The First Book of Samuel, SAREJESS [ebook voice reader TXT] 📗

the necessities of life. The result was the country was now dangerous as roving bands of ex monks had turned into bandits, robbing and stealing to survive. A number of them had been caught and hung.

On this fine morning Samuel sat fishing and listening to the talk of upcoming weddings, who had died and who’s milking cow had run dry. There was a lot of talk of witchcraft and naturally the talk turned to who could possibly be the witch who had turned the cow dry. Samuel listened and began to realize that no matter how much the people believed themselves to be Christian they had a lot of superstition in their beliefs. Although the sign of the cross was forbidden, sometimes people could still be seen making the sign of the cross.

Samuel thought back to his first days in England. The greatest barrier was the language. He had learned English in the 12th century from a group of crusaders in Jerusalem but the language was archaic. The English now spoken was a more evolved language. He had however managed to pick up enough of it to be able to converse quite well after a few weeks. He had found himself in a coastal district with people who did not travel to the big cities, neither were they friendly to strangers, however be that as it may, Samuel was able to find a way to win over their friendship and confidence. By claiming to be a fisherman from Spain who had lost his way in a storm, later to be wrecked on the coast, this story was believable enough. Samuel could not imagine that these folk would believe the real story of his arrival in England. If he did tell them he knew he would find himself once more been burned at the stake as a witch or a lunatic; better to stick to the story of the shipwreck.

As the day progressed the boat began to fill with fish. It was a good day. A great number of sturgeon were caught at mid morning. The men stopped fishing and had a meal of salted fish and bread with liberal amounts of fresh water. The salt fish Samuel found made them drink copious amounts of water. He tended to stay away from the salted fish eating as little as possible. Once before he had been in a boat in the open sea without water and the thirst he knew could drive men to madness and murderous violence. Maybe life in England would not be as bad as he had at first thought. There was no inquisition here, although Jews had been cast out of England hundreds of years earlier. He knew if he did not arouse undue suspicion, he would not be suspected of been any thing other then a good Christian who had lost his way.

Samuel knew that in a land which was changing one had to tread carefully, if one was to make a living. “Yes” he thought to himself, “England could be good to him” and he in turn would masquerade as a good Christian.

At first the long fishing lines that the fisher folk used did some damage to Samuel’s hands. He was not used to this kind of work and he found it hard standing in the boat pulling the fish up from the depths of the dark water. It was back breaking work. The fisher folk noticing his difficulty helped him, teaching him how to bind his fingers with small bits of rag before using the line. The pain in his back was something he would have to live with until he got used to it.

On Sundays no one in the village worked. It was set aside for the worship of the deity and not wanting to stick out like a sore thumb, Samuel would join the rest of the village as they paid homage to the Savior. It was after one of these services when he was approached by one of the members of the parish. The young man seemed somehow familiar. William Longmont was the name he went under. He looked and seemed to be a man of no more then thirty years of age. “Good day Samuel good service today would you say” the man said. ”Yes William, as you say, a good service.”

”Shall we walk a little? It seems such a shame to stay indoors on such a fine day, even if it is the Sabbath” said William. “Yes a walk would be good” said Samuel. As they walked, they talked of the countryside and its beauty, like two villagers out for a stroll, and without a care in the world. However once they had passed the last hovel on the outskirts of the village a certain change took place in the demeanor of William Longmont. His face took on seriousness that no one in the village would have known in everyday life.

”Samuel Ferreira I know you well” said William “I have seen you a number of times through out these long years, almost always as an innkeeper. Now I find you in a fishing village on the coast of Cornwall. Why the change friend? For I must assume that you are a friend and that like myself, you are cursed to wander until judgment day. Why have you changed your way of living? Why a fisherman now?” asked William

Samuel looked with fear at this man who seemed to know the truth of his existence. What horror was this now brought upon him, who was this? Was it the devil come to torment him now in his quiet time of life? Samuel would have to be extremely careful with his words and judge his words well before he spoke them. Laughing nervously Samuel said “William thy jest is indeed a poor one! Come now, be hearty and stop thy presence.”

