Original Story - The Priest and the Soldier

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The man pushed back the hood of his rough, brown robe and the light breeze teased the wisps of grey hair on his balding head. His smile widened, deepening the lines around his eyes as he revelled in nature’s serenade of birdsong emanating from the hedgerow.

His steady progress down the dusty lane stirred up small puffs of dirt, which covered his sandalled feet, causing him to occasionally pause to rid himself of grit caught between foot and sandal. But he much preferred this minor inconvenience when compared to dealing with the bog-like conditions of the same lane in the winter.

Straightening up after replacing his sandal yet again, he contemplated raising his hood to shield his head from the sun. But his destination, marked by fingers of smoke rising to the sky, was much nearer; besides, the birds were too enchanting, and he could catch glimpses of them as they darted in and out of the hedge.

Normally, his days were filled with tending to the spiritual needs of the people of Kelby, the large village he’d made his home when he’d finished his training, and he fulfilled that duty readily and with love. Yet, he also relished the times he could journey to the small neighbouring village at the end of the lane where lived the unlikely friend he had made in the preceding years.

Conversing with the wise woman Wilona was a breath of fresh air as they debated the many similarities between their faiths despite the different ways their peoples worshipped. Even as a young priest-in-training of the nation that had conquered this land, he’d already been aware of those similarities which he continued to find greatly intriguing.

Stepping off the path into the village, he slowed his pace on hearing a strident voice cut through the uncommon silence. Then quickened it again before coming to a halt at the sight that greeted him.

A handful of soldiers, holding the reins of their horses, stood around women, some quietly weeping, holding small children against their skirts, and men clearly angry but silent.

Moving closer, the priest’s eyes widened. On the ground by the soldier with the harsh voice was an older woman, her white hair coming loose from her usually neat bun, her grey and green clothing besmirched with dust and dirt.

“You, the village elder,” said the soldier, his tone sharp, “expect me to believe you know nothing of what this woman was practising. Don’t think me easily deceived. I know what her kind are truly about, always pretending to know their place, hiding behind a veil of quiet simplicity.”

“Mother Wilona has lived with us for longer than many can remember,” said the village elder. “Why do you accuse–?”

“My men are missing, and you have their horses.”

“I already told you, we found the horses, managed to capture them. We were preparing to take them to Kelby.”

“A likely story. You found the horses yet where are my men? You claim to know nothing of their whereabouts.”

“There are men looking for them as we speak. But what has any of this to do with Mother Wilona?”

“Her kind practice all manner of… unspeakable things.”

“That is a lie,” said the elder as he took a step forward only to be struck across the face by the soldier. Stumbling, he fell.

“Leave him,” said Wilona over the rising noise of crying children and protesting men.

The soldier drew his hand back to strike Wilona.

“Enough.” The priest strode towards the soldier, his commanding voice causing the latter to pause.

Scowling, the soldier turned then raised his brows in evident surprise. “A priest? What is your business here?”

Ignoring him, the priest went down on one knee beside Wilona, who managed a reassuring nod. He got to his feet then supported her as she got to hers. “I am Father Taldon from Kelby. I visit here often. What is your name?”

Standing with arms akimbo, the soldier glared at Taldon for long moments before replying. “Elrad.”

“Why are you persecuting these people?”

“I was on patrol with my men, we camped yesternight in the open. For a time, there was lightning but no storm.”

“Yes,” said Taldon, “a most remarkable sight.”

Elrad snorted then continued. “An unnatural sight. Come morning, two of my men and their horses were missing. These villagers have the horses, one is lame, but of my men, there’s no sign.”

“We have told you,” said Wilona, “those who’d gone to the river found the horses and–”

“Shut your mouth, woman, I have no interest in your words.”

Taldon frowned. “Not even when she is explaining how they came by the horses?”

Elrad raised his clenched fist. “She serves the old ways, I can tell. Living alone, no husband, no family. It’s not right. She’s done something to my men, I know it.”

Shaking his head, Taldon replied, “You accuse her with no proof other than your prejudices.”

“Do not think to stand in my way, priest, or have you forgotten who you serve? You do the duty of our Lord Gorrell, as do I.”

“Lord Gorrell may rule this region, but he is not my lord, I serve one higher than him. I have known Mother Wilona for many years, and she is a good friend. That she practices the ways of her ancestors, as do many of this land, is not forbidden. And I assure you, she does not and has never dabbled in anything that goes against the laws of nature.”

Stepping closer to Taldon, Elrad narrowed his eyes, a sneer twisting his mouth. “You have known her for many years,” he said, his tone suggestive. “How well, I wonder?”

Feeling Wilona stiffen next to him, Taldon maintained his steady gaze and steady stance. “I will pray for you, Elrad, but I will caution you also; evil to him who thinks evil. Despite your refusal to hear, I wish to know more of what happened. Wilona?” He turned his gaze to the wise woman.

As tall as the priest, she directed her words to him, confirming what he’d heard earlier about the villagers finding the horses.

“And I heard correctly, there are men looking for the riders as we speak?” said Taldon, and she nodded. His attention back on Elrad, Taldon continued, “Is that not what you should be doing?”

Before Elrad could reply, there was a distant shout, and all turned in that direction.

“The men,” said the elder, “they’ve returned.”

A young man came running into view, waving. “We’ve found them. We need help bringing them in, they’re injured.”

Dusting herself down, Wilona stood before Elrad. “Perhaps compassion and tolerance, no matter how small, may not go amiss in your future dealings.” Calling to one of the women to fetch her bag from her cottage, the wise woman quickened her pace, joining some villagers and soldiers as they ran towards the newcomer.

Taldon knew he shouldn’t but couldn’t stop himself relishing the sight of the squirming Elrad. “Mayhap the time has come to quell your… superstitious nature. In all your years, have you never experienced lightning with no rain?” he finished with a chuckle.

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That’s the last story for now, and from next week, it’ll be back to book reviews and whatever catches my fancy.