Historical Setting, 629 C.E. near Trier
A long sleep. Now, in the dark of this morning the vintner’s widow serves boiled oats and honey. A few minutes with a blade and a washbasin and now my hair and beard are normal length again, though Brandell clearly owns this look now.
I have asked this chatty vintner’s widow about the peace negotiations Brandell and Gaia instigated with the wine growers on both sides of the river. She assured me, my version of pacifism continues to be foolish even though she has become more favorable to peacemaking in general. Apparently, Brandell’s way of peace is much more appealing, since he considers a plan where each side will get something from it, besides the usual benefits of peace: life continuing and good neighbors and God’s blessings – and not having everyone dead and all the land burned.
She explains it, “Since the Jews have no vineyards over there yet, and because they plan to plant them, in order to make peace here they must plant only Frankish grapes, so the wine they make won’t be foreign wine no matter how it gets blessed.” She goes on with the theology of it, “They still want to bless it Jewish even though they were baptized at Trier. Then while their vines are not yet producing, those of the Jews who know the ways of grapes and wines will help restore our vineyards on this side. That is a plan that has something for us in it. So maybe it is good plan, we’ll see.”
Brandell readies the horses, and at sunrise we start out for home. I find I‘ve hardly recovered strength enough for a long ride, but at least I have sense enough to know it will be a long ride. Brandell helps me onto Gaia’s horse which is well accustomed to following after Brandell’s. And he puts Gaia on his own horse. Sometimes they ride two together, and sometimes he just walks both horses. It is a slow ride. We stop often wherever the brook runs pure, so the most stress of this day is the wonderful anticipation of home.
With the sunset, there is nothing from the beautiful heavens for warmth. I’m still wrapped in Brandell’s cloak, so we are all shivering. Now a bright moon rises early, and we are in our own familiar forests. We’ve turned to follow the creek we know so well. We are just continuing on regardless of the darkness until we are home.
(Continues Tuesday, March 19)
Lazarus Ink 