Tag: torture

Redemption

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…citizens as their wish and the iron fist of the church who keep the
minds and emotions of people under their control,” he said looking
deep in Magda’s eyes who showed her understanding as she nodded
her head and smiled at his comments.
“The one you’d have a hard time even talking about is the
power of the church over the lives of the people because it has been
so much entrenched in their essence as something they have received
from their ancestors and as such, they would never think of leaving
behind, let alone changing dramatically,” she underlined to Hermes.
“Yes, I agree; but what we inherited shouldn’t always be
accepted as a given and never evaluated, viewed by today’s standards
and beliefs and then accept it or reject it for something better. Think
of it, in today’s world, where you can communicate with anyone and
in such a short time, when you travel from one end of the Earth to the
other within a day, we still believe in such stupid ideas, and anachronistic
thoughts.”
“True, indeed, Hermes, but…” she added
“There shouldn’t be a but, Magda, look, in the old days, during
the seventh century BC, the Spartans had a law that forced mothers
to go and throw down the Kaiadas all their incomplete children, the
malformed, the kids with Down’s syndrome, etc. That was part of
our tradition too; however, we today don’t kill the malformed kids
or the ones with Down’s syndrome because we must understand that
human life is as valuable and indispensable, regardless of what form
it might have. Yet, we can’t get rid of the Christian tradition no matter
what. Tell me why it is so?”
Magda stared into his eyes and noticed the burning fire, which
could become a conflagration, a fire she loved to see; a fire she’d
agreed with, however, she chose her words very carefully.
“I believe what you said, but I also know how deeply entrenched
the whole idea of the church and how impossible it would be to effect
any change at this time of the nation’s history, especially under the
iron fist of the dictators…on the other hand, nothing is impossible
when one wants to fight for what one believes in.”

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Redemption

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The taste of her mouth aroused all his instincts, and he wanted
to touch this girl all over. However, they heard the clearing of the proprietor’s
throat and stopped. Hermes pulled back, and she gave him
her best smile, showing a straight line of teeth and a hungry tongue.
They stayed there for another half an hour, and then she
wanted to go.
“What would you like to do now? See a movie?”
He looked at his watch; it was eight o’clock. “Where do you like
to go?”
She suggested they go to see the latest movie in a cinema close
by, and he agreed. They walked to the cinema, and Hermes offered
her his arm. She took the chance and leaned toward him a bit more,
which Hermes loved. They got to the theatre and realized the place
was almost full, so they made their way to the balcony, where they
noticed that it was almost empty. They found two seats. He turned
to look at her, and she took the courage and offered him a long and
passionate kiss. His hunger for her body became evident. She took
his hand and placed it between her legs, a move he took even further
by sliding his hand up and touching her pubic hair. That made her
go wild. He didn’t let go, and the rubbing of his hand inside her
made her move her body left and right with such intensity that she
had an orgasm in a matter of seconds. She then found his erection
and played with him for a minute or two, but he wanted a lot more
than that.
“You like to go?” she asked.
“Where could we go?”
“I know a place.”
He wondered where this place might be, surely not her parents’
house.
“A friend of mine, she whispered, is out of town; I have the key
to her place.”

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Blood, Feathers and Holy Men

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“Those who left you on this shore caused you the pain you have had to suffer. I
am sorry. The raiders were Pequat. By their law and our own law, we had to leave and
let them take you or they could have destroyed our village and taken our children as
well. A Pequat mother lost a daughter just as Brown Bear lost his Namid.”
Bjorn stood up in anger, “How? Where?”
Ari also rose, painfully. “Who did this murder?“
White Eagle raised his hand for silence. “Word has spread from further toward the
warm lands that the serpent ship brought death among our neighbours. The Pequat
travelled far to where they camped last night. They lost warriors and have the right
to take the bravest from among you to replace lost sons and daughters. Your brave
singing saved your lives. Now our people have bought you back so you belong to us.”
Ari looked around to his companions, then he replied for all, “Thank you for our
lives. We will be your people. Your people will be our people.”
“Now,” said White Eagle, “you must eat and rest. You have done well.” He turned
to Rordan and placed a hand on his shoulder. “You have honoured us with your
bravery and with your music. We gave many gifts to have you back. The Pequat warriors
have named you Hototo Nikamu, Warrior Spirit Who Sings. Now you are our
Mountain Thrush, Hototo Nikamu, and you are free to fly as you will.”
When White Eagle left to go to his lodge, Brother Keallach spoke to Rordan, “If we
are to stay here forever, shouldn’t we talk to Father Finten, first?”
“Not on your bloody life.” Ula was angry. “He wasn’t ransomed. Shit! He wasn’t
even with us. He can go when he bloody well wishes. This is our decision. Rordan
has spoken for all and his word stands.”
Brother Ailan used his right hand to get to his feet. His left hand was heavily
wrapped in moss and balsam fir sap. Brother Rordan had learned of the healing
properties of balsam from Corn Mother and, having paused to gather sap and cones
on the return journey, had already applied resin to everyone’s burns and to Ailan’s
finger stump. Now Ailan stood to address his Brothers. “No matter what happens, do
not forget we are tied to Father Finten by our vow of obedience.”
“Maybe you are, if you choose to be. At least three of us are free to make our own
decisions.” Ula stomped out of the lodge and Bjorn and Ari followed after her.
Rordan looked at both Keallach and Ailan. “What do we do about Finten? Has
anyone seen him?”
For days, Finten roamed the headland, looking out to sea, afraid of what might
appear on that vast expanse, afraid and ashamed of what White Eagle and the First
Light People would think of him now. Why, when he knew he could be so brave,
did his knees buckle whenever he was faced with danger? He regretted that he had
not died with his Brothers. He was certain none of the companions had survived.
He’d heard the bloodcurdling shrieks as he cowered in the lodge. He’d seen blood
splattered on the ground outside the lodge. He’d seen the trails of blood where the
savages had dragged bodies into the woods, probably to be eaten at a gruesome victory
feast.
When the villagers returned and he saw that none had been wounded, much less
killed, he knew immediately he had been betrayed. The attack was not against the
village but only to capture and kill him and his Brothers and the other three.

