Chapter 2
Aiden Selwyn was born an only child to poor parents of Doncaster, sometime during the year of our Lord 1432. A deeply Christian family, his father was a merchant, while his mother did her best to raise him as someone who recognized the need for honor and charity. And if she couldn't shelter him from the world, she would ensure that he be prepared to fight them. Life was not so much about living but surviving. The very few lived in splendor on the backs of the many, while most existed in poverty and squalor, living from hand to mouth.
At any other time before the great death, being a merchant could make a poor man king. But England, like the rest of Europe, was still reeling from the chaos of a depleted population. And with its numbers so drastically reduced, so too was opportunity and hence, money. Both kings and paupers were brought to their knees as people begged to God for respite. If He could produce a bounty of loaves and fishes for the needy, then why not them? Some believe that God's wrath still loomed over them as parents watched their children slowly succumb to starvation, only to consume them, that they may sustain themselves. The only exception seemed to be the church. They had always taken care of their own, but men of the cloth had also felt the sting of depleted wealth as the people's obligation to tithing took a more than slight decline.
His father's trade was entirely dependent on travel. And the lands of England, consisting only of an island, necessitated a route by sea. But even after one hundred years since the great plague, shipbuilders were still rare. Without sea travel, England was cut off from the rest of the world and the merchant was no longer a merchant. His mother, never having had to work, found herself scrubbing floors and waiting tables in the pubs of Doncaster. Money had become a rare commodity and both mother and father were paid, not in coin, but bread. And very little. The bottom had finally fallen out of their lives when Doncaster's businesses begin closing. English currency had become worthless and people took to the streets as crime peaked, while starvation took more each day. Finally, Aiden's parents were forced to make a difficult decision as they were no longer able to feed him. So, on one particularly chilly night, Aiden's mother and father sat in front of their small stone fire pit, a warming fire burning quietly. They had been reduced from the stately apartment of a merchant to a small, sod-roofed hut. Believing Aiden to be asleep, they debated his immediate future.
"We can't just leave the boy to the wolves," his father said quietly.
"What about the monastery?" his mother asked. "If this needs to be done, we should leave him in God's hands." Aiden was only six, but he clearly understood that he would soon be given into the hands of strangers. The one thing he didn't understand was why. He drifted off to sleep that night with the profound sadness of shortly being abandoned. But, the decision had been made and at first light, Aiden's parents packed what few possessions they had and started the journey north. Their destination was the monastery of the Holy Order of Uriel. Getting there would be, at least, three days walk. But monks are caring compassionate people, dedicating their lives to the idea of being in service to both God and man. Surely, they would take in a small boy.