 
# Dawn on Lake Tiberias and Other Stories

# Published at Smashwords by William Dean Hamilton

# Copyright 2013 William Dean Hamilton

#

# Table of Contents

Dawn on Lake Tiberias

Gaol House Rock

Telemachus

Immortal Stars

The 12

The Dying monk

Wolf of Gubbio

Epworth

The Ship

95 theses

Fleeing England and the King

Meeting with the king

Bibliography

About the author

Connect to William Dean Hamilton

# Dawn on Lake Tiberias

Si walked down from his house onto the beach by the Lake Tiberias. Shadows that Si knew were mountains hid behind streams of mist on the far shore. Si sweated from the heat of a hot day near the end of the summer so he hesitated for a moment behind the shade of a grove of palm trees. He knew he was lucky to be able to do most of his work at night when the air would be cooler. The air smelled like only large bodies of water could, unbelievable freshness mixed with that old fish stench.

Si's partner Andy was wearing his brown work uniform, a dull-looking-robe-like thing and he wore his dark brown hair short, except around his ears. He was working on the drag nets, huge nets that needed repairs a lot because they got caught on the rocks at the bottom of the lake.

Si said, "Andy how's it going? Are the nets OK?"

Andy looked up, "Oh, hi Si. I think they're fine, I just wanted to have a final look since we have a few minutes."

Si said, "Good. I have a feeling we're going to have a great day today, the weather is perfect for fishing."

Andy said, "I think you're right."

Si looked at their boat, a thirty-foot long wooden craft that looked like a large rowboat with a sail in the middle. It was moored along a pier that was fifty feet long; on the other side of the pier was another boat of about the same description that belonged to their partners.

"Help me get these back into the boat." Andy said and pointed to nets, they pulled them into the boat.

A voice called out behind them, "Hey you two, you're gonna make us look bad, getting to work so early."

Si turned to see the two brothers, John and Jim, who were in charge of the other boat. They were large men, who wore brown work uniforms like they all did, but John always had a wild glint in his eye, and his hair wasn't kept as neatly as the rest. Si said, "Hi guys, once the sun has set, we're going to be ready, how about you?"

John spread his hands and made a gesture to indicate his might, "Don't be worrying about us, it's the help that seem scarce."

Si looked around, there wasn't a sign of the four hired men they needed to help with the boats, and he saw only the rows of small, clay houses that were in the village. He hoped the men wouldn't be late, this was the sort of night that you could catch a lot of fish, and you had to make money when you could. But then he saw them, all of them coming together. He hoped this didn't mean that they had been in a tavern together; he needed every man on his best wits. He said, "Here they come now."

John said, "Good, me and Jim can't be doin' all the work, can we?"

Si looked at the men; none of them looked drunk, which was a good thing. They all wore similar gray work robes and all had beards of different lengths. They were laughing at a joke he couldn't hear, all of them smiling. Good, he thought, they will all be in a good mood tonight, that make the work easier, maybe enjoyable. Two of the men, Tim and Jake, broke off from the other two and headed towards Si, the other two went with John and Jim to their boat.

Tim said, "Hi boss. I think the weather's good for tonight."

Si said, "Yes, I do think your right." And the three walked along the dock to the boat and to Andy, who was inside with the nets. Si could smell the fish much more here; it smelled like money to him. He asked "Are we ready to go Andy?"

Andy looked up, "Yes we are, I'm all set and the boat looks fine."

Si said, "By the time we get set up it will be dark I think." He undid the rope from the pier and the boat swayed under his feet, but he had done this so often he didn't notice anymore. He picked up an oar and pushed at the dock, forcing the boat backwards. He looked to the west and saw the light had begun to redden; the mist still covered the distant peaks. The waves made soft swishing noises as they crashed into the boat and tipped it back and forth, sea gulls glided on currents of air, and other boats crept over the light blue sea. This was Si's favorite part of the day, it was why he had put the boat out a little but early, but the idea of fishing at night was so that the fish couldn't see the nets and would get caught up in them. It would take a while to meet up with the other boat, and it wouldn't be quite dark when they had. Andy never complained about setting off early, Si thought that was because he felt the same way.

They rowed out but John's boat was still moored at the dock about a thousand feet away. A fish jumped out of the water a few feet from the boat and Si smiled, that fish will be in my net soon, he thought. He saw John throw the rope and push his boat out to water. It will only be a few moments now.

Other fishermen, the type who threw small nets rather than using dragnets were rowing back to the shore. Si's crew had tried it and had the equipment on their boats, but the dragnet was the best way to make a good catch. But it was kind of fun to do sometimes, and the dragnet was very hard work. The red in the sky darkened and the heat of the day seemed to lessen, unless it's my imagination, Si thought.

John yelled, "Daydreaming again Si?"

Si jumped a little and said, "John, there you are, finally?" And then threw him the rope that was on the end of the net.

John said, "Good throw, which is unusual for you." John smiled and turned to his crew, "OK boys, let's pull back."

The boats separated and the net flopped out into the water, Si was helping the net out to prevent snags, until all 800 feet drifted out in the water. Si tied his end to the boat. While they were getting ready Andy had lit a signal fire. Si signaled once by opening a door on the side of the fire to show that he was ready. John signaled twice, the signal that he wasn't; he would want to wait until it was darker. Dark blue had overtaken half of the sky, but John wouldn't want to start until all the light blue was gone. One by one the stars came and when their display was complete John signaled once; the dragging was to begin.

Si said, "OK guys, it's time to start rowing." Then he picked up his own oar and they started to row to shore. To start each stroke Si said, "Stroke." The boat moved slowly to shore, with each stroke they could feel the drag of the immense net, but something felt wrong. As they got closer to shore usually the drag would get worse as fish were caught in the net. No time to think about it now, Si thought, they had to keep the boat going or the fish they had caught in the net would escape. They were much closer to shore now, and Si shouted, "Turn." The crew only oared on the side away from the other boat, the boat turned towards the other one. It was too dark to tell if John's boat was doing the same, but Si was sure it was.

After a few minutes Si shouted, "Halt." And the crew stopped rowing. The boats came together with a thud. Si thought, Not exactly textbook, but it was OK. The crews of both boats pulled on the nets as quickly as they could to prevent fish from escaping, but as they pulled they saw no fish.

John screamed, "What, no fish. And you guys kept up with us for once. I don't understand it."

Si said, "It should have been a huge catch, I don't understand it either."

John said, "I could tell that there were less fish than usual because of the drag, but I never imagined no fish."

Si said, "Alright, we've got a lot of night left, let's get to another place on the lake and start again, the question is where?"

John said, "That's the part I hate the most, I think it makes the most sense to go to the other side of the lake, but that will take a long time, we'll miss one pass, if not two."

Si said, "Yeah, but maybe we can drag on our way over there, it will be a challenge to keep the pace up."

John said, "Yeah, but we should reel the nets in around in the middle of the lake, maybe we will get lucky and catch some fish that avoided our first net."

Si said, "Might as well, it's a plan then."

The pair told the other fishermen what they had decided and they set off.

Morning

The dawn would have been magnificent, if Si had looked, but his arms felt tired, his hopes ground down to dust. The eight-man crew had toiled like slaves in the hot night and not captured one fish.

Si said, "Alright men, we'll go back now, I know you're tired, and we haven't caught anything, so every fifty feet or so stop and take a rest and if I see any fish Andy and I will throw the net out."

And they rowed, and Si looked. Rowed. Looked. Si was beginning to think that this lake big enough to be known as a sea didn't have any fish left in it, but then, when they were only about a hundred feet from shore a fish glimmered under the waves. Si and Andy threw the net and the fish was caught in it. They pulled at the net and were too excited over one little fish, but that didn't change how they felt. The fish thrashed, but was no real challenge for a professional fisherman to haul into the boat; it was about a third of the size of the usual fish they usually caught. They lifted the part of the net that held the fish out of the water and the fish slid through the holes in the net.

For a second Si felt like the raw wire that was his nerves had frayed through, but then he felt a weight on him and from the side of his eye he thought he saw something more wonderful than an angel, he turned and a man stood watching him from the shore, not an angel after all. Si asked, "Andy, is that the man that stayed at our house and helped mom out?"

Andy asked, "What man?"

Si pointed, "That man over there."

Andy said, "He looks familiar, but when did he stay at our house?"

Si said, "You know the guy that John told us about."

Andy was puzzled, "Who does John know that we don't, we work with him every day?"

Si said, "No, not that John, the one that's in prison."

Andy said, "Yeah, that was a bad deal, he never deserved that."

Si said, "I guess it doesn't matter, let's just get back to shore and wash and fix the nets and hope for a better tomorrow."

Andy said, "We'll get 'em tomorrow. Hey look some people have come to hear your friend, if I wasn't so tired I would listen to him."

Si said, "Yeah, I think I would too, especially because of how he helped mom."

They had only to row a few hundred feet more to arrive at the dock; once they did they unloaded the nets. Si laid the nets out on the beach; lilies and reeds had been caught in the nets and a few holes had been ripped in the night's work. Andy worked on patching the nets and Si cleaned them.

Down farther on the beach Zeb, John and Jim's father, was yelling at them, they were a long way down the beach so he could only hear the words, "fish," "money," and "idiot." A crowd was forming around Si's friend, while that happened Si was finished washing the nets and helped Andy repair them with the other two men.

They were almost done when the man came to Si and he said, "Simon, my rock, would you let me use your boat to teach the crowd?"

Si said, "Of course, teacher." He didn't feel like it, but knew he should. Si and Andy took him on the boat a few feet from shore so that he could teach without the crowd pressing on him. Si rested his eyes and sat on the boat.

After about a half an hour Si found himself being awaken by Andy, who whispered to him, "You really should be hearing this, this is a great teacher and master."

Si said, "I would Andy, but I'm so tired and hopeless from the night, I was so sure that this would be a good night that it makes me wonder if I'm living the life I was meant to."

Andy said, "Oh, don't be like that. It will be just fine."

A shadow fell on them as they talked and they turned to look, it was the teacher, he said, "Put out into the deep of the lake."

Si said, "Oh, um, all right."

And so Andy and Si rowed to the middle of the lake, the muscles in their arms and backs ached. The sun made the morning sticky and humid. Si saw that Zeb had the crew out casting nets to make up for the bad night's work.

The teacher said, "Simon, my rock, let down your nets."

Si said, "Master, we worked all night, and took nothing." Si looked at him and bowed his eyes down in shame. "But at your word I will let down the nets." Si grumbled to himself as he hastily threw the dragnets overboard, "What does a carpenter turned rabbi know about fishing?"

Then it felt like something hit the boat and Si fell down, he caught himself before his head hit the side of the boat. Then he looked up and saw the net it was being pulled into the water, it was making the boat almost capsize.

Si yelled, "John, get over here." Si thought, it must be a huge fish to do this, but there weren't any whales in the lake. Andy had been momentarily stunned as well, but the two grabbed a hold of the net and it stopped more of it from going overboard. They pulled and fish flopped onto the floor of the boat. They strained and the fish were now up to their knees, the other boat arrived and John, Jim and the other men pulled fish into their boat as well. There were so many fish Si's boat started sinking. Si and Andy threw fish overboard.

John's boat started to sink as well and Zeb yelled from the shore, "Don't you dare throw any fish overboard." But they did anyway.

When they had recovered the nets and threw enough fish overboard so that it wouldn't sink, Si threw himself to his knees and pointed at Jesus and said, "Jesus, depart from me; for I am a sinful man, O Lord."

And Jesus gently put Si's finger down and put his hand on his shoulders and said, "Fear not; for now you will catch men." Jesus turned to Andy and said, "You too Andrew."

Andrew dropped a fish he held, his mouth gaping.

So they rowed slowly with the overloaded boat to shore. Si said, "Everyone listen. We are now going to be following Jesus, help yourselves to our fish."

The crowd pushed them and young, old, and in between grabbed fish. They seemed to forget they were gathered to hear the words of Jesus and they carried the fishes back to their houses or to the market to sell them.

When the crowd dispersed Si saw John and Jim mending their nets while their father was sorting the fish and the two helpers salted the fishes in the boat to prepare them for market. Jesus walked over to John and Jim.

Zeb said, "Hey Jesus, you can come and work for me, you know being a prophet doesn't pay very well."

John stood, "I'm sorry about my father, he doesn't mean any disrespect."

Jesus said, "Sons of Zebedee, John and James, come follow me and become fishers of men."