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Redemption

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Everybody in the coffee shop gathered around him, even the
mayor. Demetre kicked his nephew’s foot to quieten him. He knew
that some people do not like to hear about change, especially in the
current political situation, where even the slightest change can trigger
a nationwide negative reaction from the politicians. However,
young Hermes didn’t want to lower the tone of his voice now that he
had their attention, because he wanted to teach these people some
ideas which might inspire them to fight against the system.
“Hey, Yanni, your father was looking for you,” someone yelled
from the open door, interrupting the whole conversation.
“Foti, get us another round of brandies,” Gerry yelled at the
proprietor, who nodded his head.
Hermes continued to explain to them that they could find
a good lawyer, who would write the rules of the co-op, elect a governing
body, and do whatever was necessary to start looking after
themselves and not just rely on the existing system to help them.
He referred to many examples from ancient days to today, trying to
connect them to their original roots. They listened. Some villagers
raised their eyebrows, others nodded their agreement, and others
simply carried on with their entertainment without paying attention
to the fired-up young Hermes.
The villager sitting next to Hermes was still not convinced:
“You think that an association like that is going to do a better job for
us?”
“Yes, definitely. Listen to this: when I go to Athens, I’ll find you
a good lawyer, then I’ll make sure before I go away, he gets in touch
with you guys, and you take it from there.”
Demetre gave him the signal to stop, as he was worried about
what the mayor was thinking about all this and what notes he
reserved in his mind as to who this information could be useful.
Hermes didn’t listen to his uncle and continued to tell the villagers
how to form the co-op and what their rights were. “But what you are
telling us to do, Hermes, is nothing more than a communist idea,
isn’t it?” the mayor butted in.

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Redemption

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…dedicated themselves to the benefit of the people’s lives. Ah, my poor
motherland…”
“Yes, I know. But we’d better go now.”
“Yes, let’s go. We might take the other road over the small
marsh, and hopefully we could come across some ducks, then we
could go by my father’s greenhouse and see what he has accomplished.
Sounds okay?”
“Yes, let’s get going then.”
They followed the road to the marsh. There were a few dark
clouds on the north horizon, clouds that lingered in the sky, indecisive
clouds, unsure of where they’d like to run; there was light wind
blowing from the north, and the weather could change very quickly.
A fierce storm could come from the north, which will drench everything
in a matter of minutes.
“We’d better be quick, Uncle. I don’t like the looks of those
clouds.”
“I don’t think this weather is going to change any time soon,
Son. Why are you so concerned?”
But his nephew repeated,
“We must be quick, my uncle. I don’t like these clouds.”
As they entered the olive grove, Hermes caught sight of a wild
dove at the top of a tree. He aimed and shot, quickly and with confidence:
he succeeded. He reloaded and ran to pick up the bird, which
was still fluttering its wings on the ground. The dog reached the bird
first. He approached the bird to pick it up with his mouth, but when
he came close to it, the bird fluttered and scared the dog away, barking
and wagging his tail.
Hermes bent down and reached for the fluttering bird; he could
see the huge pain in its eyes. Suddenly, the strange shudder overtook
his body again, like when he was aboard the ship. “What is it?” he
wondered, and suddenly, he didn’t feel like hunting anymore.
The wind started blowing stronger now, and Hermes convinced
Demetre that they should head to his father’s greenhouse.

