Shadow in the Dark
Page 17
Sister Regina’s gentle laugh at Lucy’s joke sounded a lot like Mother. She too had been kind and loving, humming songs at night while he went to sleep. Father had especially loved those songs.
But Xan—Stephen—would never hear either of their dear voices again now, thanks to Sire Roger and Rummy and the leader of that evil group of bandits, Carlo.
The abbot trudged in front of them into the confinement building, a cane in one hand and a monk’s supporting arm in the other. Each step caused a grunt of pain from the injured monk.
“Now you watch and listen, child,” the abbot said, turning toward him. “Listen with your whole heart and soul. This may bring you healing; help you see the value in every human life.”
But how could watching the abbot speak to that evil man bring healing? The only place he wanted to see Carlo was at the end of the hangman’s noose, if they allowed boys to watch.
Hopefully Lord Godfrey and the royal courts would take care of that soon enough.
Brother Andrew had insisted that they walk together behind the abbot and watch the old monk speak to the man who had attacked him and almost killed him.
Carlo apparently had been talking freely to Lord Godfrey’s guards, who now kept watch over the captured bandits in the abbey’s confinement cells. According to Brother Andrew, the bandit had been without remorse for his crimes. Indeed, the only sorrow he seemed to feel was for the injury to his shoulder, inflicted by Godfrey’s men when they’d transported him to the cell.
He’d told the guards all they’d wanted to know, seeing no reason to hide the truth. He’d confessed that he had been hired by Sire Roger to cause havoc in the countryside. That had been no problem for him and his bandits. Not only were they permitted to take whatever they found, but the bailiff had paid them handsomely for their services.
He’d attacked Hardonbury. Then he’d assailed Penwood and the abbey. When that hadn’t satisfied Sire Roger, Carlo had disguised himself in the robe of a monk to inflict a beating on the stubborn old abbot so the abbey would have no choice but to seek Lord Godfrey’s protection.
Yet Sire Roger now rotted in Lord Godfrey’s dungeon, and Carlo was caged like an animal, while the abbot walked free and the abbey was given undisputed ownership of Penwood Manor. God truly could bring good out of evil, just as Sister Regina had said.
The abbey’s confinement area was tiny and dank, with three rooms, each containing a jail cell. The other two captured bandits had been separated from Carlo and kept in different cells.
As the abbot entered the room that held Carlo, Brother Andrew put his hand out. “Stay with me here, my son,” he said. “We can see and hear all that we need without getting too close.”
Once, back in Hardonbury, Father had stopped him from going into the shed because of a serpent. “Stay here, Stephen,” Father had said. “Do not get too close to that perilous creature.”
Carlo was like a serpent, too—a poisonous one.
A guard met the monk at the doorway. “You are walking again already, abbot?”
The abbot began a chuckle that ended in a cough. “I just thank God to be alive, friend.” He plodded toward the cell that contained Carlo, then sat in a small chair there. He made the Sign of the Cross with his thick, muscular hands.
Carlo seemed provoked by the mere presence of the holy monk. “Why come here to torment me, old man? I suppose you want to gloat.”
“You are the one who attacked me?” the abbot asked, his weak voice barely a whisper.
The bandit smiled thinly. “They told you about me, eh?”
The abbot said nothing as he watched Carlo, but the bandit couldn’t bear his gaze for long. He soon turned his eyes to the ground, which was a good thing—the villain didn’t deserve to look into the face of a good man like the abbot.
“Do not worry, Abbot. I shall be hanged for my crimes. You soon will be satisfied.”
The abbot shook his head. “There will be no satisfaction in your death.”
Perhaps the abbot wouldn’t be happy when the bandit was executed, but others would. The entire village of Hardonbury would probably line up and take turns walking all over his grave.
Carlo laughed aloud. “Come now, old man. We both know you will spit on my tomb.”
“Nay. Indeed, I have spoken to Lord Godfrey on your behalf. You will not be executed.”
“What?”
The abbot must be jesting. How could he intervene on behalf of a vile man who had wanted to kill him, who had burned the abbey, who had even murdered women and children?! Mother and Father were in their graves because of him.
“God gave you life,” the abbot said. “Only God shall take it from you.”
Carlo seemed dazed. “But the penalty for my crimes is death. Others will demand it.”
“They shall respect my wishes. You will not be executed,” the abbot repeated.
Brother Andrew’s face had stayed expressionless through this part of the conversation. Had he known what the abbot had done? Surely he couldn’t approve of this, allowing a killer to live.
“I will not be hung?” Carlo muttered to himself. Then he grinned, as though he’d figured out the true motive behind the abbot’s actions. “I see, old man. You wish me to suffer in a dungeon the rest of my days. That would be a fate worse than death, eh?”
“Nay, that is not what I desire. I wish to forgive you for your sin against me.”
The abbot reached his hand through the bars, as if to touch Carlo’s shoulder. That seemed dangerous. A man like Carlo, with nothing to lose, might grab his arm and break it to pieces.
