Free The Temporal Knights by Richard D. Parker

be strong, persuasive, a good organizer and very determined. In his day he built schools, invited scholars to his kingdom from all over Europe, and in fact, was something of a historian, having translated several works into English, including the History of the World, written by a Spanish priest named Oronius.”
    “Perhaps then he will sympathize with our plight.”
    Rice nodded. “Perhaps, but remember he is still a man of the times. His world will largely be a creation of his beliefs and it may be very hard to get across certain modern concepts, especially abstract concepts. This was a time of magic, fables, and good clean earth. What was understood was concrete, what you could feel, taste, or touch, anything outside the senses fell into the realm of the mystical.”
    “We should seem very mystical then,” Lemay added.
    “Um...which brings up another thought,” Rice continued. “The strength of the church in these times was very formidable, not what it will be in another seven hundred years, but still something to consider very carefully. The monks and monasteries were a growing force, especially in this country. They were led mostly by Celtic monks coming out of Ireland. There was great friction and then finally fusion between the druids and the Christians...yes this will be very interesting.”
    “You think the religious hierarchy could give us trouble?” Peebles asked.
    “If they turn against us, many of the people of the land will also turn against us. I would suggest that we move slow and careful with our enlightenment.”
    “Thank you for the advice,” the General said, meaning it.
    “If this is all true, it will be a wondrous adventure,” the doctor commented, his eyes gleaming with anticipation.
    The General looked at him and began to laugh hard enough for tears to well up in his eyes, which startled and puzzled Gordon Rice.
    “As if your life up to this point has been dull,” Peebles managed to say still very amused. “Good God man haven’t you had enough adventure?”
    “Watch the blaspheme,” Rice answered, his smile suddenly falling from his face. “It’s important…very important.”
    The General nodded, immediately getting the point. “I expect you to pass along that warning to everyone. Tell them it comes directly from me,” he added flatly and dismissed him. He needed time to think.

 
    Chapter Three
     
    T he long boats slip slowly, quietly through the deepest part of the channel. Mindful of the darkness, a torchbearer sat on the bow of the lead boat, checking for rocks, dangerous drift wood and shallow sandbars. They were pushing far up the tributary, moving for the new abbey. There were ten boats, cutting through the shallow water, four hundred and fifty men in all. They would sack the abbey before sunrise if they could, hunting for gold and silver, before moving on to the growing town of Gloucester.
    Ivarr stood just behind the torchbearer, gazing intently through the darkness to the southeast. The abbey was there, he’d sent scouts out overland two months prior to gather information on the town and its defenses. The Anglish king Alfred was growing wise in the ways of battle, but the Viking warlord was still confident they could cut the Lizard off from the rest of Wessex. His brother Ubba already had a foothold on the peninsula and with Halfdan ruling out of East Anglia the country was on the verge of collapsing.
    “Hssst!” the man with the torch hissed and pointed out into the darkness. Ivarr gazed where his man was pointing and at first saw nothing. The Anglish holy men, lovers of the weak god, were not foolish enough to light their homes in the darkness, but as Ivarr moved his eyes about, using his peripheral vision in the darkness, he finally spotted the dark walls of the abbey against the slightly lighter sky.
    Ivarr grunted softly and the boat immediately turned and slid lightly up onto the bank. The other boats silently followed and less than three minutes later four