Zeb said, "Everyone calls me Zeb, sonny."

Jim stood and looked at John, John nodded, Jim said, "We'll come with you." And they walked away, leaving Zeb and the other two crew members in the boat.

Zeb said, "You can't take my boys, who'll take care of me?"

Jesus said, "Your Father in Heaven."

Zeb thought for a moment, from anyone else this would have been a joke, but from Jesus it didn't seem like one. He said, "Take care of my boys Jesus."

Jesus nodded and they walked away.

Notes

Lake Tiberius is also known as the Sea of Galilee; I have tried to fill in the gaps on the Gospel accounts while being as true to the original narratives as possible. You probably noticed that I tried to trick the reader by using unfamiliar versions of the names; I think it creates a bigger impact, I'm sorry if you disagree. The John that was in prison was John the Baptist. The Gospels record that they dragged their nets that night and also threw them into the water, and I have tried to reconcile the two versions with my story. We won't know what really happened until the end of time.

#

# Gaol House Rock

Jeb Taylor was thrust into the jail (known at the time as gaol) by a guard. A beard twisted with gray mostly hid his slender face; he wore the clothes of a seaman, he smelled of vomit with an undertone of ale. They shoved Jeb into the stone-lined cell, and he stumbled into the pale, dirty floor, a bit of spit hanging from his mouth. The cool rock under felt nice and somehow soothing, but Jeb lifted his head in a weak attempt to turn and said, "Your mother should have taught you manners, I would have mentioned it to her..." He tried to push himself up, but couldn't quite get the job done. "When I saw her in the freak show last night, you stupid moron." The only evidence of the guard was the sound of boots on rock.

Someone said, "You shouldn't be so hard on him. You only fell because you were drunk."

The prisoner strained his head up to see a blur in his cell with him. A tall, plump man came into focus that was wearing a white jacket, trousers and a pull box hat, all of which were stamped with arrows to denote they were the property of the crown. The face in the middle took some time to become clear. The mustache was the first feature recognizable under a prominent nose and large mouth. Curly reddish-brown hair topped his head, but it was the sparkling eyes that grabbed his attention. Then an image in his mind matched the face he was looking at.

Jeb said, "You have some nerve telling me to go easy on the guards, I remember you. You had the foulest mouth in the county, and I bet you still do. I've sailed around the sea and must have heard swearing in ten languages and haven't heard anything like you. You used to be devoted to swearing like a lovesick poet is to his rhymes. I can't believe they stuck me with you. John Bunyon - that is your name."

John nodded his head in agreement, "Yes, I am chief among sinners. Thankfully sweet Jesus has ripped the old serpent from my mouth and has given me a tongue that speaks of his love, grace and liberty."

Jeb said. "Yeah, I've heard that from a few folks before and I never knew a hyena to change his laugh. Although, if you haven't changed at all, my ears would be bleeding by now." Jeb noticed that John was writing something at a desk when his entrance had interrupted him. "What are you writing there?"

John smiled, and said, "I had the most wonderful dream last night. It was like the whole of the Christian journey and I thought I would write it down. I think it might help people to understand how to walk with God."

Jeb said. "Are you in for being drunk? That's what I'm in for."

John said, "No. I am imprisoned for the preaching of the Gospel of God and his Son Jesus. I don't have a license to preach and I preach from the Bible not from the instruction of the King of England. They've offered to let me out if I promise not to preach anymore, but I'm not going to LIE about it after all."

Jeb said, "Are you sure you haven't had anything to drink tonight."

John said, with a smile on his face wider than ever, "No, I haven't had anything to drink in a long, long time. I know if you don't understand the promises of God it will be hard for you to realize what little importance pleasure in this life is. The real consequences are in the next. What matters is that you have a savior."

Jeb said, "I'm more worried about what my wife will think when she's found out that I'm here."

John said, "I can certainly understand the importance of your wife, but if some good comes out of your stay, then I hardly think she will be angry at you."

Jeb said, "What good could come out of it."

John said, "You can accept Jesus as your savior. If you did that, she would be grateful that you ended up here, wouldn't she?"

Jeb said, "Now you're talking nonsense."

John said, "But of course that's not the main reason you should. There is coming a judgment, fire and brimstone are coming. That was what me dream was about."

"What a strange dream this must have been, tell me about it." Jeb said, seeing an opportunity to change the subject.

John smiled, "There was a man named Christian, he found out that the town he lived in was to be destroyed by fire and brimstone so he tried to convince his wife and children to come with him away from the town, but they would not listen to him. Just as you aren't listening to me, you see, about the coming judgment."

Jeb said, "Hey, I'm listening."

John said, "OK, well they didn't believe him and wanted to stay in the town, so he left to find the gate that he had to go through to get to the Celestial City, which is of course Heaven. On his back there was a terrible burden which made the journey harder, but when he got to the gate, which was like the cross, the burden fell from his back and he was again as a free man. Along the way he found many others who had wrong ideas, or were proud or just plain wrong. They couldn't find the path, it wasn't easy to follow and the Devil came and attacked him, but as luck would have it he had on the amour of faith and the sword of the Gospel and was able to beat him back."

"Then he had to cross the valley of the shadow of death, it was a horrible place, and, as it is written, the path was very narrow and straight. Demons and dragons looked upon him, and his heart was faint, but for the faith he had. If he had fallen off of the narrow path, then he would have fallen into the bottomless pit with them. But after this a friend was found on the path named Faithful and this made the journey easier. The giant Despair locked them up in the dungeon and was going to kill them, but they were able to escape. Eventually they made it to the city, and they had to cross a deep moat, their faith kept them from drowning. But then they found their city with streets of pure gold, with the only just King, and were attended by angels."

Jeb scratched his head, "That is an interesting tale. I don't ever remember having a dream with so many parts to it."

John said, "And I have left out many details in my current telling. There are many people who they meet; each has an excuse for their not wanting to go to Heaven, or by not listening to the right way to get there."

Jeb said, "Yes you mentioned something about that."

John said, "You know by my former reputation that I had an awful tongue. A lady from town, who also I should mention wasn't a believer, was shocked by my ability to weave out a tapestry of lurid curses and blasphemies. This embarrassed me greatly, so before I was truly saved I started to get the want of religion after being ashamed of my own tongue, but afterwards I was still the wretch that I always was, just one that didn't swear."

Jeb said, "Still am improvement I think."

John said, "When I first was called I was playing the game called tip cat, I am sure you are familiar with it."

Jeb said, "It has been a long time since I have played. I seem to remember the cat was a piece of wood with sharpened ends, and you had to have another piece of wood to strike it."

John said, "You are right friend, and the object was to hit the cat as far as you could."

Jeb said, "What's wrong with the game?"

John said, "I have to explain that it was Sunday and that it is not considered right in my circles to play these games on the Sabbath. I heard a voice call out from Heaven, 'Wilt thou leave thy sins and go to Heaven or have thy sins and go to Hell?'"

Jeb said, "You must have been very frightened."

John said, "Most certainly indeed. I tried by all of my own effort to save myself. The only result was to be more certain of my own sinful ways."

Jeb said, "I am confused by this. Wasn't this the proper thing to do, it seems the right way to me?"

John said, "I overheard some ladies that were members of my church as they were mentioning that the way to salvation is to trust Jesus to do the work and the saving. This is very hard to do and against out natural inclinations, but I have found nothing more profitable."

Jeb said, "I can see that it has worked on your imagination as well. I think the story to be an agreeable one. I think it will get published if you can write it nearly as good as you can tell it."

John said, "Have I convinced you to forsake sin and put your trust in Jesus to heal your spiritual wounds?"

Jeb said, "I don't think I'm ready to give up the pubs yet. I am willing to listen to more. Tomorrow though, as I am quite spent tonight."

John said, "Certainly, you can come to my Sunday service."

Jeb said, "You have a Sunday service when they threw you in here for preaching?"

John said, "Well certainly. I'm already in prison, what else can they do to me?"

Jeb said, "I am astonished. I have thought that most preachers do so to gain riches, I am inclined to listen to you more closely than to most, seeing that you earnestly believe what you are teaching me."

John said, "Ah, but I do do it for the riches, the riches I will get in Heaven. What prize can a man put on seeing a friend there?"

Jeb said, "You are a rock of faith preacher."

John said, "No there is only one rock, Jesus is his name."

Notes

John Bunyon wrote Pilgrim's Progress, which was the second bestselling book, next only the Bible, during the last of the seventeen century. His conversion, previous swearing, and writing the book in gaol based on a dream are all recorded history. He did, despite being locked in prison, continue to preach, and was given every opportunity to leave gaol if he would promise not to preach anymore.

Ironically, the Church of England, who was responsible for his imprisonment, has now made him a saint and he was a lesser festival on Aug 30th. The man he was talking to was fictional, but if there were such a man, John Buynon would have tried to tell him the Gospel, it is sure.

# Telemachus

The old monk sat in the small uncomfortable chair in the priest's office. Candles lit the small office of the priest and shown light on the many books and scrolls on the shelves and desk. Despite the many shadows the candles produced, the room created the immediate impression of order and cleanliness. From the worn out look in the gray-speckled blue eyes, the chair provided no rest or comfort to the man. His skin had wrinkled like the bark of a tree that had seen too many winters.

The priest wore a simple outfit of black; a gold ring adorned his hand, and a golden cross hung by a golden chain around his neck. The priest said, "I understand that your plans have changed quite a bit since you came to Rome."

The monk said, "Yes, I came here to establish a rule for my order and have it approved by the Vatican." The dark brown robe that the monk wore showed signs of age; mended tears and thin patches indicated his proposed rule would emphasize poverty, and thus charity.

"Well then, "the priest said, "Tell me your story."

The Monk's Story

I have striven for many years to perfect the imitation of Christ through the establishment of rules in a monastic order, but here in Rome, when I was supposed to present my rule to be accepted, I have witnessed an example of perfection that cannot be obtained by any rule of man.

I am in charge of a small monastic community in Asia Minor, and, after many years of adjustments, I had put down on paper this rule. I wanted to travel here to have papal approval of the rule. I had received word that I could present it, so I made arrangements to come.

I thought it would be a good idea to have a traveling companion from one of my thirty-two fellow monks who lived in cells on the side of a mountain. The only real building in our community was a chapel where we held meetings, services, and prayers.

I have striven to lessen our temptations of the flesh by a strict discipline. The effect of this was that most of my fellow monks tended to be people of great religious conviction. The character of my fine monks make me afraid of the sin of pride, for there is the temptation to take credit for the good works of these men, when I know that it is the grace of God that moves them. I can only facilitate it with the limits of a mortal man.

You may be surprised when I tell you about the young monk I decided to take with me, Telemachus. He was a young man whose short dark brown hair framed even darker eyes. Despite the darkness of his eyes, there always shown in them a quick intelligence and a light mood. His large, wide nose matched his large, wide face that was a little darker than the sand on our mountain.

He talked as if he had great faith, but sometimes, to be honest with you, I doubted it. It wasn't like he was mean, or that anyone in the order disliked him, but he seemed to lack seriousness and self-discipline that was usual for the order. He disrupted our quiet contemplations and prayers. I don't think he did it on purpose; it was just how he was. He was rash, very rash. I guess that's why the trouble happened.

I thought bringing him to Rome would be good for him; he would be able to see all of the religious artifacts, wonderful buildings, and churches. I also thought he might use up some of his restlessness on the trip. We were both excited about the trip. Unlike me, he wore a smile upon his face larger than the promises we lived on.

After we said our goodbyes, we headed out to the road. Mist covered the mountains until it was burned away a little before we stopped to eat lunch. The trail was difficult to follow, not many people headed to our monastery, so when we could see the trail it was overgrown with weeds, but for the most part the trail was only in my memories. We saw a lot of rabbits and a few goats.

After a few days of walking I looked around to find a walking stick, I had aged since I had last made a long journey. Sometimes we forget that things change, or forget how long ago things were. It had been over twenty years since I had made the journey here from Rome, the road was not much different, but seemed three times as long.

On the second day early in the afternoon, we heard voices through the trees. We were in a heavily wooded area, not at the main Roman road yet. The road ahead of us curved so that our view of the road ahead was blocked. I was very cautious, the sounds were heard were hard to distinguish, but I thought that there might be robbers ahead, or some other violent commotion. Telemachus didn't hesitate; he ran forward, I ran behind him, yelling at him to slow down. He didn't listen, but we discovered a party of five bandits setting on a man and his wife. The bandits wore outfits of black, and their long unkempt beards and hair hung down. The man ware an oyster colored outfit with a blue cloak, his wife was outfitted with a simple blue dress, slightly lighter in shade than his cloak, with maroon trim. The man held his hands up in surrender, they both looked worried.

