Large-Hearted Boy. Part Six.

The rest of the journey to Cald Mere was uneventful, though Selden worried that night would fall before they reached the village. He would much prefer being indoors that night ... and among people of his own kind.

It disturbed him that he could only make sense of the strangers’ simplest emotions. The gift seemed to work that way. Relations between the two peoples was tense, based on a history of misdeeds, mistrust, and open warfare. Only commerce brought them together now. Some of the more adventurous priests reached out to the strangers, even lived among them. They brought back curious stories and argued that the strangers shared beliefs that one might call religion. Selden didn’t doubt it.

Just at twilight, Selden and his companion spotted the first signs of Cald Mere. Selden blessed the children and their mothers who stared at them over fences or from the dark shadows of doorways. The menfolk would be coming soon from the fields or, more likely, the public house. They’d shared their old gossip and tired jokes.

When they reached the church, Selden dismounted with a groan. He was terribly tired and would enjoy having his day’s portion of ale. The day was far from hot, but a man–any man–built up a thirst from travel.

The village priest wasn’t anywhere to be found, though a candle was burning in the church. In the cities, candles always burned. They represented a kind of welcome and the certainty that God was present there. In the country, priests couldn’t afford to burn up all their beeswax. They had little for themselves and most wouldn’t burden the faithful more than need be.

“I’ll pray, Geoffrey. Will that be all right?”

The priest’s companion nearly smiled. “And why this unexpected courtesy?” he wanted to ask, but Geoffrey knew well enough not question anything the master said or did. Selden’s question meant: Watch the horse and donkey, boy. I’ll be a moment. Don’t wander.