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Blood, Feathers and Holy Men

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“Here, we can hear God’s voice in the tree tops, in the rippling waters, in the cry
of the loon. Until you can lower yourself to our level and treat us as equals, there’ll
be very little dialogue.”
Father Finten fled to walk alone in the woods. Now Ailan came to find him there.
He had heard the conversation with Keallach and decided this was the best opportunity
to confirm what Keallach had already said about the relationship between priest
and Brothers.
“I have been wanting to talk to you, man to man, not as penitent to confessor,
for a very long time, ever since we first came to these shores. You are a hard man to
talk to. I do not want your judgments and I do not need your approval. I want your
trust and your love. You call me Brother but what does that really mean to you? Am
I like your own flesh and blood, or are you just being a distant father? Because you
are older than I, does not mean I should call you Father. Show me real love, and I’ll
gladly do so.”
Now Finten felt totally lost. He was unable to speak the thoughts that raced
through his mind. Ready to explode with grief and outrage, he turned and walked
quickly until he was deep in the forest. He needed time to think.
Finten did not return for the evening meal, not for prayers or bed, but stayed
away all night. Trusting that their priest would come back when he’d had time to
think these conversations over, the Brothers decided to overlook his absence. When
Finten did return to camp after three days, he did not say anything about what had
happened. The Brothers respected his silence, waiting to see if there’d be a difference
in their relationship with him, and life went on as before.

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Blood, Feathers and Holy Men

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Fears and Frustrations


Brother Keallach was a good listener when Rordan needed to vent his frustration
and Rordan definitely needed to talk now.
“I just cannot understand why Father Finten has such a distrust of my interest in
medicine. Well, perhaps I do know why. Father Gofraidh was the same.
“I travelled for two years with a physician before coming to the monastery. In
my travels, I met many good doctors who had studied with the Moors. But because
those healers were not Christian, their works were forbidden. ‘What is not of God is
of the devil,’ Father Gofraidh preached to his novices.”
Rordan whipped at branches as the Brothers walked. “The Moors have a wonderful
knowledge of medicine and mathematics and astronomy. But do not tell this to
the Church Fathers. Only by chance was I able to learn the little I know about herbal
medicines from an ancient Italian monk who had learned his craft from a healing
woman in Italy. The healing woman was later condemned as a witch and put to
death. Can you believe that? Put to death for helping people. Corn Mother knows
more about herbs and medicines than anyone I have ever met in all my travels. And
Finten does not want me to associate with her.”
Rordan grew more agitated as he walked faster until Brother Keallach had to stop
to catch his breath. Rordan stopped and turned to face his companion but continued
speaking even as Keallach held his chest and breathed like a bellows.
“Because of this mistrust, the knowledge we have is hidden away and forbidden.
Did you know, Brother, the Church in Éirinn has more learning locked up in monasteries
than anywhere else in Christendom yet illness is still regarded as being caused
by sin? Even babies are only allowed healing by prayer. I believe in prayer, but this is
cruelty. It’s ridiculous; bloody ridiculous.”
Rordan picked up a small rock and threw it forcefully into a high arc. Then he
continued striding.
“An infected throat or a bad cough has to be treated with blessed candles and
prayers to Saint Blaise. Saint Roch is invoked to cure the plague. Saint Nicaise does a
poor job of protecting against smallpox, and kings are called upon to cure skin diseases
with the Royal Touch, so commoners are seldom healed of shingles or leprosy.”
Rordan stopped and sat on an ancient tree limb. His companion, thankful for the
pause, plopped down beside him.
“Despite all the knowledge available in our monasteries, monks are still forbidden
to perform any kind of surgery. Cutting into the ‘temple of the Holy Spirit’ is a sin of
murder. In the words of the late Father Gofraidh, ‘Surgery of any kind imperils the
souls of both surgeon and patient.’ So barbers and charlatans cut people open for
profit because real physicians are forbidden by Church hierarchy.”
Rordan put his hands on his head, exhausted from his outburst.

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Redemption

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…when he took it in as though he were touching the Bible. The mayor
examined it with great curiosity while fellow villagers looked over
his shoulder to get a good look at this piece of paper, too.
“So, this is a diploma,” said the envious mayor when he handed
it back to Hermes.
“Yes, this is the diploma and here is my award.” Hermes showed
him another piece of paper with golden letters and official stamps
honouring him for his excellent standing in the class.
“You also received an award, Hermes?” The mayor’s eyes widened,
“Bravo! My congratulations once again!”
He looked at the paper more closely and asked.
“So, what are you going to do now, young Dragakis? Become an
economist? What does an economist do?”
Hermes gave them a brief explanation of what an economist
was and how he had a scholarship to study abroad for two years and
then would be teaching at the university. The mayor and the others
had a hard time understanding what all these meant.
“Scholarship to go to another country and study,” the mayor
said as if talking to himself. “Which country are you heading for?”
“Canada.”
The crowd turned to look at one another, with awe written upon
their faces. They felt quite proud of the son of George Dragakis; not
many young men from the area got the chance to go to the city and
study, never mind accomplishing what Hermes had, this far, this fast.
Demetre’s cheeks blushed thinking of this young man who had
brought their family and ancestors this honour of achievement.
Smiling, Demetre took Hermes away from the crowds.
“Time for us to go to my brother’s place.”
So, they said their goodbyes and started their walk to the house
at the other end of the village. They followed a narrow pathway and,
in a few minutes, arrived at the house. As they approached his father’s
dog, the hound started to bark. The uncle and his nephew were not
even inside the fence when his mother, as though by instinct, came
out of the house and saw them.