One of the robbers shouted at him, "Move along monk." He stood very tall, over six feet tall, his wild hair stopped on a bald spot on his head.

He came back to me, I was relieved because I thought he had come to his senses, but he grabbed my walking stick and thrashed the bandit who had spoken on the head. The bandit stood for a second, stunned at his bravery. The husband, who had been holding his hands up produced a dagger from under his cloak. The balding bandit stepped back, and the other robbers took it as a sign to run. He was confused by his companions' retreat, but he realized he was now outnumbered and ran.

The man and his wife were very thankful and offered us a reward. Telemachus was going to accept, but I refused a personal reward, but said if they wanted to give thanks it should be to God and not us. They then made a small contribution to our monastery. We continued on with them for three or four days, and then they said goodbye at a small village, really just a few organized sticks in the woods.

The traffic on the road became busier as we got to the Roman road. This road was constructed of metal, and the walking was mostly straight. One day when we were eating lunch a little boy of eight or nine came up to us. He wore an Arabian style robe and his shoes curled up at the end. His whole wardrobe appeared white, except on the bottom and sides of his shoes that were spotted with patches of dirt.

The boy said, "I haven't seen people like you before."

Telle answered, "We're monks. We don't have fancy clothes because we are Christians who devote ourselves to being closer to God rather than earning money."

The boy said, "But why haven't I seen anyone like you before?"

Telle said, "Well you see, what was your name?"

"Sereus."

Telle said, "Sereus, we burry ourselves in the ground on the side of a mountain and we don't pop out until spring."

Sereus said, "But people don't live in the ground."

I said, "He's kidding you son, we don't live under ground."

Telle said, "What do you call living in a cave?"

Sereus laughed.

Telle reached in his cloak and produced a piece of candy and gave it to the boy. I didn't even know he was carrying it. I don't know if it was the wild story or the candy, but the boy followed us for the next few days. Telle would tell him jokes and stories. Then Sereus' mother told us that she had bought him the shoes when they had been on a trip to Persia. He had talked about the shoes for days and they had broken down and bought them for him. Luckily his father was trading with the shopkeeper and they got a good price for them. You see, usually they would be the type of shoes a prince would wear, and despite being attractive they were not made for walking long distances.

Telemachus was used to patching his clothes and he repaired the shoes for him once. His father was very happy with Telle for being a friend to his son and patching his shoes, so he invited us to eat with them that night. His wife made us delicious meal the likes of which I hadn't enjoyed since taking my vows. We ate fish, breads, and pudding, it might not have been much to them, but it was a feast for both of us. We slept a little longer than usual the next morning because we were so full. When I woke I heard Telle yelling for Sereus.

This brought me out of a deep sleep, and I looked around for the boy. I saw his mother and she didn't appear worried, I asked her, "What is he yelling about?"

She said, "I don't know. I'm sure the boy is behind a bush taking care of his business, but when Telle didn't see him when he woke he assumed something was wrong. Sereus isn't the type of boy that would run off."

I looked back at Telle and he was heading down a ridge towards a lake. It did appear that there was a white form in the water. I wasn't sure if Sereus' mother was right not to be concerned. Telle jumped into the water, splashed, and yelled. He held up something white, but it wasn't the boy. It looked like it might have been his clothes, but I was too far away to tell. He dove down into the water, and about that time Sereus came back into camp from the other direction.

I yelled but he wouldn't listen. I said to Sereus, "I think you might have to go down there so that he can save you."

The boy laughed and after a few minutes Telle came back, his face flush. We walked faster that day and Sereus was left behind us, Telle was too embarrassed to face the family. In the rashness of the bandits, he was a hero, but now he appeared to be a cad. Honestly this was how his rash decisions usually made him look. But no one will remember him for that now.

The journey was almost over, and as we headed down to Rome the traffic got increasingly busier. We saw a legion of solders headed in the other direction. Their amour glittered in the sun and the bear banner was leading the troop. I was glad I wasn't a barbarian; even at a march they were organized and looked like they could fight.

We could see the tops of tall buildings over the hill in front of us. I asked Telle if he was exited, he smiled and didn't answer me. We walked through a valley with a hill on either side and we got our first proper view of the city. The walls surrounded the city and every thirty feet or so guard towers loomed above.

The gate stood open, and guards wearing breastplates with red capes looked through the carts in the line to get into town, and we were waved by them with no concern.

It seemed like the streets were filled with people, carts and horses. The stone buildings climbed up in neat vertical lines. After a few blocks an archway rose over the street covered with relieves of Caesars and their triumphs. There was so much noise, with all of that talking, singing, and the clank of hooves. The only thing I didn't care for was the smell. You could tell a few thousand people and animals had went to the bathroom within a few blocks despite the relatively good sewers. I grew up in the city and didn't notice it then, but all the time in my cell on the side of the mountain had made me appreciate fresh air. Perhaps our strict order had a few of the better pleasures in life after all.

We headed down the busiest street, people shouting from the sides at us to buy fish, clothing, and fruit. After of few blocks an enormous church that looked like a fortress that could hold off ten thousand barbarians came into view.

Some teenagers ran past us yelling about the gladiators that would be at the Coliseum that afternoon and Telle said, "I didn't realize they still did that. The cruelties that people will inflict on others for amusement is amazing. I don't understand those people. I don't know why they allow it in a Christian country."

I joked, "If you see the Emperor while we're in town you can ask him that." We headed into the church. I met with Brother Donavan and showed him my rule. While he was looking it over Telle asked if he could go out to find something to eat since we were going to be a while. I agreed since I was going to be busy for a long time. I knew he would be excited about seeing Rome, who wouldn't be? I was glad to be able to see her again after all this time.

I waited as Brother Donavan read my text, he asked me about specific points of the rule. I had everything planned out in my mind so it was easy for me to relate what I meant. I was responding to one of these questions when a clerk of some sort burst into the room.

He said, "A monk is causing a disturbance at the Coliseum and we think it might your companion."

My anger overtook me for a few seconds before I could respond. I went out with him and asked for details.

He said, "The monk went to the fights and because enraged, he tried to push his way down to the ring. That is when they sent for me."

I said, "I hope he's OK. He knows better that to do that." Luckily we weren't far from the Coliseum so it didn't take long to get there. We could hear the angry crowd yelling obscenities at him; I thought I could make out his voice, calling, "In the name of God stop this cruelty."

I saw a man wearing a white toga walk out of the exit and picked up a stone. I yelled, "What are you doing?" But he wouldn't answer me, and soon other men in togas came out to pick up stones. A soldier at the entrance held up his spear in from of me to prevent me from entering, he wasn't preventing the men from going into the Coliseum with stones. The solider was dressed above his probable rank to impress the crowds, he wore an iron breastplate and a red robe, and his eyes were on fire.

I yelled, "They're going to kill him, the soldier looked as if he wasn't going to let me pass, but then lowered his spear, but the fire in his eyes was still there. He was probably as mad as the rest of them that Telle interrupted the games.

I ran into the Coliseum and saw Telle there in the middle shouting, "In the name of God stop this." Blood ran down his side and a few rocks were scattered around him. He ducked and another rock grazed his head, a small patch of blood smeared his face. A rock hit him from behind, is looked like it pushed his shoulder out of place. I tried to grab rocks out of the hands of the people around me, but the Coliseum was too large for me to do very much good. When they stopped throwing the rocks I looked back and there he laid, a lake of blood surrounding his body, rocks that looked like islands sticking up from the blood.

I ran to the wall surrounding the arena but I wasn't sure how to get down, or how he had managed to. A soldier took me around to the gate at the bottom and I looked at him. He was certainly dead.

#

The priest considered the old monk's words, then he said, "Emperor Honorius has heard of the story and I think the gladiatorial games will be put to a stop. He wants to talk to you, but I think it is all but assured that they will end immediately. All gladiatorial events have been cancelled until he makes a final decision."

The old monk nodded, "It looks like Telemachus' last prayer was indeed answered, but at a horrible price."

Notes

I try and stick to the facts and add details that would be historically realistic to give the story a richer flavor, but in Telemachus' instance I have added much more to the story then I usually do. The only person mentioned in the ancient text was Telemachus himself and I have added all the events on to the trip to Rome. In the ancient text it says he was from Asia Minor and was a monk, but no other details are given about who he was. It seems likely that a man who would run into a gladiator's arena would be young and rash, but these are speculations. Also it is not specified what arena he disrupted, but it is assumed that the Coliseum would be the most likely place for it to have an effect on the whole empire. The date of the last gladiatorial fight is given as January 1 404 AD, so this is when it is assumed that he died.

# Immortal Stars

The French were marching towards Ignatius beyond the walls of the city, and he was ready for them. The young officer wished that this could be like the romantic books that had lifted his mood so many times when he was feeling lost and insignificant. Ignatius dreamed of dismounting an enemy officer with a lance, but he knew that modern warfare was no longer fought in that manner. Still, he longed to see the French army approaching the city, but all he could observe in the damp night air was an army of stars and the many bricks on the walls of the fortress.

The stars shone dimly, not bright enough to light your way, but eternally. And Polaris, the North Star, led voyagers along a true course when it could be seen, and it would be there long after Ignatius' bones were dust. The moon barely lit the city of Pamplona or the garrison which Ignatius defended. The moon would not reveal the enemy which was he was to fight tomorrow; they would have to remain faceless for a few hours more.

#

The day had brought French soldiers into the city, but Ignatius wasn't able to see them after all, the Spanish had to keep behind the walls to avoid cannon fire. The ground seemed to shake, bricks fell from the walls, and soldiers ran around. Cerrito, a soldier dressed in bright blue tunic with white sleeves and multi-colored pants, crouched up at the top of the wall, trying to find a target for his musket. Cerrito eyed beyond the wall, but came back down next to Ignatius.

Cerrito said, "The French are too far away for me to have any chance of hitting them. We do not stand a chance against those cannons."

Ignatius said, "Do not fear, I believe we should keep our honor, and perhaps we will be able to stand against the French."

Cerrito said, "I do not hold out hope as you do. I have been ordered by the captain to look at the enemy and report back to him if the situation was a hopeless as it seemed. He then ordered me to gather the officers into the captain's room, so be there in twenty minutes."

Ignatius said, "I will be there."

#

The meeting was held in a dirty gray-brown room forty feet wide by thirty. Officers sat around a large oak table, most wore armor and billowing hats. The arm coverings were of all different colors, some matching but some contrasting their hats. Two pike men stood guard by the door, their uniform was entirely red and fit loosely on them. Torches lit the room poorly, and black stains of soot marked the wall behind each.

The captain, whose full body armor glinted even in the poor light, stood and said, "Since we are not fortunate enough to have cannons, and since we cannot fight these dogs back, I think we should surrender immediately. I want your opinions."

Ignatius stood and said, "I think that we have to keep in mind our honor. We have to make a stand and not cower before our enemies. If we were to let them take our city without a fight then they will report back to all of France that Spain only has cowards in its army. We have to stay until the death."

The captain took a step back and asked, "Is this how you all feel?"

The officers shouted almost in unison, "No."

One of the older officers stood and said, "I can understand why the young man speaks as he does. In the mind of utopian youth honor must not give way to anything. But in the real world we have to make compromises. When I became a soldier I knew I might have to risk my life to be able to have a chance at taking an enemy life, but when I cannot have that encouragement I don't see the reason to risk it."

The captain nodded his head and asked, "Is this how you all feel?"

The officers shouted "Yes."

Ignatius said, "If you do not want to defend this fortress until your deaths I can understand that, but please listen to me. We should at least defend it until we can no longer. Then we can say that at least we have done something. It will bring us all of the honor that defeat can to an army. Perhaps if we defend it long enough reinforcements will arrive or the enemy will choose to fight us like men – face to face."

The officer was silent for a moment and then said, "I think you have made a better point now than you did earlier, we will stay until the walls start to fall and we can defend the fortress no longer."

Ignatius filed out with the other officers. He heard a few low grumbles from some of them, and none of them looked him in the eye.

#

Ignatius waited as the cannon balls rocked the walls of the garrison back and forth. His ears shrieked in pain with each bombardment. He knew that with each strike the wall became weaker along with his hope. He had thought perhaps reinforcements would come, or the enemy would think this an ignoble fight and challenge them to fight on closer quarters, but he was starting to think that this wouldn't happen. Ignatius thought, perhaps the other officers were right. But honor was worth something; didn't all of the old knights think so?

