Haack Incipio

Germania around 820 A.D.
1. Auflage 2024
ISBN: 978-3-7597-1794-8
Verlag: BoD - Books on Demand
Format: EPUB
Kopierschutz: 6 - ePub Watermark

E-Book, Englisch, 192 Seiten

Ninth century AD: The Nova Corbeia monastery is commissioned to missionise pagans in Saxony. The young Benedictine monk Johannes from Franconia sets off on a dangerous journey into pagan territory as a courier under escort. On the way, however, he not only has to brave the dangers of unruly nature and wild animals, Brother Johannes also learns a lot: he steers a wagon and a boat, soon speaks several pagan dialects and familiarises himself with the healing powers of plants. It is not long before the young monk leaves the safe har- bour of the monastery to make his home on the high seas of life: A missionary assignment sends him to a pagan village settlement in inhospitable territory.

Born in Bremerhaven in 1949. - Grew up and played in the city's war ruins. - Graduated from secondary school at the Theodor Storm School in Bremerhaven. - Compulsory military service: from July 1966 to November 1967 as a paramedic. - Apprenticeship in Bremerhaven - Training as a meditation teacher at the Meru (Maharishi European Research University) in Switzerland. - Master craftsman and technician training at the Justus von Liebigschule in Hanover. Degree: Agricultural Engineer, Department of Horticulture and Landscaping and Master Horticulator. - Employed until 2014. - From 2014 active as a writer.

Autoren/Hrsg.

Haack, Holger H.

Leseproben

Chapter 2

Fifteen miles upriver from Nova Corbeia and three miles inland lies Schmeessen, a small Germanic village. But even here in this small village, the Germanic merchants come and bring goods from far away and also buy goods. Alfgeir is a young merchant who visits his friend Arild in this village. He laughs and says: "Arild, come on, tell your wife to make us mead. She has collected so much honey, as you said, she will have enough for mead."

Alfgeir is tall, twenty-five years old, slim and has a happy grin on his face. His hair is long, straight, and blond, and his short beard is blond too, but a little curly. He wears clothes and boots of soft leather. The bootleg is tied around the calves with leather straps. A small sack hangs from his belt and in the back is a dagger in a leather sheath. He hits his friend Arild on the shoulder.

Arild is a little smaller, but much sturdier. He is at least ten years older, and he grins, too, but then he says seriously: "Alfgeir, you are the most travelled man, so you must know that even though I am the battle commander here, I have no place to order my wife in the house. She has domestic authority; I have nothing to say. That's just tradition. That's how it was, and that's how it will stay. Otherwise, she can complain to the elders, and then I will have trouble inside and outside the house. But I'm not here to make speeches."

Arild's hair is blond, too, and the beard, which is also blond, is longer than his friend's. His top consists of a fur-vest, and, around the stomach, he wears a very wide belt. His legs are in leather pants. He wears similar boots to Alfgeir’s. At his side hangs a rather short sword. "I can ask her very dearly for it. Wait here, I'll ask her."

"I know you will." Alfgeir's laugh lines around his eyes deepen: "But I'm waiting. I don't have a wife yet. On my travels it would have been helpful to have one. Is it difficult for you to ask your wife now?"

"It depends on how you feel about your wife; it is always helpful if she has chosen you, then you can be sure that she likes you. One more thing; she can't even make mead just like that. That takes a long time, but I will ask if there is any mead left. So now let go of me, I'll go ask." Arild enters his house. The door is open and Alfgeir can see him disappear inside the house.

He sits down on a rock that lies in front of Arild's front door and is useful for all kinds of work there. He is satisfied, because he has brought many bags of amber with him, which he will sell in the village. Jewellery will be made out of them. Like the potters, the goldsmiths in the village are known for their beautiful work, and when they set the amber, it will be very valuable. Probably he can buy the jewellery back and sell it in other regions of the country. He wants to celebrate with Arild, so from friend to friend, and that includes mead. So, he starts thinking about his job as a trader and starts to manipulate his friend a little bit to get mead, which is what he wants. He knows Arild, who has been his friend for a long time and is an older battle commander, a warrior of the first order, intelligent and superior.

Alfgeir remembers well. While he is sitting on the stone, the event in which they met, takes place in his memory:

He drives through the forest, looking for a way south. He heard about the West River and wants to go there. The war has passed by him without a trace, somehow, he is lucky. He is also lucky in his business dealings, and he always gets the better deal, although he makes sure that his business deals are profitable for both sides. After all, up to now he has traded exclusively with his brothers, the Germanic tribes. He has not heard anything about Christians until then. So, he drives new ways to the south and is curious what he will encounter.