But Carlo didn’t grab the abbot’s arm. Instead, he stepped back and turned his head away. “I did not ask for your forgiveness. Nor do I need it.”
The abbot waited. “Perhaps so,” he said finally. “But I need to forgive you. Our Lord forgave those who crucified him, and He has forgiven my own selfish sins. So now I forgive you.”
Carlo remained silent.
Why would God want to forgive someone who had done so much evil? Carlo was exactly the kind of person who deserved to be punished forever, wasn’t he? In Hardonbury, there used to live a bullying boy named Thomas, who’d punched Xan in the mouth once for no good reason. When Thomas’s parents found out, they’d beat him with a plank twenty times. Surely all the crimes Carlo had committed deserved much more punishment and much less forgiveness.
When Carlo spoke next, his voice sounded sad. “There is no forgiveness for me. Go away.”
The abbot regarded Carlo for a long moment, as though examining his soul through the bandit’s black eyes. Whatever he saw, he didn’t talk about it.
“As you wish,” the abbot said, rising feebly from the chair.
That whole conversation had been odd. If Brother Leo had been here, he would probably have pointed his stubby finger in the bandit’s face and doomed him to hell.
“Come,” Brother Andrew said, tugging at his tunic sleeve.
But as the abbot reached the doorway, the bandit stirred.
“Wait!” Carlo called. His proud head was hung low; his defiant posture had vanished; the angry fire in his eyes had faded. He looked beaten on the inside.
The abbot gave a nod to the bandit and shuffled back over to the bars of his cell.
“I was not always as you see me now,” Carlo said in a softer tone. “I took up the cross and fought in Bernard’s Crusade when I was a young man—a dreamer—journeying back to England after visiting relatives in Sicily. As I traveled through France, I heard Bernard of Clairvaux preaching his crusade. I was much taken by him, so I followed.”
Just like Lord Godfrey’s father and Sire Roger’s father, Carlo too had been a crusader. Carlo must have felt like a real devil when he’d heard Lord Godfrey’s men shouting out the crusader’s war cry as he was about to kill an innocent boy.
The abbot again reached through the bars. “’Tis not too late for you.”
This time, Carlo didn’t pull back. “What must I do?”
&nbs
p; “Be sorry for your sins, confess them, and receive God’s forgiveness,” the abbot said. “Then go and sin no more.”
Carlo remained still, his chin dropped to his chest.
“I am a priest,” the abbot said. “I will hear you in Confession, if you wish. With that sacrament will come healing.”
Brother Andrew pulled him to the front door. “We must go now, my son,” he said firmly, leaving no room for discussion. In a moment, they were blinking back in the sunlight.
“The abbot is going to forgive him, Brother?” he said. “Give him Confession? You mean, Carlo might get into Heaven one day, even after all the evil he’s done?”
Brother Andrew shrugged. “’Tis a mystery, son. The abbot is a holy man, and our Lord wants us to forgive. All of us have sinned and deserve eternal death, yet He came to offer us life.”
Xan stepped away from the monk. “He killed my parents. How can anyone forgive him for that? ’Tis impossible.”
Brother Andrew put a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “With God, all things are possible. Pray, son. Pray and let God heal you. Give it time, and you will see.”
He shook his head. “That villain doesn’t deserve forgiveness. Not now.”
Maybe not ever.
Epilogue
He stood with Brother Andrew over his parents’ graves. The names “Nicholas” and “Helen” were carved on the wooden crosses, but their faces would survive only in his memories.
The monk made the Sign of the Cross. “May perpetual light shine upon these dear souls.”
His parents were gone forever now. He’d solved the mystery of their deaths, but now he remembered how much he missed their lives. A warm wetness raced down his cheeks.
Maybe it was all right to mourn. So much evil had befallen him and his family and his village and this abbey. And Brother Andrew had said that mourning would bring healing, perhaps even forgiveness for those vile bandits one day.
His tears slowed and then stopped. Brother Andrew embraced him warmly. “You will have a home with us for as long as you desire it—Stephen.”
Saint Stephen had been a man of faith, but he’d been martyred. Maybe Stephen must become a martyr again. Indeed, maybe Stephen’s life was over.
“I’m sorry, Brother,” he said. “Stephen’s life can’t be saved.”
The monk seemed startled. “Nay, son. God still has a purpose for your life.”
He shook his head. “You misunderstand, Brother. Remember how you said your real name, Robert, died the day you took your vows? Well, Stephen died the day I came to this abbey.”
The name of Stephen would be forever buried in those graves with Mother and Father.
Brother Andrew’s blue eye regained its glimmer. “I see. Well then, let’s go home—Xan.”
A smile formed on the edges of the boy’s lips. Maybe he had found his home. And his identity.
I am Xan.
Author’s Historical Note
Although the characters and events in Shadow in the Dark are fictional, the novel takes place in a historical place and time. The story is set in medieval England in A.D. 1184, during the final years of the reign of King Henry II (1153–1189). Xan, the main character, is a peasant boy growing up in a remote part of the country.