The sun shone down and the pounding continued. Ignatius' back started to ache. He tried to reposition himself, but it was more than a cramp, all of his muscles were wound tighter than a length of rope. Mortar turned into dust with each cannon ball, and it was like a thick fog in the air taking the color and life out of the world. Ignatius coughed and covered his mouth. It seemed like someone called to him, but with his coughing he couldn't make out what was being said. Ignatius held the coughing in for a few seconds.

Ignatius heard a man say, "Move, that section of the wall is about to give way."

Ignatius shuffled to his feet, the dust made the ground slippery, but he got a hold and started to move away when he heard a noise louder than any he had heard and then one of his legs was in absolute agony. He cried out and clawed through the bricks with his hands. Soldier's reached out for him and he was dragged away as consciousness faded from him.

#

Ignatius had undergone three surgeries in the previous month since he had been hit by the falling wall. His leg had been stretched to try and make it as long as his undamaged one. The pain was starting to subside, but he was nowhere near being able to walk. Ignatius was going to take a long time to heal fully.

The French had treated him respectfully and he was now in one of his family's castles not far from Pamplona. June's heat swelled outside and only a small window offered breeze. The stark white room held few pieces of furniture, only a small desk that Ignatius could write letters at when he felt better and a hard bed. A cross, a picture of the Virgin Mary, and a picture of Saint Peter adorned the walls.

A short, plump nun that had been acting as Ignatius' nurse came in and asked, "How are you feeling today?"

Ignatius said, "I am feeling better today sister, but I would like to read something to keep my mind off of my pain and this awful heat. Are there any books of knights errant I could read?"

The nun said, "No, I'm afraid that the only books we have here are a few religious texts."

Ignatius frowned, "I'm not sure that will take my mind off of my suffering like a good story, but I think it will be profitable to read something, so when you get a chance, could you bring one or two of them to me?"

The nun smiled and said, "Of course, I will bring them to you at once."

Ignatius lay back in his bed and wondered if there was a fair woman out there in the real world that he might save one day. She would be second in virtue only to the Virgin Mary. He wished he could ride his horse out in search for her, spearing goblins in the dark valleys that lay between them. Ignatius would then ride over the plains to a great tower where he would see a vision of loveliness in an upper window. She would drop a handkerchief and it would drift down, but before Ignatius would be able to take it, a dark figure would seize it. The knight would be wearing armor as black as his soul, and riding a matching horse. Ignatius would raise his glinting sword and bring it down on the scoundrel's head, freeing his noble woman. Ignatius had dreamed these medieval dreams over and over again.

#

Over the next few months he recovered and read a few of the nun's books. Medieval dreams still came to him during both night and day, but now he began to consider the weight of his immortal soul. Ignatius felt the presence of good and evil spirits around him, and one night he had a very different vision.

Ignatius lay in his bed one night unable to sleep. He felt a strong presence of love in the room with him and he looked up. An apparition appeared to him, whether it was real or a figment of his imagination it is not for me to say, but nothing was more real to Ignatius. A woman held a child in her arms, a golden glow radiated from her illuminating the room. Ignatius recognized the woman as Mother Mary and the child was the baby Jesus. The sins seemed to wash away from him and hope grew in the knowledge of the love of God. The holy pair was gone in a few seconds, but they would never be gone from his heart again.

#

The ideas that had been forming in Ignatius' head regarding his own salvation had taken a definite form and he was ready to be the best Christian that he could be. He would fight the heretics and any demons that Satan would sent his way. He had read that a true Christian was to either make a pilgrimage to Jerusalem or to physically mistreat his body in reparation for sins. Ignatius' plan was to do both.

His mule strode along the gently sloping road in the heat of summer, kicking up dust. Ignatius had met a moor (the Islamic invaders that still frequented Spain even after they had been deprived of their political power) and was in conversation with the man.

The moor rode a horse dappled in grey, while the man himself was dressed in flowing white robes and a turban. The moor said, "I can believe that the mother of Jesus was a virgin when conceived, but I don't see how she still could be a virgin after she gave birth to Jesus."

Ignatius said, "The Church plainly teaches that Mary was a virgin all of her life. It makes no difference when Jesus was born, she was still a virgin."

The moor said, "Well my friend, I can see that we won't come to an agreement on this subject. We are still where we were when we started. I will wish you a fair journey."

Ignatius said, "But if you would just listen to me..." But it was to no avail the moor had ridden off. Ignatius thought about the insult to the Virgin Mary, and the more he thought about it the madder he got. Then he remembered a year ago when he had stayed at an inn and a fellow there had said that he had killed a moor for making a blasphemous comment. Ignatius thought would I be right to kill the man for his words? Ignatius looked ahead and spied a fork in the road, one that the moor had told him about when giving directions. The moor told him to turn at the fork, but he himself had taken the other way. Ignatius decided that he would let the mule choose. If the mule took the path to the village, then he would go there and spare the life of the moor, but if the mule followed him then he would kill him.

Ignatius dropped the reins and let the mule go where he wanted. The mule plodded straight ahead which happened to spare the life of the moor. Ignatius prayed, thanking God for the sign. Over the next hill he spied a huge rock almost as large as a mountain. It rose sharply out of the gentle slopes of the plains, the far side surrounded by a river. The monastery that Ignatius planned to go to sat halfway up the rock.

He rode up the steep trail around bends and curves until he came to a flat place up on the rock. The monastery lay on the level place, a picture of the Virgin Mary adorned its walls in which she was sunburned from her flight to Egypt. The monastery was one humble story of gray stone. Ignatius could see far away into the plains surrounding the rock. The smell of pine hung in the air, it was going to be a great day.

Ignatius found an aged monk within the walls whose blue eyes sat above a short nose. He told the monk, "I have been a sinner all for all of my life and now I want to confess everything to you. But first I want to make sure I have not forgotten anything so I need a place to write my confession down.

The monk nodded and led Ignatius down poorly lit corridors to a sparse room with barely space to write or breathe. The monk asked, "Is this satisfactory? I see from your dress that you are a gentleman and I know you are probably used to better accommodations, but this is all humble monks can provide."

Ignatius said, "I have enjoyed many rich things in my life, but I am forsaking them from now on and devoting myself to Christ and his work. I will no longer be a soldier for the King, but for the Church. These accommodations then are more than satisfactory."

The monk left, and Ignatius started to write. He wanted to be complete in his list and so it took him three days to complete it.

At the end of the three days he sent for the monk, who listened to his confession.

When the confession made and the penance preformed, Ignatius said, "I have realized that I have been motivated many times by desires of the flesh, so I am taking a vow of chastity. I have also been motivated by ambition and worldly honor, so I dedicate myself to a life of poverty."

The monk said, "These are noble ideas, but they are hard to accomplish. I wish you the best in your obtainment of them."

Ignatius said, "I want the monastery to have all of my worldly possessions. I rode a mule here and that is yours, I have some coins in my purse, and they are for the poor sinners. I only want a pilgrim's dress of sackcloth, a staff, and a gourd. You can sell my fancy clothes to support the monastery."

The old monk smiled and said, "I am glad to receive your gifts, but I do want to make sure that there is no doubt in your mind. You can't come back in a month expecting your possessions back."

Ignatius said, "I am aware of that, I appreciate your concern. I am prepared to do everything for God from now on. I have no doubts."

With that they went from the confessional back to Ignatius' room and he handed over all of his possessions, except for his dagger and sword.

The monk said, "Thank you Ignatius Loyola."

Ignatius bowed his head in reverent humility, and then left the room. He passed by monks in the dark corridors on his way to the back of the monastery to the church there. The stained glass windows were dark in the night; pictures of saints and the Virgin were barely distinguishable. Monk sang sweet songs that echoed off of the stone walls. Torches were hung on the outer walls, but not much light was kept for the vigil. Pilgrims, monks and priests melted together in the shadows.

Ignatius knelt in front of the altar and whispered, "I am going to now be a soldier for Christ." He then lay down his sword and dagger on the altar.

#

Ignatius walked on a road that was well worn with horse and carriage tracks. The forest around the road was populated thinly with trees whose scent hung in the air. A mother and daughter walked alongside of him. They were both dressed in shabby clothes with torn spots that had been mended. The daughter, who was about ten, wore no shoes on her dirty feet.

Sally, who was the mother, said, "Oh Ignatius, I wish we had some food to sustain us. I haven't had anything to eat since we got off of the ship."

Ignatius said, "I am sorry, if I had any food I would gladly share with you."

Sally said, "I am going to my relatives who will help since my husband has been killed."

Ignatius said, "I am so sorry to hear about your husband, but he is with the Lord now."

Sally said, "I wish I could be sure of that."

Ignatius said, "You should have faith. The whole purpose of my journey is to show that I have faith in God above all else. I begged for the food for the journey, since the shipmaster refused to take me without food, but any extra coins I had I left on the beach."

Sally said, "I wish you would have kept them. We could buy something to eat then. My daughter is very hungry."

Ignatius said, "Have faith. If I did have those coins then where would we obtain provisions? When we get to a town we can beg for food."

Sally said, "I don't think that we will happen upon a town before dark, the sun is setting now."

Ignatius said, "God will provide for us, you'll see."

Sally asked, "Where are you going?"

Ignatius said, "I am taking a pilgrimage to Jerusalem by way of Rome."

Sally shouted, "You were right, God did provide for us." She pointed to a white farmhouse trimmed in black. Behind the farmhouse stood a barn of bright red.

Ignatius went to the door and knocked.

A tall man answered the door, a baggy nightcap rested on his head. The hair that stuck out from his hat looked like straw sticking out of a scarecrow. The man asked, "What do you want?"

Ignatius bowed his head in humility, "We are humble travelers sir, and I do ask that you might provide us with some lodgings for the night. If you are so inclined I would ask for some food as well."

The man frowned and asked, "Is that your wife?"

Ignatius said, "No sir, we just happen to be traveling the same way."

The man said, "I will tell you what I can do for you. It is only right that I let the women stay inside, but you will have to sleep in the barn. I have already had my supper, but I might be able to find a few scraps to eat in the morning for you."

Ignatius smiled and said, "Thank you sir, thank you. God bless you sir."

The women went inside and Ignatius headed for the barn.

#

Saints echoed in Ignatius' dreams. Benign presences imparted glory on him, but then he felt an earthly voice beaconing him back to lucidity. His eyes slowly opened to see the darkness of the barn; he smelled the unpleasant odor of animal waste; he felt straw poke at his head and back. Ignatius was content with these things, but then he heard a small sound. Somehow he thought it was urgent, so he roused himself to full consciousness and sat up. It might be a scream for help. He walked through the darkness to the barn door and pried it open. The darkness was less pronounced outside, and the voice he had heard was more distinct.

He heard a shout of "Rape, rape."

Ignatius ran to the door of the house and tried the doorknob, it wouldn't open.

He shouted, "Shall we submit to this?" and pounded his fists on the door. Inside the woman was shouting for help and her daughter was crying. Ignatius found a rock and was about to break the window when he heard a mechanical noise at the door, the woman ran outside, part of her dress was torn. The daughter fled the house as well and then the man appeared; his face was flush with excitement.

Ignatius said, "You foul beast. I have only this rock and my fists to defend this woman's honor with, but it shall be enough. I used to be a soldier and I know how to fight."

The man shielded himself with the door, and when the women fled away from the house, Ignatius thought he should stay with them. Ignatius looked behind them after they had ran a few hundred feet and there was no sign that the man followed them. Walking was rough in the dark, and a few times Ignatius stumbled over an unseen obstacle. After an hour they spied a town. Ignatius went to the city gates, but they were locked for the night. Ignatius knocked, but no one answered. A church sat on the side of the town and they walked over to it. The doors of the church opened when Ignatius tried them so they went inside.

Ignatius called, "Hello." The words only echoed in the stone building. He could make almost nothing in the darkness except for a few pews before an altar. They each found a pew and rested until the morning.

#

Light came into the church and Ignatius awoke. His head ached as well as his stomach. He sat up and spied the woman in the pew next to him. He shook her awake and then stood up. He looked around the old church. The altar had accumulated dust over years of neglect, a few of the pews had been broken and some of the stained glass was missing. A giant cobweb ran from a statue of Jesus to the rail around where the priest spoke.

