Historical Setting: 793 C.E. Mooring at The North Sea
It’s a sleepless night for every man under the worn, waxed sails and sheltered beneath these boats we’ve hauled up on the beach to keep them from the storm. The booms and crashes, cracks of thunder, flashing skies — it is hard to know if the roar is of wind or sea. Are these howls of men or wolves, or simply a loosened gust of wind swirling among the rocks? If these pagans have prayers, Thor isn’t listening.
I thought I would just wander out alone into the dawn. It is a crimson dawn today. I see other lone figures silhouettes at the edge of the water in the rising light. I see I’m not the only one sleepless, here.
My prayer can best be said sitting on a rock that seems forever established regardless of the wash of the sea. Dear God, do you notice these men’s brutal nature? Treasure is base in their earthly perceptions, made only of goods priced for trade. Yet for that they die and kill, with apparently no value for life or love. The rumors I hear are unsettling. Rumors are that these Norsemen are preparing to attack an island of monks unaccustomed to battle. I don’t suppose you let human whimsy shape your part in a battle among people, but I beg you to consider at least, warning those monks. Thank you. Amen.
As I sit here and gaze across the waters toward the west, where water spouts are rising up, and dancing on the surface of the sea – signs of something – maybe it is fearsome waters. Do the monks on an island, said to be unprotected by soldiers, see these same signs? And who is reading the signs: the roaring winds; the thunder with lightning flashes with yet no rain? So many omens filling the skies and now these mindless fingers of wind over the waters, pointing to the whirlpools, dropping from the storm clouds swishing the surface of a placid sea. With awe we all watch these warning signs and no one knows the meaning of it.
Thank you, God, for signs. Now guide our understanding.
Gunnar finds me here on this rock, shouting me back from my contemplation.
“They are calling the red shirts to hear the instructions, while the Norsemen practice for war.”
(Continues tomorrow)
Lazarus Ink 