavatory. The fresco in the necessary showed boys of about nine or ten, the mural a young teen and the St. Sebastian looked like a late teen.
CCdO followed Jaco’s questioning look and approached his young friend, Taking him into a hug, he asked, “You look puzzled, young friend! Reedy, what’s on your mind?”
“The three paintings, the one in your privy, the one here,” and he pointed to the mural, “and the one of St. Sebastian. Do they feature the same person? --- They do! Am I right?” pausing a long time, since the Archbishop didn’t say anything, “and why did you call me a mirror image of St. Sebastian?”
The archbishop didn’t answer. Instead he took Jaco and led him to the door next to the mural. “Come with me into my cell; there I will reveal a secret to you.”
*.*.*
CCdO’s bedroom was a small room with an alcove projecting into the garden. The contrast to his noble office was striking. The walls were only covered with lime, the boards of the floor devoid of carpets. A small bedstead, a hard prayer bench, a chest and a standing desk constituted all the furniture. The only comfortable piece of furniture was a wide comfortable chair in the alcove in the midst of a pile of books. Without a word, CCdO ushered Jaco into the alcove and bade him to look out into the garden to the wild forest behind the castle.
Jaco felt uneasy. Whatever CCdO wanted, the situation scared the boy. The Archbishop was shuffling items around. Then he touched Jaco’s shoulder and requested, “Please close your eyes, Reedy!” Carefully he moved Jaco till he was standing with his back to the wall. Then in a hoarse voice he invited him, “Smile and then look at the opposite side.”
Jaco opened his eyes and looked into the smiling faces of two boys. They looked like twins, except for their hair. One boy had dark hair, the other blond. When Jaco turned his head slightly to the right, the blond haired boy turned his head also, but to his left. The head of the other boy didn’t move. After a moment of shock it dawned on Jaco; he was looking into a silver mirror and the other face in the mirror was the portrait of an unknown boy.
Jaco was thunderstruck. Searching the Archbishop with eyes full of fear, he asked, staggered, “What is this? Is this the Devil’s handicraft?”
“No, my Reedy, it’s a creation of our Almighty Lord! God created twins, my beloved Tristam, my short-lived cousin, and thirty years later he created you, my Reedy.”
Taking the painting from the wall, the Archbishop guided Jaco to the comfortable chair. “Sit down beside me. I owe you an explanation. When I met you the first time, in the chapel, I was stunned. You were the spitting image of my Tristam. You looked like him, as he looked when I met him the first time. I decided to watch you more closely, and everything I learned about you deepened my confidence that you are Tristan’s mirror image, his reincarnation.”
Pointing at the painting in his hand, “Look, Reedy, he looks like you! And today I learned that you have his wits; his bright wit, his fast wit and his sense of justice! You are brave. Your teacher told me you were defending your friends even against stronger enemies.”
“But I am just a simple boy who doesn’t even know his parents. I was a scullion in Quentisburry and now a page. I am not a prince!”
“You are my prince and I have to tell you the story of Tristam and Casmir, of CTdO and CCdO, as our friends called us.”
Jaco, studying the painting of Tristam closely, leaned into CCdO and listened to the Archbishop’s short report.
“My cousin and I met at the school of King Rudolf. We were both about nine. From the first day, we became friends. During school terms we shared everything. Being separated during our first summer break made us both sick at heart and from then on our parents allowed us to spend our holidays together.
When we were seventeen, about thirty years ago, the rural communities Uri, Schwyz and Unterwalden staged an uprising against the Dukes of Hapsburg to regain their independence. At that time, Tristam was with the King on a visit to Italy. At his departure we had sworn to each other that we would meet at Whitsun in the city of Constance to celebrate that holy day together. Against the King’s warning, he set out on his return voyage with only one servant. On his way back he was ambushed at Lake Lucerne (Vierwaldstätter Sea). He was fatally wounded by bolts and his servant taken captive. Later the servant made an escape and delivered his last message to me: Casmir, we will meet again on Whitsun! Wait for me!.”
After a long time of silence, Count Casmir d´Ogmund added, “I entered a monastery to pray for the soul of my Tristam. In secret however, I was sure we would meet again some day. Five days ago, Reedy, about thirty years later, you appeared out of nowhere and Whitsun will be around soon! ”
*.*.*
On Tuesday morning, while it was still dark, Marti came back to Trescrossing from the military exercise. He had left behind his troop of raw recruits in order to surprise Jaco before school. Riding up to the door of their small apartment the mercenary froze in fear. The door was open, the new furniture had been removed and the old stuff was there, shattered. He jumped from his horse and dashed over to the kitchen. Charging into the room, he nearly knocked over Mother Amy. “Where is my Reedy? What has happened to him? Who has abducted my boy, my pride?”
“Calm down! Calm down, Marti! Nobody expected you at this hour of the day!” Putting her arm around his waist, Mother Amy dragged him to the palace, hinting to him to keep quiet. On the second floor she turned into the hallway opposite the Archbishop’s office and led Marti to the doors at the very end. The golden initials on the left door read MdG, the ones on the right, CRdO. Pushing open the door labelled MdG, Marti found himself in a soldier’s room, with a wide desk covered with books about weapons and military tactics, a small bedstead covered with a spread showing the emblem of Genoa, a table with two chairs and on the table a bright shining long-sword. He was speechless with amazement.
Mother Amy chuckled to herself and dragged Marti to a small passage into the next room. It was the room of a student, with a small desk at the window, strewn with writing things and parchments, a table covered with toys and weapons, fit for a squire. In a corner was a wide four poster bed. Drawing the curtains, Marti detected a curled up boy under soft covers. Cautiously the boy opened his eyes, squinting into the morning light. He smiled happily, “Marti, you will never believe the news I have to tell you!”
*.*.*
AUTHOR NOTE
I would like to express my special thanks to B. for doing an unbelievable great job by correcting all the wrong expressions and the punctuation used by a non native English writer.
Comments, reviews, questions and complaints are welcomed. Please send them to ruwenrouhs@hotmail.de. And I would like to add, thanks for reading.