Disclaimer: God only knows what’s going on here, for the present author of this fairytale is mostly befuddled by what changes have taken place in the telling. You might say he’s almost completely in the dark. The good thing about starting with Augustine—below me somewhere—is that the gentle reader is thus assured of receiving some truth in the process. Having said that, thus with some fear and trepidation I pick up my stylus!
Chapter 13
“Third Time’s a Charm”
[As far as writing is concerned I have been moved from grade 1 to college, by Squarespace.. Overnight my website has transformed itself into a monster of complications. I am not pleased. However, my world is unfinished; Godric has opened the purple-coined casket; Raissa is either one of the Fates, the Norns, or someone surprisingly new. I thought at first she was the young one—what’s her name—I forget, and every time I leave this draft I have trouble finding it again. But I like her, Raissa. In any case, we shall now see where purple takes us. After all, third time’s a charm.]
Godric looked into the casket. This time he was alone. Though the casket had disappeared, he still held the purple coin in his hand. The sky was just beginning to show traces of light; the clouds in the east were streaked with varying shades of red and orange. The world around him was coming into focus in the gathering light. He saw that he was in a green valley with trees apparently standing at attention in the distance, as if waiting for something to commence. Snow covered mountains surrounded the lush valley.
Farther down the valley stood a quaint village. Godric decided to move towards it, to see if that was where he was meant to be in this new adventure. He waited for the voice in his head to say something, but all was silence. He looked around but saw nothing in the valley but the trees and the village. The closer he got the more it seemed as though the village was empty; there were no people evident. There was something ominous about an empty town. Godric wished he had his sword; still, he had the knife on his belt and a purple coin.
At the outskirts of the little town Godric paused, surveyed his situation. Though the street was empty, at the far end of the town, there were people clustered around something. The people were between him and whatever had the town peoples’ attention. He decided to investigate.
Walking through the center of the village, Godric saw that on either side of the cobblestone street there were shops with various kinds of goods displayed in their windows. “Bread for sale, fresh bread,” read the sign in the first shop he passed. Leather goods, apothecary needs, to cure whatever ails you, especially the heart. Godric moved past several shops; he began to hear voices coming from the crowd at the end of the village. They sounded urgent. There was also the sound of weeping intermingled with the voices. Godric glanced away from the shops toward the people and picked up his pace.
Out of the corner of his eye he saw a shop with swords and shields displayed in the window. He paused and turned toward the shop. A sword, he thought, might be useful here. He walked over to the plain wooden door of the shop and peered through the latticed window at head height. The shop was dark; he tried the handle, but the door was securely locked.
Godric sighed, turned again toward the small crowd of people at the edge of town. He moved toward them, hoping for the best, expecting the worst.
What he saw over the heads of the women and men before him was a young woman tied to a tall, fairly thick pole. The pole was set in what looked to Godric like concrete, as he saw when he worked his way through the people to the front of the crowd. People grumbled at him, the men tried to look threatening; Godric ignored them.
A tall man armed with a shining steel sword stood near the woman. He had, apparently, just finished securing her feet to the bottom of the pole. The woman had her head bent, and Godric saw that she had been crying. The woman looked somewhat familiar, a little like all the young women he had met on his journey here. She reminded him particularly of the woman who was to have been auctioned, though a much younger version. When she looked at him, he saw that her face was tear-stained but lovely. Like Adriel of the pool, she had long, golden auburn hair that framed her face. She had intense green eyes, soft red lips, and a smooth chin. Her cheeks were slightly tapered and unblemished.
Godric looked at the man with the sword and the women in the crowd. “Why have you tied her here?” he asked. “What has she done to be treated in such a cruel way?”
The man with the sword answered Godric. “Though it’s none of your business, stranger, she’s a witch and has been found guilty of bringing the plague to our village. Thus we offer her to the god of the mountain to free us from this curse.”
“She may be a witch of some sort, but I doubt that she brought any plague to your village. Free her and I will take her away with me, and your troubles will be over.”
“We can’t do that,” said the man. One of the women beside Godric spoke up. “She’s certainly evil and the god of the mountain is coming for her. If he’s not fed, he’ll destroy the village, consum it with fire and devour us.”
Of course he will, thought Godric. He said to the crowd, “It’s no god of anything who behaves in such a way! Has anyone ever seen him or stood up to him?”
“That would be blasphemy and disrespect; besides, he always comes in fire in the night, especially in the night of a full moon. And there’s a full moon tonight. The god of the mountain is a demon. He takes one young and nubile woman a year. This way we rid ourselves of a witch and appease him!” The crowd murmured its assent.