The woman said, "You should have let me sleep for a while longer, with that horrible man yesterday and our flight here I didn't get much sleep at all."

Ignatius said, "You will not miss sleep when the morning has passed. I have deprived myself of it often enough. It is time for us to obtain some food.

The woman frowned, but woke her child and followed him out in to the morning light. The sun seemed unusually bright, the town door still closed. Ignatius walked over to the door and knocked on it.

A voice answered from beyond the door, "Who are you and what do you want here?"

Ignatius said, "I am a poor pilgrim, and two women are with me. We would like to enter the town to procure food."

The voice said, "That is not possible, there is a plague that has been ravishing the countryside and we are not going to let anyone enter who is not from the town. Be gone with you."

Ignatius turned to the woman and said, "I guess we aren't going to eat here."

The woman and her daughter walked on. Ignatius followed them. After a mile or so, Ignatius felt so weak that he could not go on.

The woman asked, "Ignatius, what is wrong with you?"

Ignatius replied, "I am too weak from hunger to go on. I am amazed that you are able to."

The woman turned and said, "Before the man last night turned... repulsive, he gave me and my daughter a bit of food. Perhaps he thought I was bought that easily."

Ignatius said, "Go on, you have to find food for your child."

The woman said, "Thank you. I hope you will be alright."

Ignatius said, "God will provide my dear companion."

And so she left and the hunger pains attacked Ignatius and there he lay for half a day. The heat attacked his senses when the hunger abated, and then his thirst overtook him.

Then a carriage came down the road and a lady saw him by the road. She left her carriage and knelt by him. She wore a richly colored peach dress, she said, "Are you alright, you look ready to pass on to judgment."

Ignatius said, "I knew God would provide for me."

#

Ignatius walked by the canals of Venice, the water smelled slightly salty and foul. Ignatius looked at the marble columns and intricate carvings on the buildings that surrounded him, but he hardly noticed anything the richness of their details. To him it was one more step towards Jerusalem, nothing more.

A man richly dressed in bright green and ocher walked by. He struck the pavement with his cane, but with such vigor that it was apparent he didn't need it to walk.

Ignatius stopped the man and said, "Kind sir, I am a pilgrim on my way to Jerusalem. I would like to have some alms for food."

The man said, "Gong to Jerusalem, are you mad? The Turks are threatening to kill anyone who enters. I too would like to go to the sacred city, but I am afraid that no man will sail there. Come you can rest at my house tonight."

Ignatius said, "God bless you for your concern and generosity, but if only a plank were to make it across the sea, then I would ride upon it."

#

Ignatius watched the sea churn at the back of the boat; it whirled and swished before it crashed up in a fine spray of mist. His stomach felt as if it were turning even faster and more violently. His head felt like an over-inflated balloon. He wretched off of the back of the boat, his stomach hurling the liquid unendingly. But there had been an end, although it didn't seem like there would ever be one. Now Ignatius's stomach felt better, and his head was deflated to normal pressure; he felt good all over.

Although no one was looking at him or paying attention to him Ignatius shouted, "God be praised. The doctor told me that if I wanted to be buried that I should go on this voyage, but God has made me well." Ignatius smiled in victory.

#

Seven pilgrims journeyed on donkeys with Ignatius. The pilgrims wore sack cloths like Ignatius did, some grey and some brown. The sandy dirt was covered in occasional small clumps of green, and palm trees grew out of the ground, but provided little shade to the weary travelers. Clearing a hill they spotted a city rising on top of a great hill.

Ignatius shouted, "Is it Jerusalem?"

One of the pilgrims, a fellow Spaniard said, "Yes, it is Jerusalem. I am sure of it."

The other pilgrims started to talk, some of them spoke in Swiss, but it was impossible not to understand what they meant. They felt excited about arriving at Jerusalem. Ignatius leapt from his donkey and jumped up and down; soon the others followed him. There had never been elation such as this to Ignatius' knowledge. It was pure exhilaration from God. Ignatius had trusted God just like Saint Francis and he had been repaid for his trust. To Ignatius the buildings looked more beautiful than those of Venice or Rome. These building represented the foundations of so great a faith as to have changed the world. In the city were the streets where Jesus, John and Peter strode, and now Ignatius would be walking them too. He felt a sense of humility at even walking in the same dust as they had.

#

The prior of the monastery at Jerusalem looked very tall because of his thinness. His tonsure was diminished even more in the back by baldness, but the hair he still possessed retained most of its brownness. His frown dominated his face at the moment.

Ignatius stood before him and finished his speech, "Abbot, I am sure that I can win a few of these Turks over to the faith. I have the utmost confidence in them."

The prior's frown seemed to grow to supernatural proportions. He said, "Ignatius, I don't think you appreciate what we are trying to do here. We cannot proselytize or we will be killed or thrown out. We are only here to provide comfort to peaceful pilgrims. Besides, you have no formal training. In fact, you have no education to speak of. I am not looking for an evangelist, and if I were I would be able to find a dozen men more qualified than you in a matter of months if not weeks."

Ignatius said, "But you don't understand, I am not asking you to provide for me, I have followed Saint Francis and I will beg for my food and not bother you a little. I know that I can be the cause of a great revival in the Holy Land. Just give me a chance."

The prior said, "You have accused me of not listening, but you have not listened to me at all. I don't want or need anyone trying to convert Turks; it will only cause us trouble. You will not succeed and then there will be no place for the poor pilgrims who make it here to be able to rest."

Ignatius said, "I will find another place to live then. I will go about to beg for my food and then I will bring the Turks around. You will see."

The prior said, "You don't see. I forbid you to do this thing. Even if you are not living here you will cause great trouble for us. You are to return home to do your good works there. Be glad that you have had a chance to see the Holy Land, not many do."

Ignatius said, "But who are you to tell me what to do? Inside the monetary I understand you have authority, but outside of it is not your concern. I have come here to convert all of the Turks, and I think God will put them under my hand, and you can't stop me from doing this."

The prior said, "Ignatius, I do have the authority. I have the paperwork from Rome. I am responsible for all Christians in Jerusalem. Do you want me to get the document to show you?"

Ignatius said, "No, that is not necessary. Forgive me prior. I was only upset. I have come all of this way with my plan and not it is finished."

The prior said, "Perhaps God has sent you here because you are in need of wisdom. Think about this on your journey home.

Ignatius said, "Thank you prior."

#

The guard wore a white turban on his head and matching baggy white pants. His brown face was like a figure carved in stone unmoved by emotion or blowing sand. Ignatius grabbed a hold of the knife in his pocket as he approached the man. The guard started to grab the hilt of his sword, but then must have decided that the stranger approaching him was harmless. He spoke words that were understood only by his fellow countrymen.

Ignatius said in the slow voice that seems like it will be able to be understood by foreigners, "I want to go to see where Jesus ascended into heaven." Ignatius hoped that the man would agree to let him into the stone octagonal structure, if he did not, Ignatius might be arrested for being a spy. It was forbidden for him to see the three-layered building that had been a chapel and now was a mosque. The first layer of each side of the octagon was an arch, although only the side that they faced had a door on it. The next layer up on the structure was constructed of eight circles, one on each side and the structure was topped in one dome.

The man didn't seem to understand, Ignatius pointed at himself, then the mosque. The man held out his hands for a bribe and Ignatius gave him the knife from his pocket. The guard nodded and Ignatius went inside. Candles lit the mosque, but the light was dim and Ignatius' eyes had to adjust to make out the holy footprint. The rock was marked by wooden boards and Ignatius could make out the footprint clearly. Ignatius smiled and looked at the footprint, until the guard motioned with his hands that it was time for him to leave.

Ignatius left and started to wander down the road, but then tried to remember which direction Jesus' feet had pointed. He couldn't make out which way they went in relationship to outside. He went back to the guard, who looked a little confused. He pointed inside and the guard held out his hand again. Ignatius froze, he didn't have anything left. He searched his pockets; then he remembered a pair of scissors in his right pocket. He handed them to the guard, who looked disappointed, but motioned for him to go in. Ignatius noted the direction of the footprints and then headed back outside. If he must go, then he was now ready to head back to Europe.

#

Ignatius sat in the classroom alone except for the professor, a thirty-something year old monk. The small class was filled with empty desks.

The professor said, "Ignatius, you don't have to stay here. If you would like to go and see the King you are perfectly welcome. All of the rest of the class has gone to see him."

Ignatius said, "But I want to study. The King is not so very important in comparison with the ability to save souls, and that is what I will do as soon as I am finished with my studies."

The professor sighed; he looked as if he wanted to go out to see the King.

#

Ignatius sat in the tavern of the inn he was staying at while he drank water. A man sat in the table next to Ignatius, he wore a smart beard that was Spanish in style, but his outfit was thin material covered in a green pattern. Besides the man the dank place was deserted.

Ignatius said, "Hello sir, are you a fellow Spaniard?"

The man looked over at him and said, "Yes I am. My name is Jose Escobar, at your service."

Ignatius said, "I don't get to see as many of my fellow countrymen now that I am studying in France."

Jose said, "I am not at Paris University, as you must be, I am only here because of a business affair."

Ignatius said, "I have plans, big plans to change the church for the better."

Jose said, "Be quiet, what if anyone should hear you?"

Ignatius said, "I am not a Lutheran, I have nothing to fear. I am a good Catholic. I am talking about strengthening the Catholic Church by establishing good institutions."

Jose said, "That sounds all right, I don't think you'll get in trouble with that sort of talk."

Ignatius said, "I have been investigated by the inquisition several times now, but I have been cleared of all charges and I think I have impressed a few of the inquisitors."

Jose said, "Then why have you been brought up."

Ignatius said, "It is like we are here. I haven't started to talk about God yet to you; I have been involved in my studies. But it used to be that when I would come across a good man like you at inns and in town squares I would talk to them about God. I was not like the usual Catholic teacher, so people suspected me. The only real fault they have found with me is my lack of education, so I am here to remedy that."

Jose said, "That is great. I am glad you will be able to do all of this with no suspicion of heresy."

Ignatius said, "I don't know why they suspect me so, I have tried to follow all of the saints examples, I have not done anything wrong. Once, while I was on trial, I said, 'I will agree with anything the Pope says, even if it is wrong,' that is how devoted I am."

Jose said, "Good luck Ignatius, I have to head off to my room now, but good luck with your preaching."

Ignatius said, "Do you have to go now? I have a great problem and I think I could trust you since you are a fellow Spaniard."

Jose said, "Trust? Oh, yes, Ignatius, yes. You can trust me with anything. A secret. Money perhaps?"

Ignatius said, "I wouldn't dream of asking you to take on that sort of responsibility. I do have a problem with money though."

Jose cocked his head and said, "Yes Ignatius, go on."

Ignatius said, "I received 25 ducats the other day and I am afraid to leave it in my room."

Jose smiled, but hid the smile quickly and said, "Ah, y es. That is a concern. How did you come upon this money?"

Ignatius said, "It was a gift to help me with my course work."

Jose said, "You can't carry that sort of money around, not in Paris, you'll get mugged. You have to find a person you can trust to give it to so that they can hold it for you."

Ignatius asked, "But who could I give it to?"

Jose said, "You are talking to the right person. I would be glad to hold your money for you."

Ignatius said, "But I don't think that I could put you in that sort of danger. If anyone found out you had that sort of money on you your very life would be in danger."

Jose said, "But Ignatius, I am working for a bank here in Paris, I have to carry money all of the time."

Ignatius said, "What luck. I shall meet you here about an hour before dawn for breakfast and I will let you hold the money for me then."

Jose said, "Before dawn? Oh, yes, that will be just fine."

Ignatius said, "What luck. I was so worried about the money, and I am trying not to think about such things. I only took the money so that I wouldn't have to beg as often and could devote time to my studies."

Jose said, "You can concentrate on your studies with all of your might now, I will take care of you."

Ignatius said, "Thank you and God bless you."

Jose said, "De nada."

#

Juan Escobar lay on the bed in the inn at Rouen, his face looked white, the bed clothes were wound about him, and his bloodshot eyes lacked focus. The room smelled of strange medications and sweat. Juan asked, "Ignatius, is that you?"

Ignatius sat on the bed and held Juan's hand and said, "Yes, it is me."

Juan said, "I am so ill and now I will have to go to jail for stealing your money from you. I have the worst luck. Fortuna must hate me."

Ignatius said, "No, my friend, you have the best of luck. I am not worried about the 25 ducats; I am worried about your immortal soul."

