Historical setting: 589 C.E. when Brittany was forest
Snow fell silently all night and now it heaps across the entrance to this cave so morning light is just a dim glow through the snow. Guldilyn is calling, “Ezra.” I hear people right outside this cave looking for me. They aren’t even aware this cave is here. I didn’t really mean to hide from them but now I am.
My long night here in sweet darkness was the holy blessing I needed for prayers and to listen back to dreams and thoughts all to knit together as my clarity of mind. I need to journey on alone now, but I also need direction to that place they saw the Irish father.
Now I hear a rumor that I had been washed away in the river last night as I was on my way to the women’s cave with my fleece. Guildilyn knows I can swim, but she allows them to assume I drown. She probably believes I ran away and left no trace. Among the voices there seems a sense of loss, but it is like a possession lost, like the loss felt when a slave has runaway. It’s not grief. They mean to get an early start and decide not to waste any more time with this.
It’s been a while since I’ve heard any voices, so I push the snow away and venture down the rocks to the abandoned campsite.
Not only do they leave me behind, they also leave an unkempt campsite. The fire can still be rekindled and here in the icy water I find fresh fish still on a line with a fine iron hook. So now I have fish and a hook and a line. I know this story, when the plan the followers had to fast with grief is interrupted by a feast of fish. [John 21] Thank you God.
A whole tribe moving through fresh snow makes no secret of the travel direction. It will be easy to follow their tracks but I plan to let one day elapse between us. They seem to be moving away from the river we followed yesterday. And since they hadn’t climbed over the rocks by the river when they went on their way no one knew of the cave I found. Tomorrow I will follow them.
(Continues tomorrow)
Lazarus Ink 