“II tell you what,” said Godric. “Give me a good sword, and I shall stay here with the woman and confront your demon.“
“Give you a sword,” said the only man holding one. “I don’t think so. Swords are pricy. This one is magical and has been in our family for generations.”
“What would you take for it? I have here a magical coin, a great treasure worth wealth untold. I’ll trade the magical coin for your magical sword. If I fail to survive the night and the demon kills me and the young lady, you can take back the sword in the morning.” Godric held up the bright purple coin in the sunlight. Rays of purple light shone from it, and the man’s eyes were filled with lust.
“I could just kill you and take the coin!” The crowd moved away from Godric, as the man took a step towards him. “You could try, or I could just bury my long sharp knife in your chest before you take another step; that way I could keep my valuable coin and have a sword too. Don’t you think the trade is a better option?”
The man unfastened the silver scabbard from his belt, slide the sword into it, handed it to Godric who gave him the coin. The man grinned, his dark eyes filled with greed. “I’ll get the sword in the morning fool, after the village demon destroys you.”
“We shall see,” said Godric. “You people sleep well tonight, and be sure to keep your doors locked tight.” Godric laughed as the man with the coin stalked off; the crowd melted away around him.
Remembering the curse on his own sword, Godric kept it contained in its scabbard; he used his knife to cut the ropes binding the girl to the sturdy pole. “You know you can leave when it gets dark. You don’t have to face the monster for me!” She said quietly, hesitantly.
“Oh, but I do,” said Godric. “What kind of person would I be if I left you here to face this thing alone? Especially after I said I would face it. Besides, this doesn’t seem like a good place to live. Now then, pretty witch, what’s your name? I’m Godric.”
“Raissa,” she said. “And thank you for helping me.” She used her long fingers to clean her eyes and face of the tears; they both sat down near the pole to wait for the night.
“Raissa?” said Godric. “Your name sounds familiar. Have we met before?”
“Perhaps,” she said. “Raissa is a common name in this part of the world. It means ‘thinker,’ though why anyone would name a baby girl that is beyond me.” She smiled at Godric.
“Perhaps they were working against stereotypes, eh? Or they were hopeful, at least for something better for you than just cooking, cleaning, and childbearing. Not that there’s anything wrong with those,” he quickly added.
The sun quickly sank behind the mountains to the west, casting long shadows throughout the enclosed valley; the darkness suddenly settled upon them, leaving them slightly chilled and apprehensive.
Raissa moved closer to Godric, who put his arm around her shoulder, letting her lean her head against him.
Image: sprites, defined by modern science; or they are supernatural demons about to descend on us? Okay, sprites this time! Maybe.
Chapter14 [one can only hope]
“The Devil You Know?”
‘[As usual St. Augustine gives us a fairly good idea of what might be coming in the night, if it’s what I think it is, this God of the Mountain. It looks as though one of those fallen angels has claimed a home on this mountain, wherever this mountain is, and is working evil, terrorizing people, and harming young women. It looks as though it is up to Godric to stop this evil and destroy it completely, thus saving himself and the young lady.
But first, check out what Augustine has to say about angels and demons: the fundamentals:
“Some of the angels sinned, however, and were thrust down to the lowest depths of this world, which serves as their prison, so to speak, until their coming final damnation on the day of judgment. The apostle Peter makes this crystal clear when he says that God did not spare the angels when they sinned but cast them into prisons of deep darkness and gave them over to be kept for punishment at the judgment. Who can doubt, then, that God separated these angels from the others, either in his foreknowledge or in his work of creation? And who would deny that there is good reason for the others to be called light? For even we who still live by faith and still hope for equality with them, but have not yet attained it, are already called light by the Apostle: For once you were darkness, he says, but now you are light in the Lord (Eph 5:8). As for the apostate angels, however, anyone who understands or believes that they are worse than faithless human beings sees right away that it is wholly fitting for them to be termed darkness.”
“we still hold that these two companies of angels are represented here—one enjoying God, the other swollen with pride; one to whom it is said, Praise him, all his angels (Ps 148:2), the other whose prince says, All these I will give you, if you fall down and worship me (Mt 4:9); one burning with holy love for God, the other smoldering with unclean love for its own exaltation. And since, as it is written, God opposes the proud, but gives grace to the humble (Jas 4:6; 1 Pet 5:5), the one dwells in the heaven of heavens, the other, cast down from above, swarms chaotically in this lower heaven of the air; the one is tranquil with luminous devotion, the other boils with dark desires; the one, at God’s command, brings merciful help or exacts just vengeance, the other, in its own arrogance, seethes with desire to vanquish and harm; the one serves God’s goodness in order to provide all the care it wants, the other is checked by God’s power in order to keep it from doing all the harm it wants; the former mocks the latter in that, against its will, the latter’s persecutions work to the former’s benefit, and the latter envies the former as the former gathers its pilgrims to itself. Here, then, are the two disparate and opposed companies of angels, the one both good by nature and righteous by will, the other good by nature but perverse by will.” The City of God: Book XI: 33.] Now, wasn’t that an exhilarating read? Hmm. Okay, back to the story!