Juan said, "I will rightly burn in Hell for this sin I have committed against you."

Ignatius said, "You have to confess your sin to a priest, do your penance, and then you will be absolved. You do not have to fear the fires of Hell if you take my council. I came here fasting all of the way with concern for your soul."

Juan said, "You fasted all of the way here. It must have taken you at least three days to get here."

Ignatius said, "That is correct, it took me three days. I thought that if I came with forgiveness and hunger, you would see the error of your ways and repent. So, do you repent?"

Juan said, "Yes, I do. And when I get well and go back to Spain I will tell everyone there about the wonderful saint that I have found here."

Ignatius said, "I do it all for God's glory, not my own. I will stay here and nurse you back to health."

Juan said, "I don't have any of the money left, I'm sorry."

Ignatius said, "I did not come for the money, don't think of it anymore."

#

Ignatius looked up in the night sky and saw the wonders there. He had learned much since he had taken on formal theological training, but the most important things he possessed in his heart. The heights of heaven are unimaginable to man as the depths of the sea, and so too is the mind of God. A shooting star flashed across the dark and faded into black. Ignatius wondered if he would be like the shooting star one day.

Epilog

As Ignatius studied, he found six other companions that were of a like mind. All of them were studying to become priests, and they resolved to form the Company of Jesus, or as it is known today, the Jesuits. Each of the first fathers, as they were known, undertook a ritual that Ignatius Loyola had written down in his book, Spiritual Exercises, to rid themselves of sin. Ignatius sought to found worthwhile institutions and to undertake missions. All would be instructed by the Pope and go where he was needed. India, Japan, and Britain were among the first places visited by Jesuits. Jesuits have established universities all over the world, and these are a lasting monument to the faith of one man.

Notes

All of the narratives are true, although the exact words are lost to history. I have also not made up any characters, although we don't know Juan Escobar's real name. Ignatius Loyola was one of the most important reformers of the Catholic Church, but many were attempting reform at the time. Luther had made reform imperative, but Ignatius wanted to reform the church before he had even heard of Luther. He wanted it to return to its medieval roots.

This is one of the many similarities in the two narratives. Luther also wanted to go back, back to a different time, the Apostolic Age, but the similarities are there. Luther started only wanting to reform the church; it was only later when he realized that the differences could never be reconciled that he sought to found a new religion. Both received formal training by the Catholic Church, both were rather naive about the world. But both men have made an impact that will forever change our world.

# The 12

Speratus stood on the edge of the cliff overlooking the Mediterranean; Seagulls were small dots under him floating on air. The sea smelled of salt and old fish. The Mediterranean stretched so wide here that the other side wasn't visible, like the ocean. He standing in Africa and across the sea was Europe. Far below Speratus the Roman ships broke through the waves by the oars of slaves, but Speratus was a free man, he hadn't chosen to fight the Romans when they had conquered Carthage. He had already know of Jesus when they came, and since he knew he could not fight, he fled into the jungle until his people had been defeated, their warriors enslaved or conscripted. A huge gust of wind swept up and he jumped back; he was not afraid for his own life as much as he was afraid for the few pieces of parchment he held in his hand.

Last night Speratus had read through his new copy of Paul's Epistle to the Romans and had been absolutely amazed. The love and warmth from that book was more substantial than the love of most of the people he had known in his life. It seemed impossible, unless it was the Word of God. He would have to tell his little flock about it tonight when they met.

#

Lillian handed a plate of food to the Roman soldier who had been visiting her and her husband's restaurant every day. His beard didn't grow where a scar had been inflicted on his left cheek.

Cleo, the soldier, asked, "Where is your daughter today?"

Lillian said, "She had to go down to the market to get some more flour for the restaurant."

Cleo said, "That's too bad, that's the only reason I come here is to take a good look at her."

Lillian said, "I appreciate that you think she's beautiful."

Cleo said, "I thought that there would be more girls here, some of the other soldiers talk about how free the women are in Africa. How about we make some little arraignment about your daughter?"

Lillian said, "How dare you; she is not a slab of meat to be purchased at the market. We are respectable people. In a few years my daughter will get married. I cannot speak for all of Africa, but in this village we are all decent people."

Cleo said, "I am not a person to be trifled with woman."

Lillian said, "You are an important Roman soldier, I know, but my family still has respect for itself. That is something you can't take away."

Cleo got up and started to walk away, as he went he said, "This isn't over."

#

Lillian and ten other villagers went to hear Speratus speak about the new book that he claimed was "more precious than gold." A fire burned in the center of the circle, the flames like small fingers caressing the logs. The congregation sat around the fire, which felt uncomfortably hot in the summer night thick with humidity. The bright colors of the villagers' robes were dulled by the lack of light, but the brightness in Speratus' eyes more than compensated for them. His dark brown complexion and short, curly hair were like many others in the village, but his cheekbones were high and distinctive. He seemed to have a quiet dignity about him.

Speratus said, "I will be talking to you about Paul's Book to the Romans tonight. He speaks so eloquently of love that it will tear out the last vestiges of hate from you."

Lillian said, "How can this book be to the Romans? They have never heard of love in their lives."

A few of the villagers laughed, but Speratus said, "The proper attitude is for us to show love to the Romans. I know that it is hard, but that is what Jesus commands. We are all sinners before God and therefore cannot pretend to be more just than these fellows."

Lillian said, "How can you say these things? I know that I am more just than any of the Romans that I have ever met. One just tried to trade with me for my daughter's virtue. How can this be anything that I would do? I am respectable."

Speratus said, "It is but for the grace of God that you are a noble woman not enamored of sin. Remember that only Jesus was without sin and it is easy for sin to take over a life."

Cleo stepped out from the shadows and said, "That is a noble speech, but an illegal one. You are guilty of being a Christian."

Speratus said, "I do not deny it, rather I am proud to be called a Christian."

Lillian got up and stepped away from Cleo, but other soldiers surrounded them. Cleo said, "I have brought enough friends to make sure that none of you will get away."

Lillian said, "But what about my daughter and my husband? What will they do?"

Cleo said, "Without you I will take care of her, what do I care about your husband?"

Lillian said, "I don't care what Speratus says, I hate you and I hope God takes judgment on you." Lillian looked around; she could see at least ten soldiers- even though there were twelve villagers they had no chance against trained soldiers carrying the best weapons of the day. But Mary, who was the furthest from them, ran anyway, and a young soldier lunged with his sword at her leg and she fell to the ground, blood splattering on the ground. The soldier pulled her to him like she was a child's toy, tugging at her clothes. When it became obvious to Lillian what he was going to do, she averted her eyes and fell to the ground in prayer.

#

The proconsul Saturninus was the only official in the room that wasn't wearing the dress of a Roman soldier. He appeared in an elegant white robe with a crown of leaves in his hair. He presided over a huge mostly empty white marble structure, whose architectural style borrowed heavily from the Greeks. Braziers lit up the corners of the room, while a beam of sunlight shone on the accused's faces. The villagers charged of being Christians all wore brightly colored robes; their faces were dark set with brown eyes. After this the similarities ended, there were men and women, old, young and middle-aged.

One of the soldiers held out a scroll and read, "Whereas Speratus, Nartzalus, Cittinus, Donata, Vestia, Secunda, Lillian, Mary, Barus, Thomas, Rebecca, and Tiberius have confessed they live in accordance with the religious rites of the Christians, and when an opportunity was given them of returning to the religion of the Romans they persevered in their obstinacy, it is our pleasure they should suffer the sword."

Speratus said, "Thanks be to God."

Nartzalus said, "Today we are martyrs in heaven. Thanks be to God!"

Proconsul Saturninus' face showed puzzlement, but then he said, "We too have a religion and ours is a simple one. We swear by the fortune of the emperor. You should do the same."

Speratus replied, "I do not recognize an empire in this world. I serve that God whom no man has seen or can see. The Lord I acknowledge is the Emperor of all kings and all nations."

Donata added, "Honor to Caesar, but reverence to God alone."

Another one of the accused said, "We reverence no one except our God in heaven."

Saturninus asked, "Would you like time to think it over?"

Speratus asked, "What is the use? The matter is as plain as can be."

Saturninus bowed his head for a moment and said, "I have no choice, I have to obey the law and therefore I sentence you to death by beheading. If you recant before this sentence is carried out then I order the sentence commuted." As they led the prisoners away Saturninus shook his head in disgust and muttered, "This is a waste," to himself.

Speratus said, "I only have one request."

Saturninus asked, "What is that?"

Speratus said, "I want to be killed on the ridge overlooking the Mediterranean."

Saturninus said, "Let it be so."

#

Speratus looked out over the clear waters that he had gazed at so many times, and knew this would be his last. His head lay on the chopping block, but he did not close his eyes. A great wind blew and he felt himself lifted up into the breeze and down towards the waters. The gust kept him from falling as quickly as he should and it was like he was seeing everything in slow motion. The sea rushed towards him, but when he thought he was going to strike it two hands reached out and grabbed him and he turned his head to see who had captured him. Those brown eyes that stared back at him held a miraculous amount of love, more love than the world has hate, more love that it is possible to have in a human's eyes. But it was not until Speratus looked to the top of the man's head and saw the blood run down from his crown of thorns that he knew he was home.

Notes

There is not much information about the twelve Martyrs of Scilla, but what is known is that they were beheaded, tried in Carthage and some of the words from their trial. It is known that most of the Roman officials didn't actively seek out Christians, but had to act if they were informed that a person or persons were Christian so it seems likely to me that someone betrayed them.

Ironically the Roman Empire usually was one of religious tolerance. One of the reasons that Christians were persecuted was because of Roman law, which allowed the Emperor to keep most of the possessions of any Roman found guilty of a capital offense. When rich Roman citizens became Christian and traditionalists criticized the new religion because it didn't lend itself into being adopted into the Roman religion, the emperor saw a way to get the money and placate the traditionalists. Thus we get this sad era of martyrdom that we can only hope will never be repeated again.

The book so far has been stories that had to be cut from my new book _Would You Do What They Did? Great Christian Leaders From Our Past_ due to space issues. The rest of this book contains excerpts from that book.

# The Dying monk

Francis was having a dream of trying to feed all of the hungry in the world when he was woken by screams. He reached for a candle as the cries echoed, "I'm dying, I'm dying!"

Francis's eyes took a minute to adjust to the light, but when they did, he found the brother who was dying; he scooted through the places where the other brothers had been sleeping a few seconds ago. Only one of the brothers remained lying down, and Francis asked, "What are you dying from?"

The brother said, "I am dying of hunger."

One or two of the other brethren started to laugh, but Francis gave them an evil eye, and said, "Then we shall all eat."

Another of the brethren asked, "It is the middle of the night, should we eat?"

Francis whispered, "Our poor brother will feel very inferior if we don't join him in a meal. I for one don't think that he is a weak soul. I have seen how he has acted until now. If we are too harsh with him, it could weaken his faith."

The food was brought out and the brothers ate with Francis. When the food was all gone, Francis stood and said, "My dearest, I bid each of you to consider his nature, because though one among you may be able to sustain himself on less food, yet I do not wish that he who requires more food should imitate him. Instead, let him give his body what it needs, so that it may serve his spirit. Just as we are bound to be aware of superfluity in eating, as that harms both body and soul, so also—but even more—we must beware of too great abstinence. I therefore command all of you that—within the limits of our poverty—we satisfy the body according to its necessities."

# Wolf of Gubbio

Francis stood in the streets of the village of Gubbio. The streets and cottages were white with new fallen snow. Brown patches dotted the streets where the feet of men and a certain wolf had tread. The air smelled crisp and new in the bitter cold.

A woman yelled from a window, "Don't try and tame the wolf, Francis, he has injured men and killed sheep and chickens, he is very dangerous and angry!"

Francis said, "He is one of God's creatures. He may not be the most noble, he may be only hungry. Who am I to judge one that is hungry?"

The woman closed her shutters and Francis was isolated again in the midst of the frosty village. But Francis was patient, and he waited in the cold with no proper coat; he only wore a thin cloak that had been patched a few more times than it should have been. The snow turned blue in the twilight and a wolf howled in the distance.

Francis said, "Come here, Brother Wolf."

A brown and grey wolf strode out into the street, snow sticking to its muzzle. A grey cloud of breath rose from its fangs, and its eyes glowed a brighter red than the candles that shone behind the windows of the town. The wolf raised its head to the night sky and howled.

