Free Norseman Raider (The Norseman Chronicles Book 4) by Jason Born Page B

the robe with flecks of dirt and mud.  The sleeves of the garment came just to his hand and were wide, shaped like a bell, flaring out.  The cuffs had deep violet piping at the edges.  He wore a simple, but fine, white cord of three strands for a belt.  The rope’s ends bounced down at one of his knees as he scurried.  Killian bent down and offered the food without asking whether or not I was hungry.
    Likewise, without asking, I greedily snatched up the bread and tore it in half before stuffing a large hunk into my mouth.  Though my mouth was parched from all my drinking, the dry bread tasted good.  Killian set the plate on my lap and crouched so that he balanced on the balls of his feet.  I could see his footwear for the first time.  They weren’t the sandals that I would later see on monks or the fancier shoes preferred by many priests.  Killian wore boots much like mine.  He wore woolen t rousers too, also like those I wore.  Beneath his royal-looking garb, Killian was a working, or perhaps, fighting man at heart.
    A second enormous bite of bread slid down my gullet.  I jammed a section of the salted fish in closely behind.  Through my gnawing I asked, “What price is the food, priest?”  I wasn’t sure what to call the man.  I had heard the Christians call him father, but I already pined for my first and second fathers, so I was in no hurry to add another.
    Killian allowed a smile to draw upon his small face.  It seemed to nearly swallow his head, it was so broad.  “Young traveler, I was under the impression that you had no money left.   Your man, Leif, has not been shy in telling your plight.”
    I actually ha d a few copper pennies, English I think they were, and one silver Kufic that had come to me on some circuitous trade route from a land of deserts.  I wasn’t destitute, but it would be only a matter of days before I would have to sell my arm ring from Erik, the brooch I used to fasten my cloak, or even my walrus tusk comb just to eat.  “Then what did you expect in return?”  I began eating faster in order to quickly fill my stomach in case he gave me terms with which I’d not agree.
    “There’s no need to gorge yourself,” Killian said , tut-tut-ting.  “If you need more, we can find you some.”
    “What’s the price?” I asked, not believing him.
    “The price has been paid,” he answered.
    “Leif?” I asked.  “Another of my crew?   I don’t need any charity from them.”
    He shook his head.
    “Not King Godfrey?” I asked.
    “You are one of his sworn men now and so it would be in his interest to keep you alive so that you may do the same for him when the time comes.  But no, the king did not buy you a meal.”  Killian plopped his rump down in the dirt.  It made me cringe to think of how filthy his clean, white robes would get.  He didn’t seem to care.  “A man who was God and was of God, long ago paid the price for all of us.  I simply do my feeble best to extend his sacrifice to others.  Just now, it happens to be you.”
    He spoke in mysteries to me.  I now know all there is to know about the One True God and his only Son, the Christ, Jesus and his sacrifice for all mankind.  I’ve read the God-inspired words of his book.  I’ve served a holy and devout king who himself converted thousands upon thousands of my countrymen to the faith of the One True God.  But that is for a different tale at a different time.  Suffice it to say, I understood nothing of what Killian said that day.
    He could tell.  “You come from Iceland and this new land, Greenland?”
    “Yes, and I’ve never known a Christian.  My father and all his fathers before him followed our gods.”  I pointed to the image of Odin above my head and behind me.  “He’s one of them.”
    Killian studied me.  Looking back on it now, I think the feisty, little priest saw something in me that day.  I think the One God told him that with patient care, I’d be a follower of His.