Raissa had fallen asleep with her head on Godric’s shoulder. It looked as though Godric had fallen asleep too, but it turns out he was only resting his eyes. The full moon was brilliant above the valley, the only light visible. The houses and shops in the village were completely dark. Godric’s eyes flashed open when he heard the sound of a great commotion above him and fiery red streaks in the air. Looking toward the sky, he saw the monstrous shape of some dark winged predator briefly outlined against the moon.
Raissa awoke fo the terrifying sound of unfamiliar noises in the night. Godric was standing with the new sword shining in the moonlight. He reached toward her with his free hand and pulled her to her feet.
“What is it?” she asked. No sooner asked than a large, winged man-like thing landed on the grass about 15 paces from them. The creature was slightly taller than Godric and it appeared to be surveying the landscape. When it looked at the two persons confronting him, Godric couldn’t make out his facial features as the creature’s face was turned from the moonlight. When it folded its large leathery wings against its body, the wings disappeared smoothly into its back. Before them now stood a tall man-like thing wearing a metal breast piece and clothed in a tight leather shirt and pants much like Godric’s own outfit.
When the creature took a step toward them, Godric motioned Raissa to move behind him. The winged beast had a belt around his waist, and attached to the belt was a scabbard that held a sword. “Stay where you are,” said Godric, pointing his sword toward the creature. “There’s nothing for you here!”
“Nadiel “ said the creature. “Perhaps you have heard of me? In any case, let me have the woman I came for and we shall have no quarrel.”
“I don’t think so,” responded Godric. “She is under my protection, and so she remains.” The beast turned slightly and grinned at Godric. In the moonlight Godric saw that the demon had two sharp fangs that shone ivory in the night. The demon’s eyes were two dark cavities in the creature’s face. It’s ears were large and rose to a point on each side of his head. Suddenly a sword seemed to materialize in the demon’s claw-like hand. Godric swallowed and could feel sweat forming under his leather; nevertheless, he held his ground.
Nadiel was supernaturally quick; his movements like a flash in the night as he came around Godric’s right side. The demon’s sword cut Godric’s sword arm through his leather, but he neither dropped his sword nor backed down.
“Stop!” said Raissa from behind Godric. “I’ll go with this thing. You can’t fight him.”
Godric, his arm bleeding slightly, said, “Can and will. I’m not dead yet, and as long as I’m alive, he won’t take you anywhere.” That said Godric put both hands on the hilt of his sword, feigned left, rolled his sword around and over his head, nicking the demon’s arm. Nadiel jumped back in surprise. Godric took another step forward and swung again moving his opponent back another step.
The demon brought his own sword up to parry Godric’s next cutting blow. The clash of the two swords echoed through the night. The instant Godric’s sword hit the sword held against him, his sword ‘s blade burst into flame. The demon jumped back from Godric’s fiery sword and unfurled his wings which ripped from his back. The demon lifted into the air and tried to come at Godric from above. The flame on Godric’s sword had turned from reddish orange to intense blue and rippled up and down the blade.
When Nadiel descended upon him, Godric ducked but swung his sword at the bat-like wing closest to him, cutting it significantly . Nadiel screamed an eldritch cry in the night. He landed away from Godric who pressed toward him, breathing heavily now. “Leave, beast,” he said, or I’ll take your life as well as your wing.”
Nadiel tried to extend his damaged wing, but he could not. Frustrated, he raised his sword over his head and swung at Godric who easily ducked the blow, thrust upward with his glowing sword, cutting through leather and metal breastplate. Nadiel roared again, dropped his sword, clutching his abdomen; he sank to his knees, he glared fiercely at Godric and disappeared in a blue flash, leaving nothing but a pile of grey ash and black smoke.
Raissa rushed to his side and threw her arms around him, kissing him on the cheek. “Thank you,” she cried, “thank you.” Godric lifted her head up and kissed her forehead, sank to the ground and found himself sitting on his own blanket, alone in the moonlit night, his right arm bleeding from a fresh cut.