Francis walked to the wolf slowly and took a bit of roast chicken from his pocket. The wolf growled. Francis tore a bit of the meat off and threw it to the animal. The wolf ate the chicken in one bite and looked at Francis, licking his lips.

Francis said, "Brother Wolf, if it pleases you to make peace, the people of this place will give you food as long as you live, and I know that it is only because of hunger that you have done evil. Do you promise me that you will do no more harm to man or beast?"

The wolf bent his head down, as if to make a reply. Francis threw a little more of the chicken to the wolf. The wolf ate the chicken quickly and walked to Francis with its head down. Francis fed him from his hands and the wolf ate more. Francis then gave the wolf the bone and the wolf took it and lay down with it in his mouth. Francis stroked the fur of the wolf and the wolf chewed the bone. When the bone was gone, the wolf licked Francis's face.

Francis said, "I know it is a terrible thing to be hungry. I will make sure you are hungry no more."

Francis walked to the window of the woman who had told him the wolf was dangerous and said, "Woman, if you want to be friends with this wolf, please bring a small scrap of meat."

The woman opened the window a crack and saw the wolf and Francis standing together. She got a bit of meat out and tried to give it to Francis.

Francis said, "No, give it directly to him so he knows that you are his friend."

The woman threw the meat to the wolf, who ate the meat in one swallow.

Francis said, "See, the wolf will know that you are his friend, give him meat when he comes by your door."

The woman said, "I can't believe he isn't attacking you."

Francis said, "He is a friend of mine, one of God's creatures."

The woman shut her window slowly, as not to disturb the wolf; her eyes were as wide as Francis had ever seen on a woman.

# Epworth

Susanna lay in the bed of the rectory surrounded by two of her oldest daughters. She felt comfortable except for her cheeks, which were warm with fever. Her oldest daughter looked very innocent as she lay asleep in a rocking chair by the bed, her face hidden by a tumble of hair.

Her second eldest daughter sat at the foot of the bed, her long brown hair flowed over a few of the freckles on her cheek. She asked, "Can I get you anything, Mom?"

Susanna barely turned her head and said, "No, thank you. I don't need anything." A small candle flickered in the room; shadows moved across the simple furnishings.

Thunder sounded, and the oldest daughter was startled awake and let out a small scream. The other daughter laughed at her.

Susanna sat up and said, "Don't laugh at your sister."

The cold constantly crept into the room from the outside winter air. The three-story house's thin walls and straw roof didn't protect them well from the cold. The bitter air snuck in through cracks and carried with it the smell of dank dreariness common in rainstorms. After a few minutes, another smell crept silently into the bedroom; it seemed like the smell of leaves burning in the distance.

A scream shook the household and Susanna jumped out of bed, her illness forgotten. She yelled, "That's Hetty!" The two daughters jumped up, their eyes bouncing back and forth trying to figure out what to do.

From the street below, voices called out, "Fire! Fire!" The smoky smell grew stronger and it burned their eyes.

Susanna heard someone go from her husband's bedroom next door; soon, her husband, Samuel, entered the room, his tall form filling the entryway, and his strong face covered in shadow. He said, "We need to get all the children out, the house is on fire."

Susanna went into the hall and saw Hetty covered with ashes. Her hands went to cover her mouth in her shock, but she didn't hesitate long before acting. Susanna and Samuel helped her down the stairs. The smoke grew thicker, and when they reached the bottom of the stairs, Samuel went to the nursery to get the five children there and the maid.

Susanna thought of her son, John, who slept in the attic. She ran upstairs while her husband was waking the children. "John!" She yelled, and ran down the hall. Smoke obscured her vision and flames licked the walls. She could only make out five feet in front of her. She ran up the stairs and opened the door to the attic. The fire burned intensely everywhere she looked. The path to where John stood was an inferno; some of the planks of the floor had given way already. Her heart collapsed, but she knew she had to gather strength to help the rest of her family.

She ran back down the stairs and tried the door to the study; her husband's valuable books and writings were safeguarded there. The door was locked. She went downstairs, but the fire there burned much worse. The front door was open, so she tried to go through it, but a gust of wind, driven by the intense heat, blew a sheet of smoke and flames at her. She tried again, but the fire attacked her in a wave of painful heat.

Susanna tried to get a running start, but this only caused her to be thrown on the floor by the force of the flames. While on the floor, she knelt and prayed for guidance, My Lord, please grant me safely out of your furnace so that I may raise my family. When she opened her eyes, she spotted a shawl on the sofa. She wrapped it around herself and ran out the front door.

She didn't see her husband, but she saw some of her children. She went over to group of them, and asked the small woman who was their maid, Bettie, "Do you know if all of them got out all right?"

Bettie said, "I don't know about John, but the rest have gotten out just fine. I don't think that any of them are hurt seriously, just a few minor burns and scrapes."

Susanna said, "Thank the Lord for his graciousness. We have to figure how to get John out, I tried to go through the attic, but it was impossible to reach him."

Bettie said, "Oh, no, I thought we got all of them out!"

Just then, her frantic husband appeared and said, "Have you seen my wife, she was inside, I tried to get in to save her but the flames beat me back?"

Susanna said, "It's me, Samuel, don't you recognize me?"

The rector examined his wife, "Why, it is you! You are covered head to foot in ashes; I never would have recognized you like you are. Were you getting John, the rest of the children are all right?"

Susanna said, "I tried to, but the flames were too much for me."

A neighbor yelled at them, "Your boy is at the front of the house at a window."

The couple ran to the front of the house. The five-year-old John was screaming, his face covered with streaks of ashes. He stretched his hands out to where no one could possibly reach."

Susanna said, "You must get on top of each other's shoulders to reach the boy."

The neighbors looked at one another for a second, but then they consented, and one by one they climbed on top of Samuel's shoulders and made a human ladder. When all the men had gotten on, they were still about five feet short.

Susanna shouted, "You have to jump John, do it now."

John jumped up, but was not able to get his body through the window. His head disappeared for a few seconds and then he looked through the window again; this time, he appeared taller. His legs stuck through the window and, instead of jumping like he intended, he fell, but was caught by the neighbor on top. The human chain wavered for a few seconds, but them it stabilized. Then the roof caved in; if John has stayed in the attic a few seconds more, he would have been killed. The neighbors passed him down and the ladder dissipated.

Susanna inspected her child, and determining him to be free of serious injuries, she hugged him, and then said, "You are truly a brand plucked from the fire." Then she took his hand and went to his father, who hugged him.

John said, "I had to push a chest over to stand on to jump out of the window."

Susanna said, "John, that was very smart of you." Then she turned to Samuel, "I tried to save your books, but I couldn't. They were worth so much money; I can't believe that our house and the books are gone."

Samuel said, "Now that you and all the children are preserved...." For a moment, he was too choked up to speak. He turned and addressed those around who had helped him save John. "Come, neighbors, let us kneel down; let us give thanks to God. He has given me all my eight children. Let the house go; though I have no possessions, I am rich enough."

# The Ship

John studied a book on German since there were twenty-six German Moravians on board. He was cramped in the small cabin in which there was only room for his bed, which he was sitting on to study, and a shelf on which rested a few papers and two candles. A small porthole was built into the wall, which he had only looked out twice during the journey so far. It didn't open, but if it did, then he would have done so to get rid of the musty air. Some thunder banged far away, and John could hear a child start to cry. He concentrated all the more. He knew he could concentrate—he was disciplined, after all.

It had taken John a while to get used to the gentle rocking of the waves on the ocean, but this night, each wave seemed to be a little less gentle. The candles lighting his material began to flicker, and, for the first time, he began to wonder if the night would be productive after all. He strained his eyes and sharpened his mind to his task.

Another child started to cry outside his cabin, and John had to focus on each word to be able to learn it. The waves could not be called gentle at all now, and John stressed over each letter. One of the candles fell on the floor and John reached down to pick it up, but then the biggest wave so far hit the ship. John half fell on the floor, he was wedged in between the bed and the wall.

John wasn't hurt, so he grabbed the candle and crawled back on the bed. Now, he could hear a muffled sound from up on deck. He could not recall ever hearing the crew from his cabin, they had to be shouting at each other. That was when his annoyance left him and he began to feel a sense of fear.

John looked out the porthole; ocean spray blocked his visibility, and he couldn't make out anything but water. John started to laugh at himself. What had I expected to see out there? More thunder crashed outside and he could hear quite a few of the eighty English colonists in the cabins around him begin to talk. He, apparently, was not the only once to feel apprehension; this strangely made him feel better, a little. I had better find Charles. He's working on one of his sermons. I will try and squeeze into his cabin and I'll comfort him and he can comfort me.

The second candle went out from the violent motion of the waves. John fumbled for the door and opened it. An oil lamp bobbed back and forth in the hallway, illuminating the doors and the exit to the back of the ship. The corridor looked narrow, even more so where support beams ran up the walls. John's eyes went to the floor. WATER, THERE IS WATER ON THE FLOOR. THERE MUST BE A LEAK. John grabbed his chest and tried to calm himself. It is raining. There are probably a few waves that have gone over the edge of the railing, there is not that much water on the floor.

The boat rocked violently and John stumbled. Through the door of the cabin opposite him, he heard a woman say, "I told you I had a bad feeling about this voyage! We're all going to die, I know it!"

A man's voice said, "Don't say that, you are only going to upset yourself! Listen to the children cry in the other cabins; if they hear you, they will be more upset than they are."

John was tumbled to the ground by the worst wave yet; now a few of the adults were crying out as well. The dampness from the floor soaked through the whole front of John's shirt. The corridor seemed to brighten; John thought perhaps a passenger had opened a door, but when he glanced up, he saw the oil lamp had fallen to the floor and now the oil from the lamp burned on the wood floor.

John didn't hesitate; he pushed some of the water on the ground to the lamp and the fire lessened. He thought if he could just do it again from the other side, the fire would be out completely. John jumped to the other side of the fire, being careful not to get cut on the broken glass of the lamp and scooped water from where it was caught by a support beam. As the wave went forth from his hands to douse the fire, a wave struck the ship, and John's hand went into a piece of glass. Pain shot through his arm from the wound on the side of his hand. He strained to keep from taking the Lord's name in vain. At least, he thought, the fire is out.

He waited for his eyes to adjust to the darkness, but there was no light for his eyes to get used to. Charles' cabin is only three doors down from mine; I still should be able to get there. He felt along the corridors until he got to the second door. A tremendous boom sounded, and then it sounded like all of the wood on the boat was creaking at the same time. John heard rope snap and the boat tilted. He prayed, Oh God, I know I am a sinner, please deliver me from this terror.

But more ropes broke and then there was a horrible crunching noise, then a loud crash, and the boat was knocked down a foot or more. Sawdust fell from the ceiling and got into John's eyes. The boat started turning around in a circle, and it seemed like a thousand people were shouting all at once. A wave of water hit his feet; more water must have come aboard.

A thousand voices cried out in the night, "The mast has broken, the main mast has broken!"

"We are all going to die."

"Blood, all I see is blood, are you okay, Mattie?"

"The ship is going to sink."

John decided to ignore the cacophony of voices and started to walk again to Charles' room. Another huge wave crashed onto the ship, and John's head was knocked on a support beam. He wandered for a minute, dazed, until he was aware of what was happening again. Terror poured from every part of his body and he felt along the wall until he found a support beam and he clung to it with all his faith.

The wound in his right hand throbbed, and the screams of his fellow Englishmen hurt his ears. After a few minutes of clinging for his life, he found another sound among the din. What madness is this, it sounds like a song. It sounds like singing. Could it be an angel to take me out of this hell? John wandered closer to the sound, and it indeed was singing. It was not the song of an angel, but it seemed to be like the German he was learning. A few steps closer and he could tell that it was a German hymn.

They're singing? He thought, singing. I'm not sure whether to be comforted or horrified at this. He had to take a few steps closer to the noise, as if he thought it would dissipate if he approached. Instead, he heard a small child talk calmly. He hadn't learned enough German yet to make out what the boy said, but a man answered him, also in calm tones. Every nerve in John's body felt as if it would snap in two at any moment, and his hands were shaking. How could this be?

He knelt down and listened to the German Moravians talk calmly; every once and a while, he heard someone say a word he understood—God, grace or Jesus—but he didn't understand most of it. He listened for an hour, and then realized the waves had died down to their usual gentle slopes. He got up and thought about how the ship was laid out. He had been confused and wasn't thinking clearly because he was frightened, but he was all right now, and he walked back to his cabin in the darkness. He could barely feel the pain in his hand now; he thought it was very serious at the time, but now he knew better. He felt his way along. I'm not sure how I will tell which one is my cabin, he thought, but then a crunching sound came from his feet and he knew he was only one door from his own cabin.

