Chapter 22
Not wanting to return to the mountains, Aiden circled the town and continued south through the Cumberland region. Traveling between the Penines and the Cumbrian Mountains, he began searching for his next one or two nights of refuge. And by early afternoon, Aiden was within sight of the ocean. Having spent his life in a monastery, he had never seen the ocean and the smell of the sea struck him with such intensity as to leave him almost lightheaded. He realized there were many things he had not seen; many things he had not experienced. Had it not been for his faith, Aiden would have felt as though he had been, not only betrayed by the now deceased Abbot but robbed of a lifetime of experiences. Until this moment, life was simple, yet highly restricting. In the monastery, he was sheltered from the world. But outside its stone walls, there was the freedom to do what one wants, without censure. But, freedom comes at a cost. The protections of a civilized society do not exist where lawlessness runs rampant. One is free to do what one wants. But, so is everyone else. And as Aiden continued without a true destination, he would see, time and again, the barbaric results of the untethered liberties people take with one another. Their greed, selfishness, and cruelty acted as evidence of a people who neither knew nor feared their maker. After what he had encountered in Appleby, he quickly came to expect that this bloodlust for death and suffering would be anything but rare. However, he did hold out some hope that he would meet, at least, one truly good person.
He spent the next few days traveling south. Stopping at Morecambe Bay, Aiden sat near the beach staring out across the Irish Sea toward the Isle of Man. After his experience in Appleby, he was a bit relieved to find that there were people capable of being charitable. They gave him food, water and an occasional roof over his head. In return, he offered his humble gratitude, blessing them as well as their children. Perhaps they saw him as a living link to the Almighty. But for the sake of living, it didn't matter if people gave out of godly kindness or a fear of God. Regardless of their motives, Aiden realized that people tend to believe what makes them comfortable and would, in no way, try to change anyone. His horse would also be well fed and watered. And as he sat on a rock, looking out through the ocean mist, Aiden considered his circumstances. Giving what he'd already witnessed, he wondered if it would have been better to remain at the monastery. But, considering how events had unfolded, Aiden knew there was no going back. There had been only two choices: he could have allowed himself to be turned by the Abbots spell, but chose, instead, to fight for his faith. He wondered what may have happened, had his conviction to God failed. In the end, he believed he made the right decision, even though it meant taking the life of the Abbot. But, at the same time, he felt deeply betrayed. After being delivered to the Urielin monks at the age of six, he had, over time, come to trust the Abbot with his life. Now, that trust had been violated and Aiden was uncertain as to whether he would be able to trust anyone again. It wasn't simply his commitment to God that would lead Aiden into a life of solitude, but his lack of trust as well. And sitting on the beach, looking out over the Irish Sea, he saw the Isle of Man as a lonely metaphor of his life, both past, present, and future. But, there was work to do and he had taken a vow to spend his life in service to God, even though it had been prompted by a lie.
Getting to his feet, he walked his horse away from the beach and back to the trail. He continued down the coastline until he reached Bootle a small town just north of Liverpool. Like many towns in England, Bootle was an ancient place and was likely first settled by the Celts, before being conquered by the Romans. It was also largely Catholic, which meant that he would be well received by its people. At least, that was what he hoped for. Upon entering the town, Aiden immediately noticed the absence of death. There were no bodies hanging from trees, no one awaiting the cruelty of an extended execution, carried out by the hands of ignorant judgment. The air was clean, free of the foul stench of disease and decay. The town hummed with the activity of daily life as people milled about, doing what was required to live from one day to the next. But, there was one thing that would indicate the town's true colors, exposing his as a haven for goodness and charity, or as a bastion of all things dark and unholy. Aiden needed to see their church.
He rode slowly through the town almost unnoticed until finding Bootles modest church. It was in a grand statement of upkeep for a country church. And although it lacked the grandiosity and scale of England's large cathedrals, it nonetheless, left a deep impression on Aiden as a true work of art. Certainly, evil did not reside here. Dismounting his horse, he walked into the church. It was small and sparsely decorated. But, every inch of wood was kept highly polished, as was the large crucifix on the wall. He approached the crude wooden lectern, standing between the wall mounted crucifix in the congregational hall. Out of respect, he laid his sword on the floor as he knelt. Aiden quickly whispered a prayer from one of the Gospels, meditated for a few moments, and picking up his sword, turned and left. Upon leaving the small church, Aiden was startled to find an older man admiring his horse.
"Is there something I can do for you?" he asked.