It is spring and a bright day. The sun glistens through the trees, the crowns of the trees rustle and sing their familiar song. His ox pulls the cart, and he steps beside it to lead the animal. Since he is tall, he can look over the ox and can easily see where the road branches off.

His thoughts are with the northern sea, which extends endlessly to the east. He has already tried to reach the end of the sea in the east. But at some point, he came across villages where people live, who speak a completely different language. Mutual understanding was only possible with hands and feet, but this did not prevent him from trading with them in this way and still making good profits. But he found it very exhausting, and he wants to find someone soon who knows the language of the people in the East and can translate for him. Maybe he can then learn the language, even though it already sounds very strange and unfamiliar. In the course of time, he had finally learned other dialects; a new language does not scare him.

He has seen a lot of the world so far and wants to see more. Somewhere he heard that it is warmer in the south, and he now wants to explore that. Also, he once met a merchant who sold him wine. He has never drunk anything like that before. He wants to visit the areas where such things are cultivated. He can exchange wine there and sell it here, maybe even for gold. Gold looks very beautiful and is very valuable. It does not take up much space and it is gladly taken everywhere.

Among other things, he also carries small carved figures of the gods with him, and since they are very beautiful and carved from oak, he hopes for a lively trade in the next village. People smell it and know exactly what kind of wood it is. Oak is very popular, except for Freya, she must be carved from linden. It is generally popular to put up figures of gods, and they can be found in many houses.

He emerges from his thoughts, for he sees a horse standing at some distance. Curious, he goes on and comes closer and closer to the animal. Two people are sitting in the grass and eating, one turns to him, jumps up at once and shouts: " Pagan, pagan...! He screams even more as the guy keeps running towards him and draws his sword, but Alfgeir can't understand it. First, he thinks the other one wants to trade with him, and only now he notices that he is in danger. Abruptly he stops his ox.

The guy comes closer and Alfgeir spontaneously flees because he cannot reach the weapons, which he carries on his wagon because the merchandise is packed all on top. The guy runs after him, he is damn fast. Alfgeir, on the other hand, is not used to the race. In his job he only has to be fast in his head, but not in his legs. He can already hear the other guy's breath behind him. A blow from his sword rips his cap off his head, and he is also pushed forward by this blow, so that he falls headfirst onto the path. Immediately he picks himself up again when the next blow is already coming at him. Quickly Alfgeir pulls his head in and throws himself to the side. The next blow will be the last. Then the fellow raises his sword again - but at the same moment he is hit in the head by a Franziska, a throwing axe, and torn to the side by the force of the impact; he falls to the ground with his sword and remains lying there. The throwing axe killed him immediately. It penetrated the back of his temple. Now Alfgeir looks around. He sits on the ground and is still slightly dazed from the blow to the head.

A warrior comes leisurely towards him, raising his hand in greeting: "Greetings, I hope you are not too badly hurt? He reaches out his hand to Alfgeir and pulls him up. He points to the recumbent man: "This man on the ground is a Christian, and for him we are all his enemies. Look, the second fellow has already run away and left his horse. Pretty stupid people, if you ask me."

"I am Arild," the warrior introduces himself and continues: "We are not far from my village. I offer you hospitality and will accompany you." Arild bends down and takes his Franziska back. He wipes it off on the clothes of the slain man and puts it back into his belt.

Alfgeir finds his language again and answers: "I am Alfgeir, the merchant. I thank you for your courageous deed. You are truly a great warrior. I gladly accept your hospitality. But allow me to thank you. I will show you my goods and you may choose whatever you wish. If you do not find anything, I will offer you wine. It is a drink for warriors, and we can celebrate together."

"Later, come first, we'll put the fool on your cart and take the horse. The horse is reward enough for me. I will examine the man to see if he has anything else on him that is worth keeping. But first, let me see your wound." Arild takes a good look at Alfgeir's head. " It doesn't look very dangerous. We'll show it to our Druid. He's very good at healing, and in a few days, it will be forgotten. If the Druid says you can drink with me, we can celebrate with your wine." Thereupon Arild throws the guy on the wagon and his sword after it, while Alfgeir picks up his cap

Alfgeir emerges from the memories: Yes, that's how they had met, and it turned into a good friendship. Now he has come to Schmeessen again and is happy to celebrate with his friend and lifesaver again.

"Come over here, my wife wants to see you." Arild waves him into the house. Alfgeir stands up, he is slim but taller than most people and has to tilt his head slightly to enter the house.

"Hello, here I am again. Alfgeir, the far-traveled man. I'm happy to see you again." He makes a slight bow, which shows respect for the woman.

Blue, intelligent eyes are staring at him. A little smile is on her face. She is as tall as her husband and of stately figure, slim but powerful. She too must be physically very strong.

She...