John opened the doors to his cabin and lit a candle. The small room brightened and he could make out his bed and papers that were on the floor now. He didn't care; he lay down and dreamt of shipwrecks, hymns, and angels.

# 95 theses

It was the day we know as Halloween, but no one wore costumes or went door to door searching for treats. Dull gray clouds obscured the sun and took the sharpness off colors. Martin wandered past a row of trees, which now looked like sticks, carrying a few papers, a hammer, and nails. He wondered towards Castle Church, which stood fifty feet tall; it looked as it were a hundred shades of stone gray in the darkening sky. A few students walked about and some of the surrounding houses had orangish lights shining through their windows.

Another professor nailed a thesis on the door of the Castle Church. He asked, "How's it going, Professor Luther?"

Martin said, "Not so well. I had another parishioner tell me they weren't going to repent because of the sale of indulgences. I have to do something to try and stop it."

The professor asked, "Is that what you have brought?"

Martin said, "Yes, it is what I have brought."

The professor said, "Then I guess I won't have very many people show up to debate me over the usefulness of Plato in modern times."

Martin said, "No offense, but I hope not. This may not affect very many people, these things never do, but if we can impress them upon the minds of the thinking people, then we can effect change."

The professor said, "As long as the wrong people don't see it too soon."

Martin asked, "What do you mean?"

The professor said, "The Pope's agents."

Martin said, "I don't think that the Pope would go against the basic philosophies of his own Church. I plan on sending a copy to Albert of Mainz. If they are guilty of conspiracy in this regard, then they deserve a chance to openly debate the matter. If anyone can show me with Scriptures or plain reason where I am in error, then I will recant. Otherwise they should, it is that simple."

The professor dropped his hammer and ran away from Martin. He looked back with terror in his eyes.

Martin said, "You forgot your hammer," then started to nail his own thesis to the door. He knew his words were heavy, but he still thought the professor to be overly worried. I only want the truth, who can be against that? he thought. I only want a debate; certainly, I have the right to debate these things openly. He looked at his theses and wondered how he could protect more people from the evil of indulgences. If they trusted in an indulgence instead of repentance, then they could endanger their mortal soul. He would have to think of some way that he could get his message across to more than the few dozen at best who would be at the debate, but he didn't know how.

Martin walked away from the door onto lengthening shadows of houses and trees. A hooded figure walked towards him carrying a lantern which illuminated the path. The figure was black and somehow reminded Martin of the time Germany had been infested with the plague.

The hooded figure asked, "Martin, what are you doing here?"

The voice was familiar; it was his old friend. Martin said, "Alexius? You shouldn't walk out like that; you practically scared me to death."

Alexius said, "I wanted to come out and see what sort of thing would be posted on the church door."

Martin said, "I have posted a list of grievances with the practice of indulgences. They are an obstacle to salvation. They are against true repentance and I cannot believe the Pope has sanctioned them."

Alexius said, "It looks like my feeling was correct. I thought there would be a good debate posted tonight."

Martin said, "Another professor was here and posted a debate on Plato. I think I will agree with his premises, but I think my argument has much greater weight.

Alexius said, "I will have to look at his thesis as well."

Martin said, "I am glad to see you, old friend, but I must get back to sing vespers."

Alexius said, "Of course. I wish you well."

Kidnapped

Martin rode in the carriage through the rough lines of forest on his way back to Wittenberg, the Imperial safe conduct letter in his pocket. The sun had set and in the carriage, it was hard to see without its light. Hooves of horses beat in the night. More hooves than there was supposed to be. Martin heard a shout from outside, "Halt if you want to live!"

Martin could feel the carriage slow and come to a stop. The carriage driver said, "Why are you come out against us, none of us are rich, but you may take what we have."

The stranger's voice said, "We only want that traitor to the Pope, Martin Luther."

The carriage door was thrown open and Martin saw a man wearing a black mask that covered his whole face and chain mail armor. The man grabbed Martin and dragged him outside.

Martin said, "I will go with you, but do not harm these innocents, they are only obeying the wishes of the Holy Roman Emperor."

Martin could see six of the bandits, each dressed similarly in masks, chainmail, and black robes. One bandit held his arm, but the rest were holding swords and maces. The one who held him said, "Don't worry, it's only you that we want. The rest of these people can go when we have taken care of you."

The man bound Martin in ropes and put a gag in his mouth. Two of the other bandits helped him throw Martin up on a horse. The kidnappers led Martin away on his horse through the deepening shadows of the night. The men were virtually silent during the trip through the thick canopy of trees where Martin couldn't see even the slightest trail. The moon was only a sliver when it was visible through the branches.

After at least an hour, one of them said, "Luther, dismount your horse, we will walk for a few miles."

Martin tried to get down from the steed, but it was impossible with his hands tied. The men helped him, and he got down. Then one of the men took the horses while they walked through an overgrown path. Martin knew they were doing this to avoid being trailed; if a skilled tracker came, he would follow the horses. The bandits surrounded Martin.

One of them said, "Luther, walk with us."

They walked through the overgrown trail, insects bit and the occasional branch scratched his face. He could smell, but not see in the virtual darkness, moss, and decaying logs. Eventually, they reached a crest, and he could see a courtyard. The closer he came, the better he could make out the details; a well had been dug in the center of the courtyard, surrounded by bricks. The building didn't look like a castle on this side, but it was as large as one. The light colored walls on its side were framed by darker boards, and a small spire rose up, but not over the height of the main building. Martin thought this was The Knight's House at Wartburg.

One of the bandits said, "Now you have to put this on while we take you inside."

He handed Martin a mask, he put it on and was led through the rooms awkwardly until the air grew colder and the smell of it grew dank. He heard the squeak of rusty hinges and the clinking of metal.

The bandit said, "You can take your mask off now."

Martin opened his eyes and saw what he had feared; he was in a prison cell. The room was sparse; pale bricks made up the walls; a small desk for the guard was situated across the room.

One of the bandits drew near the bars of the cell and said, "Luther, there are many who want to destroy you. If you value your life, don't tell anyone who you are. We have arranged to do this to you to keep you safe."

Martin asked, "Who, who has done this?"

The bandit said, "You will find out in time, but for now it is too risky to tell you."

Martin watched him as he went away and wondered who his benefactor was.

# Fleeing England and the King

A tall man dressed as a monk hung onto the railing of a small sailing ship, a black king from a chess set in his hand. A full moon shone down on him and illuminated his aquiline nose and pale complexion. The man seemed not capable of properly wearing the tattered clothing that hung on him. On his right hand he wore a gold ring inset with a large ruby; this seemed to fit the man much better than the old rags. Large boots that were common for some monks overpowered his feet.

The air smelled fresh and cool and he looked out to the gathering clouds; the dark blue of the sky had gathered into black. Lightning tore into England's countryside, where he had just left. A violent storm was coming towards him; he might be able to outrun it for a while, but it would overtake him eventually.

He heard shouting behind him, "Thomas! Thomas!"

Thomas turned around; Brother Jacob was running up to him. He also wore monk robes, but they seemed to fit naturally on his pudgy frame. His face was round and jolly, and his eyes were brown and dull. Thomas said, "Brother Jacob, please refrain from calling me that out here. Remember, I am to be known as Brother Christian."

Jacob bowed before Thomas.

Thomas frowned, "And please don't do that. I am running for my life, and for the sanctity of the Church of England, I don't want to be recognized. Besides, perhaps one day you will be the archbishop."

Jacob said, "You don't really think so, do you?"

Thomas said, "Of course I do. I remember when I crossed the Channel with the old Archbishop Theobald. The king, this was before Henry, had forbidden his crossing to meet with the Pope. I was his only companion, just like you are now, and there were these two men oaring the boat. I don't think that they had ever rowed a boat before, but it was all the help to be had. At least I was able to secure passage with this crew. I think that the English Channel's waters were lower by the time we got across, there was so much water in the boat."

Jacob frowned, "I don't really think that you could lower the water of the English Channel with just a few gallons of water in a boat, especially one small enough to oar."

Thomas said, "I do know that, my dear friend, it was a hyperbole."

Jacob said, "I don't think even with one of these hyperboles that you would be able to...."

Thomas cut him off, "It's an exaggeration to make a point. A joke." Thomas smiled.

Jacob took a few moments to think about this and then laughed, "I get it now, a joke."

Thomas said, "When we got to the council, the Pope had received word about how difficult our journey was and said 'I heard you had to swim the Channel.'" Thomas chuckled.

Jacob asked, "Why would he say that?"

Thomas thought, This man will never be archbishop, and said, "Don't worry about it."

Jacob said, "But you said that you had ridden in a boat. Did it sink?"

A huge raindrop landed on Thomas and he shivered. He said, "Let's go inside, this rain is as cold as the grave."

Jacob said, "That's what I've been trying to tell you."

# Meeting with the king

Thomas sat in the drawing room of the grand estate at Tours. Large windows framed by lace showed the gardens, but it was late in the year and most of the flowers had died. Thomas looked at the ornate carvings on the door frames; they showed an angry angel lunging with a scythe.

The king burst into the room without warning and said, "Hello, Thomas, I hope all is well."

Thomas said, "Everything is fine with me. I have taken a leave from the monastery to get ready for my journey."

The king asked, "You really were a monk? I thought it was a disguise."

Thomas smiled, "I know that you know perfectly well that I was a real monk."

The king said, "Yes, perhaps, but your outfit never looked right on you. I think you needed a little humility."

Thomas said, "So you have done all of this to me to provide me with the missing humility."

The king said, "You know better than that, Thomas, you have always been my friend."

Thomas asked, "Then you are going to restore my property to me immediately?"

The king stopped walking for about the first time that Thomas remembered, and said, "Oh, why do you not do what I want? I would hand everything over to you then."

Thomas looked at the king; he had not changed at all. He said, "Oh, King, there is nothing more I want to do than to do everything that you want, but how can I betray my conscience? Am I just a person or am I the Church? If I were just a person, I could do whatever you would please, but as the representative of the Church of England, I have to obey God in all."

The king said, "Have I not raised you from the poor and humble to the summit of honor and rank? How can it be that after so many favors, you are not only ungrateful but oppose me in everything?"

Thomas said, "I am not unmindful of the favors which, not simply you, but God the giver of all things, has decided to confer on me through you. As St. Peter says, 'We ought to obey God rather than men.'"

Henry said, "I don't want a sermon from you. Are you not the son of one of my serfs?"

Thomas said, "It is true that I am not of royal lineage; but then, neither was St. Peter."

The king sunk his head down and said, "I think he would cause me less trouble than you do."

Thomas said, "I think there is a chance you are right. I wish it wasn't so."

Henry paced back and forth for a few moments and then said, "I have to be getting back now. Goodbye, Thomas."

Thomas said, "My lord, my heart tells me that I depart as one who you will not see again."

The king stopped and turned to him and said, "Do you count me as faithless then?"

Thomas said, "May you never be, my lord."

# Bibliography

Cover Art is Vasiliy Polenov's "On the Genisaret"

Bunyan, John, and W. R. Owens. The Pilgrim's Progress. Oxford [England: Oxford UP, 2003.

Print.

"Favorite Monks: St. Telemachus: Monk Who Ended the Coliseum Games (ThePrayerFoundation)." The Prayer Foundation. Web. 14 Mar. 2011.

<http://prayerfoundation.org/favoritemonks/favorite_monks_telemachus_coliseum.htm>.

# About The Author

William Dean Hamilton, is the author of over 1,000 articles, works of fiction and Poetry, has just had his book, "Would _You Do What They Did? Great Christian Leaders From Our Past"_ published by Crosslink Publishing. Mr. Hamilton writes the blog This Week in Christian History. He has recently been interviewed on Red's Revelations, in Book Goodies, and by the Awesome Gang. 110 copies of one of his previous books, "Blessed, Life and Films of Val Kilmer," were signed by Val Kilmer.

"Would _You Do What They Did? Great Christian Leaders From Our Past" was just published by Crosslink Publishing_. Come, tame a wolf, flee from the wrath of the king, feel the horror of impending doom on a ship, and the uncertainty of one's own salvation with these great heroes of the faith. The book is a creative nonfiction collection of biographies of Martin Luther, Francis of Assisi, John Wesley, the founder of the Methodist Church, and Thomas Becket.