The man gave the horse a gentle pat on the shoulder.
"You have a fine horse, monk," he replied.
He picked up one of its hooves and closely examine the underside.
"She's in good shape," he continued. "But, the horse needs a bridle, don't you think?"
Aiden stepped up to the man and stroking the animal's neck, replied,
"Yes, but monks are not known for their wealth."
The man nodded in understanding.
"Ah, yes," he began. "Everything costs money, doesn't it?"
The man turned away and started up the street.
"Come with me."
Aiden had thrown a rope around the horse's neck and as the man led him through town, he continued their conversation.
"Money is not everything. Most of the things we do are based on trade, a fair exchange. It could be in goods or services. But where there is no money, there is no corruption."
Aiden's face suddenly took on a puzzled expression.
"But, I have nothing to trade," he said.
A gentle smile came to the man's face. "Everyone has something to trade," he replied. "Even if they don't know it."
The man introduced himself as the town's blacksmith and as they walked towards his shop, he continued on about its daily affairs, asking Aiden specifically about the church.
"Well," he replied. "For a small town, it seems wonderfully traditional. Nothing to distract the spirit from oneness with God."
The man smiled and nodded in agreement.
"I'm glad you feel that way," the man replied. "Our priest has been dead for years and it's not likely we will get another.”
Aiden was confused. He tried to make a connection between the unfortunate demise of their priest and their previous discussion of trade.
"That is truly unfortunate," Aiden said. "Every town needs the guidance of the church."
Walking into the blacksmith's shop, Aiden quickly detected the smell of fire and steel in the air.
"Yes, I agree," the man replied.
He walked to the other side of his forge and took a bridle and bit from the wall. "Here is what I propose," he began.
He walked back to Aiden and handed him the bridle.
"Your horse requires a bridle and we need a priest. You will have shelter and the support of this town."
Aiden knew he could not possibly take on the role as the town's priest. He was only a monk and did not have the authority for such a task and handing the bridle back to the blacksmith, explained his refusal. The blacksmith took a few moments to consider Aiden's argument. "Of course," he began. "You are absolutely right. However, as a monk, you are a holy man, yes?"
Aiden thought his use of the words 'holy man' was something of an overstatement. "I suppose," Aiden answered.
The blacksmith smiled at Aiden's humility and made a second offer, one that Aiden might find a little more realistic.
"We have many children in this town and no one has been baptized for quite a number of years. Aiden repeated his previous statement, that he did not have the authority of the church. Again, the blacksmith took several moments to formulate a convincing argument.
"Are you a man of the cloth?" he asked. "Yes, of course," Aiden answered.
"And do you act as God tells you?" the blacksmith continued.
"When He speaks to me, I do what He asks," Aiden answered.
"So, what is more important to you, doing God's work or bowing to the church?" he asked. "The will of the church is not always compatible with the will of God."
Aiden understood the idea of church politics, then many things were far more complicated than they needed to be. "So," the blacksmith continued. "What does God tell you now?"
Aiden was suddenly struck with sympathy for the people of the town, mostly it's children, who, without baptism would be condemned to eternal suffering and never be received into the kingdom of God. Aiden believed that when one can help, one must. It is an obligation one is born with and must be carried out without question.
By the end of the conversation, Aiden had agreed to baptize every child of every age in the town. Sometimes, the prevention of evil is far easier than the act of banishing it. The blacksmith handed the bridle back to him.
"You may stay with me," he said. "And I will not take no for an answer."
Aiden agreed, but he felt it would only be in the way. Life in a monastery easily molds one into a solitary being.
The blacksmith lived in a small apartment attached to his shop. It wasn't much. He spent most of his time working as the town's only blacksmith. He showed Aiden to a narrow bed that once cradled his daughter. He inquired about the extra bed. Everything holds a story and this was certainly no exception. With a calm voice, the blacksmith explained that several years ago, the plague swept through the town, killing almost a third of its people. His daughter was in her teens and preparing to marry when the plague struck with the force of a sudden summer storm. First, it took a large number of the town's elderly. Then, it's children. By the time it had burned its way through the town, the blacksmith's daughter was among the dead.
"What about the girl's mother?" Aiden asked.
The blacksmith continued, explaining that his wife had died while giving birth to his now deceased daughter. He worked long hours to keep from thinking about them but found solace with God. However, he was unable to fathom why God would take the two people that provided his life with completion. But at some point, the blacksmith had been left with the impression that some things are not meant to be understood.