Kings, Manors, and Serfs
More than a century before Xan was born—in 1066—his nation had gone through a revolutionary transformation when William the Conqueror crossed the English Channel and invaded England from Normandy, an area of Northern France populated by descendants of the Vikings (“the Northmen” or “Normans”).
After the Conquest, King William constructed many castles and cathedrals in England and gave large estates and manor houses to wealthy Normans who were loyal to him. When Shadow in the Dark took place, English society was still a feudal system, also called “the manorial system.” Most of European society was set up this way during the Middle Ages.
In this system, people such as Xan’s parents were peasant “serfs” who lived and worked on the land of a manor. They were at the bottom rung of the English social ladder. All the lands still belonged to the king, who was lord over all English lands, but the king redistributed ownership to his loyalists, who were called land barons. These land barons further divided their lands into manors. In charge of the manors were lesser landlords and knights, all of whom had to serve the king when duty called. Peasants like Xan and his family were allowed to live on manor lands as long as they paid rent and provided labor for their landlords.
Abbeys, Monks, Novices, and Lay Brothers
The injured Xan ended up at Harwood Abbey, a Benedictine monastery. Monks of this religious order lived according to the Rule of Saint Benedict, which organized a life of prayer and work. The abbey was ruled by an abbot; next in charge was the prior. Many of the men at an abbey would be monks who had already taken vows and belonged to the Benedictine order. But there would be novices also, who were training to be monks and still deciding if this was the right life for them. A man might become a novice as an adult, but often the novices were young, just teenagers. Men who worked at the abbey but who were not monks were called lay brothers, and there were also servants who helped with the work. Benedictine monks were sometimes called “black monks” because they wore simple black robes.
Harwood Abbey of Shadow in the Dark has a monastery of Benedictine monks and also, a short distance away, a convent of Benedictine nuns. The monks and nuns at Harwood Abbey spend most of their time praying, working, and copying manuscripts. Benedictine monks and nuns (and the Church itself) played a major role in preserving written works of the ancient Greeks and Romans, along with the Sacred Scriptures (the Bible). As Xan becomes accustomed to the abbey, he gets a taste of life in a medieval monastery. He sees that the abbey and convent each have one person in charge—the abbot or abbess—along with their assistants, such as priors and obedientiaries. Xan sees the monks gathering to pray in the abbey church seven times throughout the day and night. He participates in some of their meetings in the chapter house, where they conduct abbey business. He learns about writing and works with the ink and goat parchment used to copy manuscripts.
Children in Medieval Times
In some ways, children during the Middle Ages were like children of any period. Their parents loved and cared for them, they enjoyed toys and games, they were taught to help around the home, and they liked making friends with other children. In other ways, medieval children had quite a different life from many children today. Only children from wealthy families could expect a school education. And once they reached puberty—ages 12 to 14—they were considered adults. Peasant children helped with household work or in the fields; some moved away to work as servants on other estates. Boys from wealthy families might be sent away to be trained as knights, and the girls would receive the kind of training to prepare them to be proper ladies with their own households. They tended to get married much earlier than we do today, often during their early teens, which meant that they became parents early, too.
The Middle Ages happened centuries before societies thought much about equality. No one expected to work their way up to a better place on the social ladder. The peasant knew that he had little power and that the rich man whose estate he worked on had a lot of power—this was simply the way things were.
Also, men had a more prominent role in society than women. Even a girl whose parents were wealthy did not have many choices about her own life. Her father could choose her husband, and then her husband’s decisions would rule their household. A girl’s options were quite limited, whether she was rich or poor. She might marry and have a family—or she might join a religious order and dedicate her life to God’s service. In Xan’s story, his friend Lucy is not a peasant, as Xan is; her father is a minor nobleman, which means that Lucy has some advantages and opportunities. Yet, at her young age she is considering becoming a nun. For her time, it is not unusual for a girl such as Lucy to consider the religious life before she’s even a teenager.
Glossary
abbey Another term for monastery, where monks and priests live in community
abbot The superior of an abbey
Bernard of Clairvaux French abbot (1090–1153) who became well known for his mystical writings. He became a saint and was named a Doctor of the Church.
chain mail A type of armor made of metal links
chapter house A building attached to a monastery or a cathedral in which meetings are held and business addressed
compline Part of the Liturgy of the Hours, the public prayer of the Church to praise God and sanctify the day. Also known as Night Prayer, compline is the final prayer of the day, said before bedtime.
Crusades A series of medieval military campaigns between Christians and Muslims for control of sites in the Holy Land
granges Another term for farmlands
infirmary A place where sick or injured people receive treatment and care
land baron A nobleman who was given a title and land in exchange for pledging allegiance to the king
lettered Formally educated
mace A heavy club with metal spikes used in the Middle Ages
Moors The term used in medieval times to refer to Muslims who lived in what is now Spain, Portugal, and North Africa. In the Crusades, the Christians and the Moors fought for control of the Holy Land.
narthex The lobby area leading into a medieval cathedral
nocturns The term for the three division in Matins, the prayer said during the night in the Liturgy of the Hours