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Blood, Feathers and Holy Men

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Rordan waited for an answer but none came. Ula merely smiled to see his thumb
caress the top of her hand.
Suddenly aware of what he was doing, Rordan withdrew his hand.
“My problem was with my father,” Rordan said. “He used to get the local bullies
after me just to toughen me up. Then when I wouldn’t fight with them, he’d beat me
with a cudgel. I finally ran away and travelled with a surgeon to the south of France.
I learned a lot from the Saracen doctors in Córdoba but I refused to become a Mohommedan
and had to leave Spain or be made a slave. The only way I could return
to Éirinn was to travel with soldiers, so the very life I wished to avoid was forced on
me. Still, like you, I survived.”
It was through singing that they came to a mutual understanding and respect. Ula
had a beautiful voice and their harmonies echoed through the wooded hills. Sometimes
they made up songs where Rordan would sing the first part and Ula would
complete the phrase:
Thank you birds … for your beautiful songs
Thank you sun … for your warming smile
Thank you trees … for your perfume in the air
Thank you breeze … for blowing through my hair
Thank you God … for bringing us together
Rordan longed to tell Ula of his growing love for her but couldn’t bring himself to
do so. What if she rejected him and thought him strange like Finten and the Brothers
did? He didn’t want to lose their newfound friendship. Ula also had her own feelings
of love but, for the same reason, couldn’t share them with Rordan.
After four frigid months at the hunting camp, the band moved back to their home
by the sea, convinced at last that the devil ship would not return. Upon arrival in the
village, the community of Natives gathered to build a special lodge for the White
Devils who had become Friends of the First Light People.
Through the coldest days, when muted conversations and irritating coughs grated
through the smoky lodges of the hunting camp, Brother Rordan had sat apart, whittling
a piece of deer breastbone with a small flint blade. Now he presented a Celtic
cross to Father Finten. For the first time the young poet could remember, his mentor
offered genuine praise and appreciation, acknowledging this expression of his art.
Finten raised his eyebrows, smiled, and took and blessed the cross. “This is truly
beautiful, Brother. I think your cross should stand above the entrance to our lodge,
that all may see the symbol and be reminded of our crucified Saviour.”
The cross became a meaningful emblem, not only to the Brothers, but also to
everyone in the village. When Bjorn and Ari expressed interest, Finten talked about
Christ. The two Norsemen had been exposed to Christian teachings as children but
had understood little. Finten was careful not to overstep the bonds of friendship by
aggressive preaching.
White Eagle and the First Light people had their own interpretation of the sacred
symbol and likened it to the medicine wheel, which represented the sacred number
four. White Eagle explained that there are four directions and four winds…

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Arrows

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“Why do you want me to baptize your baby again?” I asked her,
sipping from a cup of hot chocolate sweetened with honey. I knew
well enough that was the usual procedure, but she probably didn’t.
The house was not well located. It was on the perimeter of the
town, near the place where the Indians had made their temporary
encampment. We sat on rickety chairs at the table in her kitchen, her
slave minding the baby outside. I could see them through a window
that was nothing more than a squared opening in the wattle and
daub wall.
Josefa had aged since I last saw her; left behind was the young
woman that shivered every time the monkeys howled or a jaguar
roared in the mountains. This was a weathered woman with hands
reddened and swollen from work. But in her big brown eyes, the girl
lingered, and she could still make me shrink inside when she burst
into tears.
“What? What is it, Josefa?”
She sobbed and wiped her face with the edge of her apron.
“Nothing, really. I’m very happy to see you, Friar Salvador. I
missed you terribly.”
“So am I to see you, but tell me, why are you crying?”
I didn’t have time for this. I was tired from the time spent writing
the letter for Losada and worried by their content. I reached out and
held her hand.
“Josefa, is there something you wish to tell me?”
She stopped sobbing and looked at me, deadly serious, then
glanced through the window.
“Only if it is as a confession. All I tell you in confession is secret,
isn’t it?”
“Yes.”
I was not expecting her to speak so plainly.
“He circumcised my baby. He spoke in a strange tongue and he
circumcised my baby. He is a Jew! And now my baby is a Jew as
well! Am I damned?”

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