Читать книгу The Wolf Letters - Will Schaefer - Страница 11

To Ohthere, honoured and beloved friend; Bishop Ecgwulf, servant of the people of God, sends greetings in the Lord of Lords.

Ohthere, I have received your letter regarding the circumstances surrounding your departure from Barking. The news of your safe arrival in Frisia was joyfully received. It is well that you, a faithful servant of God’s Church, have been preserved from misfortune. I give thanks to the merciful Lord for your deliverance.

You have asked for my help in communicating the news of your arrival in Frisia to Abbess Eulalia of Barking. I feel I must say, my mighty young brother in Christ, that I have agreed to your request, but have done so reluctantly.

Let me first say that I know you both well enough to trust that you have not committed the sin of betraying your vows. But, at thirty years old, mature as you are, you and Eulalia are still young enough to harbour a love for one another that is perhaps more powerful than I at first suspected. It was my mistake to grant you permission to enter the monastery in the first place.

You will ask: why did I do so, Ohthere? I did so because I knew the transition from your distinguished earthly life to the contemplative would be difficult, and that you might draw comfort from the nearness of a familiar face. Who better, I thought at the time, than Ohthere’s dear childhood friend Eulalia to stand by him? I am ashamed of my naivete. Your current situation may be blamed on my foolish decision to put you together.

This is not to say that you, or Eulalia, for that matter, have found it easy to refrain from acting on your natural impulses, and are therefore blameless yourselves. I know your young minds well enough in this respect.

First hand, I have witnessed her affection for you. Even as a child, Eulalia was conspicuously devoted to you, the strong, vital little guest in her uncle’s court. As I told her of your safe arrival in Frisia, and passed your message on to her, she fairly cried with joy, and eagerly entreated me for further news of you. Yesterday she was even so giddy and foolish as to request permission for a pilgrimage to Rome by way of Dorestad. This I flatly denied. I have been a fool. Everything is so obvious to me now.

Do you not remember your good father’s wish to see you become a man of the cloth? He was a wealthy, powerful man, and a brave warrior. Despite his Viking blood, he was devoted to his patron king, and he won his reputation with mighty deeds. I know that he was deeply honoured to fight beside his sons, especially once you had all proved yourselves so formidable. But where is he now, Ohthere? His body fell in battle, and is but dust, like those of your three brothers. He realised, too late for him, I fear, that only faith in God endures.

Your father is with the shining cohorts of the angels now, Ohthere, and he is proud of you for manfully renouncing the glories of this world. You must continue to serve him as you did when he lived. Serve him by remembering your oaths.

Eulalia is in much the same position. She entered the abbey, as you remember, to avoid the marriage her father had planned for her. She made her choice, and took her vows. They may not be broken.

And so, my friend, it is with the saddest heart that I deny you permission to return to England. I command you, as your lord bishop, to stay on the continent indefinitely. You are banished from this country. I do not trust your love for Eulalia, nor hers for you. Do not forget that your king and I are currently pressing for favours from our Mercian overlord to ease the burdens on the whole of the East Saxon people. We must court Sigeheard, for his influence in Mercia is potentially of great benefit to future negotiations. If you are in England, you will enrage him further, and he has already threatened to withdraw his support if he hears of your presence on this island. It is therefore my will that you must not return.

I am speaking harshly. But the world is full of harsh things, and sometimes we are forced to choose between them. Our lives are never our own property as much as we would like. Do not be concerned for Eulalia’s safety. Sigeheard will not threaten her if you are absent from England.

Since you are banished from this land for the time being, I now order you to make yourself useful and undertake a mission to the heathens on the Continent. You have my full material and spiritual support. I have cleared the matter with Archbishop Bregowine, and enclosed the necessary letters of commendation. You also have the limitless spiritual comfort of your brothers and sisters at Barking, who miss you and are praying for you constantly.

I have sent you twelve chests, and twenty good mules and horses. It is well known here that Frisian horses are not as strong as ours, so king Sigeric has insisted that you have some of his own. The chests contain the following items: Ten woollen cassocks, a supply of candles, thirty woollen blankets, two gold chalices, four silver bowls, four stoles and two altar cloths.

In the small bronze casket, which the letter bearer will present you with, you will find a purse containing fifty shillings. Use them as you see fit, my warrior for Christ. They are given to you with much love from my own store. The bronze casket also contains an exquisite jet-stone ornament, a wolf carved in the Northumbrian style; a gift from none other than Eulalia. She has asked me to say the wolf is brave, like you. I think it might be useful in winning the support of German chiefs, or trading for supplies for the brethren. I must say, the carving is a triumph of the art. The wolf ‘s eyes seem to follow one around. It is nearly one hundred years old. Archbishop Bregowine has personally blessed it, so that it may do God’s work for you.

I have also spoken with some West Saxon brothers who attended missions in Germany many years ago, and some of your old fighting companions here in Essex. Upon their counsel I have arranged the appropriate quantities of weapons for your escorts. You have fifty spears and shields, all according to their specifications. The spear shafts are ash, and the tips are variously designed for stabbing and slashing. The shields are made from lime wood, which your companions assure me you will find comforting. I could only manage a dozen swords, for they are expensive. The sword with the cross on the hilt was made especially for you. Sigeric’s smith Dunnere has christened it with a name, Angel Wrath, which I am told the sword-makers of this country sometimes do when they are particularly proud of one they have created. There is only one helmet, as they are even more expensive than the swords. King Sigeric himself has donated it to the mission. It is very old, made in the style of our king’s pagan forebears. But you will see that the wolf on the crest has been recently engraved with the inscription “I am Christ the Light”. Wear it with his best wishes.

I have personally blessed all of the weapons, Ohthere, knowing that you would not use them except to defend your honourable lives. Be careful. It is well known even here that the German forests are dark and endless. You may remember the words of Tacitus the Roman, who wrote of Germany one hundred years after the birth of Our Lord. He spoke of strange creatures called the Oxiones and Hellusii, who have human faces but animal bodies and limbs. Whether this is true or not, I do not know, but I am certainly under the impression from the West Saxon missionaries that the woods are full of peril nonetheless.

You must write to me, your lord and patron, as often as you can with news of your progress. I am an unhappy man for having commanded you to stay away. But I have spoken, and my decision is final.

Farewell in Christ,

Ecgwulf