”I know you well Samuel. I have been watching you. I have known you both in Spain and in Israel and Egypt I have lived a hundred lives and died a hundred times for like you, I am cursed. I was a soldier who smote and mocked Jesus so long ago on the road to Golgotha and was cursed by his mother to wander till He returns on judgment day. I saw you burn in Spain and I did not envy you that death. I can tell you I have been drowned, I have had my head hacked off, I have died of hunger, but never have I been burned. Always I have been resurrected to live again, this cursed life of a soldier or a workman. Now when I find some solace who should come wandering into my life but another, who, like me is accursed. Tell me Samuel what did you do to be cursed to this long existence? Entertain me for I have lived so long that I have grown bored. Entertain me for an hour, but first let us find a secluded spot to rest and speak. For at any time a suspicious villager might come upon us and carry away tales of witchcraft for these are simple folk who are easily scared into religious fever. These are a people who see witches and wizards in their very ale.” said William.

Samuel followed his new found friend in silence into a thicket of trees. William seemed to know his way well around the area and it seemed to Samuel that he must have been in this district for some time, to know his way so well. Seating themselves under a great oak which had been planted two hundred years earlier William said “I am sorry to have given you cause to be alarmed but there is no easy way to talk on the incident of our continued long existence. I started life as the son of a minor Germanic chieftain and was soon drawn into the Roman legion. I have served in many places. I have seen kingdoms rise and fall. I had been in the legion a number of years before I was transferred to Palestine in about 26 AD. There I served in the old city of Jerusalem. On a certain day Jesus was brought before Pilate who judged him and had him put to death because of the Jews.”

“I had been drinking the previous night. It was always like that round the festival times. I am a solder and soldiers drink when there is pressure and in times of trouble so on that morning I was still drunk, having drank too much of the good wines. As Jesus was being led to the place of his execution, I noticed that the crowds were enjoying themselves, watching his agony. He had already been beaten and was limping badly. People were throwing stones and rotten eggs at him. When I saw him stumble, I approached and kicked him roughly, telling him to stand up and take it like a man. His mother who was following close by suddenly screamed out. ‘Curse you solder! doomed will you be to wander this earth until he whom you have smote returns to judge you’. So it was as the years passed I nether grew old nor perished like others around me. In about the year 50 AD, I decided to leave the Roman legion, as people were beginning to comment on my youthful appearance. At the age of fifty two I still looked and appeared to be a man of no older then twenty eight. But I do remember that on the day of the execution I had seen some one who stepped out from the crowd. It was a man of about forty, who had cleaned the face of Jesus.”

”Later in about 983 AD I again saw this man who was then an innkeeper in the old city of Alexander in Egypt. I happened to stop by an inn located in the old city one day and this man served me chilled wine. The wine was good after a hot day in the sun. It most probably was the best wine I had ever drunk. I remembered the man and the wine, though most probably if the wine had been of a poorer quality I would not have remembered the man, but in any event I remembered the man. At that time I was in service to the Moslems who had over run Egypt. Later in about 1125AD I happened to be fighting in Palestine under the Emir of Jerusalem who was defeated. I had stayed in the city once the slaughter had ended. I came out of hiding and watched the new masters of the city. How primitive and dirty they seemed, these Christians who had liberated the Holy Land as I was still under orders from the emir I watched a knight who frequented an inn run by a Jew. One day the innkeeper and the knight, a German left the city and went down to Bethlehem. A few others and I planned to attack them the following morning when they returned to Jerusalem. The night was clear the moon was up and there was a slight breeze blowing some one made a noise and alerted the Knight and the innkeeper, they attacked us and killed my companions. I was questioned and fought alone in a final battle with the knight. I died bravely.”

”That innkeeper was you. I am sure you remember the second incident, but not the first so imagine my surprise when a few months ago I saw the same innkeeper burned at the stake in Servilla. But when I once more met this same man in my home village in Cornwall, I was even more surprised.”

As the two immortals spoke