Free East of Ashes by Gideon Nieuwoudt Page A
Authors: Gideon Nieuwoudt
St. Simeon."
"Thank you. I'm sure I'll manage," Lamech said without smiling.
"I'm afraid you'll have to find a place on deck to sleep as we don't have any cabins left," De Lagery continued and eyed Lamech appraisingly, wondering whether he had made a wise decision. Too late , he thought. It's in the Lord's hands now .
"That's fine. And I'm not inexperienced with ships so you may put me to work," Lamech replied.
De Lagery laughed. "Don't worry about that," he answered, "That goes without saying."
Lamech smiled slightly at his words. "I can see this is going to be an eventful trip," he replied.
De Lagery laughed uproariously and slapped Lamech on the back. "You can count on that," he said, all doubts of having had Lamech on board his ship disappearing.
-------
--- St Simeon, November 1097 ---
The trip was utterly uneventful. The Mediterranean Sea behaved itself miraculously well, with a favourable wind speeding the travellers to St. Simeon. A couple of days into their journey they had joined up with a Genoese fleet which was also heading towards St Simeon from Italy.
On a mid-November morning, Lamech was standing at the railing of their ship, gazing into the misty horizon. The undefined hulks of the Genoese fleet could barely be made out on both sides of them; ghostly apparitions rolling in and out of focus through the mist, gently bobbing up and down on the waves.
At any other time it would have been a fascinating sight, but at that very moment Lamech didn't notice anything around him, his mind occupied by long dead images.
With calm seas and full sails, there was very little for Lamech to do on the trip but fight the urge to sink deeper into dark thoughts. It was a battle against memories of blood, betrayal and vengeance that threatened to consume him. As much as he tried to keep the menacing waves at bay, rivulets of memories seeped through cracks in his defences and filled his heart and mind.
The memories were dark, but the clarity of the pain kept it from blurring.
It hadn't been difficult to track down her murderer. The man had been a prominent figure in the city. A score of witnesses had identified him as the man who they had seen running from her room, blood splattered all over his clothes.
Upon learning the identity of her murderer, Lamech had stormed into the man's house in a blind rage. He had found him sitting down for dinner as if nothing had happened. But when he saw Lamech standing in the doorway, he kicked over his chair in his haste to get away. Lamech had dived across the table and bore him to the ground, his one knee wrenched painfully into the man's stomach.
Lamech remember holding his knife against his throat, staring into fearful eyes. He had held himself on the brink for what felt like hours, desperately fighting the urge to slice into his throat.
If it wasn't for his father storming into the room and screaming for him to stay his hand, he probably would have killed him.
A piercing cry propelled him back to the present: "Land ahead!"
His head jerked up at the sound and he peered into the morning fog. He could just make out the outline of something slowly taking shape in the distance. He moved away from the side railing and made his way towards the front of the ship where he joined other soldiers and some sailors who were staring at the rapidly materialising harbour walls of St Simeon.
His dark recollections of a moment ago faded quickly with each rise and fall of the ship. Lamech could feel his heart lifting as the ship stormed towards the misty apparition. He felt elated, even as the familiar anger still boiled just below the surface.
At last he would find something for his sword to do.
As the fleet drew closer to the harbour, he could make out figures standing on the harbour wall, waiting for them to dock. At first they seemed ghost-like thanks to the mist that was
"Thank you. I'm sure I'll manage," Lamech said without smiling.
"I'm afraid you'll have to find a place on deck to sleep as we don't have any cabins left," De Lagery continued and eyed Lamech appraisingly, wondering whether he had made a wise decision. Too late , he thought. It's in the Lord's hands now .
"That's fine. And I'm not inexperienced with ships so you may put me to work," Lamech replied.
De Lagery laughed. "Don't worry about that," he answered, "That goes without saying."
Lamech smiled slightly at his words. "I can see this is going to be an eventful trip," he replied.
De Lagery laughed uproariously and slapped Lamech on the back. "You can count on that," he said, all doubts of having had Lamech on board his ship disappearing.
-------
--- St Simeon, November 1097 ---
The trip was utterly uneventful. The Mediterranean Sea behaved itself miraculously well, with a favourable wind speeding the travellers to St. Simeon. A couple of days into their journey they had joined up with a Genoese fleet which was also heading towards St Simeon from Italy.
On a mid-November morning, Lamech was standing at the railing of their ship, gazing into the misty horizon. The undefined hulks of the Genoese fleet could barely be made out on both sides of them; ghostly apparitions rolling in and out of focus through the mist, gently bobbing up and down on the waves.
At any other time it would have been a fascinating sight, but at that very moment Lamech didn't notice anything around him, his mind occupied by long dead images.
With calm seas and full sails, there was very little for Lamech to do on the trip but fight the urge to sink deeper into dark thoughts. It was a battle against memories of blood, betrayal and vengeance that threatened to consume him. As much as he tried to keep the menacing waves at bay, rivulets of memories seeped through cracks in his defences and filled his heart and mind.
The memories were dark, but the clarity of the pain kept it from blurring.
It hadn't been difficult to track down her murderer. The man had been a prominent figure in the city. A score of witnesses had identified him as the man who they had seen running from her room, blood splattered all over his clothes.
Upon learning the identity of her murderer, Lamech had stormed into the man's house in a blind rage. He had found him sitting down for dinner as if nothing had happened. But when he saw Lamech standing in the doorway, he kicked over his chair in his haste to get away. Lamech had dived across the table and bore him to the ground, his one knee wrenched painfully into the man's stomach.
Lamech remember holding his knife against his throat, staring into fearful eyes. He had held himself on the brink for what felt like hours, desperately fighting the urge to slice into his throat.
If it wasn't for his father storming into the room and screaming for him to stay his hand, he probably would have killed him.
A piercing cry propelled him back to the present: "Land ahead!"
His head jerked up at the sound and he peered into the morning fog. He could just make out the outline of something slowly taking shape in the distance. He moved away from the side railing and made his way towards the front of the ship where he joined other soldiers and some sailors who were staring at the rapidly materialising harbour walls of St Simeon.
His dark recollections of a moment ago faded quickly with each rise and fall of the ship. Lamech could feel his heart lifting as the ship stormed towards the misty apparition. He felt elated, even as the familiar anger still boiled just below the surface.
At last he would find something for his sword to do.
As the fleet drew closer to the harbour, he could make out figures standing on the harbour wall, waiting for them to dock. At first they seemed ghost-like thanks to the mist that was
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