The Scribe

Gradually the color returned to her cheeks. Her eyelids fluttered and—following a few moments of uncertainty—they opened, revealing reddened eyes with irises reflecting a beautiful syrupy hue.

Alcuin smiled and said hello to the young woman before tracing the sign of the cross on her forehead. Then he helped her lift her head, placing a cushion under it.

“Theresa,” Alcuin whispered.

She acknowledged him with a breath. In front of her she saw the bony figure of a man at peace.

“Welcome home,” said the monk.


Alcuin endeavored to explain all that happened since their arrival, but Theresa did not understand. Her head felt as if it had been kicked by a horse, and the story of a miracle was so confusing it seem like it had been taken from the dream of a lunatic. She lifted her head and asked for a little water. Then, when she heard the tale again, she looked at Alcuin as though he were a stranger. At that moment Wilfred came in and Alcuin whispered to Theresa to play along.

“Theresa, do you recognize me?” the count asked, pleased to have found her awake.

The young woman looked at the dogs and nodded.

“God rejoices at your return, as do we, of course. It has been a sad time, but you have nothing to worry about now. Soon everything will go back to how it was.”

Theresa smiled timidly.

In response Wilfred gave her a forced grin. “I would like you to try to remember. Do you recall what happened in the fire?”

Theresa looked at Alcuin as if seeking his approval. The monk said nothing, so she responded with a stammer.

“Then I imagine you will want to tell us about it,” he said, his face moving closer to hers. “Did you see the Redeemer? Did you discern His appearance? Do not worry if you can’t respond—it was He who returned you to us.”

Theresa thought the question odd and wasn’t sure how to respond.

Alcuin stepped in. “Perhaps she needs to rest. She’s confused. She hit her head and hardly remembers anything,” he declared.

“Very well… that’s understandable. But as soon as she recovers, let me know. Remember that it was me who buried her charred remains.”

Wilfred said a halfhearted good-bye before leaving the room. Meanwhile, Alcuin examined the contraption that transported him. He handled the dog chair like a seasoned cart driver, easily negotiating the thresholds and loose tiles that got in his way. He noticed that the contraption had a chamber pot housed in the rear to assist his bowel movements. The skill with which he handled the hounds told him that he had been in that condition for some years.

Alcuin turned to Theresa. The young woman was giving him an inquisitive look.

“Look,” he said, sitting beside her. “The ways of the Lord take strange twists and turns: tortuous paths that sometimes confuse the foolish, but not those who have devoted their lives to following His doctrine. It is obvious that your time has not come yet. Perhaps because you have not yet made yourself worthy of the Kingdom of Heaven, though this does not mean you cannot achieve it.”

Theresa was feeling increasingly confused. She did not comprehend what was happening, nor why they were insisting she had been resurrected.

“And my parents?” she asked.

“Your stepmother awaits in the antechamber. You will see her soon.”

Theresa slowly lifted herself up. Her head was pounding.

She recognized Wilfred’s room. She had been there on occasion to meet her father, but it had never seemed so cold and desolate.

Alcuin helped her sit up. She touched her head, noticing a painful bump. Alcuin explained that she had hit her head during a skirmish with bandits. As the memory came back to her, Theresa inquired after Izam and Hoos. Alcuin informed her they were both busy unloading the ship.

“I want to see my parents,” she insisted.

Alcuin asked her to be patient. He told her that Rutgarda seemed traumatized, and they still had not found Gorgias. Theresa became agitated, but Alcuin soothed her, saying that he would speak to Wilfred to learn what had happened. As for the miracle, he confessed that he had been forced to make it up.

“Korne would not have accepted any other explanation. I know it was blasphemous, but at that moment, I could not think of anything more suitable.”

“But why a miracle?”

“Because, in the words of Wilfred, they had found your charred remains.”

“My remains?”

“A body they thought was yours, and which apparently still wore a blue dress that Gorgias recognized as the one you had on that day.”

“That poor girl.” She recalled again how she had not been able to do anything to save her. “I tried to protect her with my wet dress,” she explained, relating the details of what had happened during the fire.

“I imagined that’s what anyone with half a brain would have done, but not the notables that inhabit this town. That was why I thought it would be helpful if these notables saw the hand of God in your return. And I also considered the fact that Korne the parchment-maker is eager to avenge his son’s death. For the time being, he has sworn to respect you, but I do not believe that will stop him for long.”

He informed her that he would tell her stepmother to come in and see her. “One last thing.” He gave Theresa a grim look. “If you want to live, don’t speak to anyone about the miracle.”





25

Alcuin was settled into a cell in the southern wing of the fortress, near Izam’s room and adjoining Flavio’s. From his window he could see the Main Valley, with the foothills of the Rh?n Mountains in the background. On the fields, the snow was beginning to thin, but on the peaks it continued to gleam as if the mountains had been given a coat of paint. He noticed the strange formations scattered around the landscape wherever the forests became sparse. Observing them more closely, he noted the presence of a myriad of cavities bored into brownish mounds. They were similar to mining tunnels, and as he dressed he wondered whether they were, in fact, mining tunnels and if they were in use.

He went down to dinner after None and met with Wilfred in the armory, accompanied by Theodor, the giant he used as a draft animal when the dogs were locked away.

The count seemed pleased to see him and impatient to learn more about the miracle, but Alcuin was only interested in talking about the parchment that Charlemagne had commissioned Wilfred to prepare. He decided to wait until the giant retired to his chambers before raising the subject. However, Theodor remained impassive behind the chair for a long time until Wilfred finally ordered him to leave.

“A veritable mountain in trousers! I have never seen a man so large,” said Alcuin.

“And loyal as a dog. All he’s missing is the wagging tail. So tell me, are your chambers to your liking?”

“Certainly. The views are excellent.”

“Some wine?”

Alcuin declined the offer and sat down in front of the count, waiting for the right moment to bring up the subject that pressed on his mind. “Do you lock away the dogs at night?” he asked.

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