Historical setting: 563 C.E., on the western shore of Gaul
The pig on the spit looks familiar. Is this creature one-in-the-same as was choosing a rotted rutabaga instead of chomping into my nice and meaty man-foot just last month? [post #9.1] I think I’ll pass on the pork. Maybe it was my ancient Jewish upbringing but I’m not much for pork anyway. This is an abundant feast with fruits and cheese and bread. No one will leave hungry. So like the roasting boar himself, I bite into an apple. Our host notices.
“Hey, Nikolis, what’s the matter with your young friend? Why doesn’t he stuff his jowls with the best meat of the forest?” Buff sounds jesting at first, but then he becomes accusatory to me. “So you come to a pig roast and don’t eat the pig? What are you a Jew?”
I answer, “There’s such plenty. This is truly a fine feast!”
Nic spits on the ground then answers, “Maybe my friend is just too polite to take something he will only spit out on the ground. Your pig is a burnt crust of tough hide, if you ask me.”
As with any polite party of soldiers the swords were left by the entrance but no one has abandoned his dagger. After all, knives are the necessary utensil at a pigfest. Nic already has his blade in hand dripping with bacon grease. With a flick of his wrist toward his host, Nic seems ready for a challenge.
Buff taunts, “Oh yes! That’s it. This boy Laz of yours is a Jew!” Nic is seething in the stance of a wild bear up on two legs starring at the prey dancing the death circle around the man. Buff has his knife drawn now also, and continues his racial taunts at me, but directed toward Nic.
“Yes! Lazarus is The Jew! Look at all his black locks hiding his horns, no doubt. Look at him! He has those dark eyes and a goat face! He’s a Jew!”
Before I can even think of a way to explain that I am a Christian now, or “you know, Jesus was a Jew,” or “what’s wrong with being a Jew?” Nic’s face his a river flowing red, dripping down onto Buff, who is on the ground now with Nic’s dagger at his throat. Nic won the brawl. Buff pleads for mercy. Others around us are closing in a tighter circle with blades drawn.
“Let’s go Nic. Let’s mend your face while you still have strength for healing.”