Fate of the Arrow (eBook)

Shel Pais (Autor)

eBook Download: EPUB

2019 | 1. Auflage
367 Seiten
Windy City Publishers (Verlag)
978-1-941478-77-6 (ISBN)

Infos

A young man, forbidden by law to even own weapons, dreams of becoming a knight to avenge the murder of his mother and defend his people. When he saves the life of the Baron of York, he abandons his old existence, blending in to learn new customs and maintain a dangerous secret. A conniving abbot learns the truth, threatening to expose the young man if his family does not agree to the abbot's hidden agenda. While earning the baron's favor and being relentlessly pursued by the baron's daughter, the aspiring young warrior must do everything to conceal his identity -- for he is not Donald as everyone knows him, but David, a Jew. And discovery would be fatal.

Textauszug

PEOPLE BEGAN TO STIR AS the town, its noises and smells, sprang to life. Fresh milk from the cowherd, fresh bread from the baker, and fresh eggs from the egg seller were all typical. A few women came out to make some purchases, but otherwise activity was limited. The sun beamed, and only a few clouds interrupted the sky’s endless deep blue. A light breeze rustled the leaves in an isolated tree. It was a Friday spring morning like any other.

It was not much of a town. While there were several stone houses, most resembled huts, with thatched roofs and not much else. Some were inhabited by some of Baron Geoffrey’s servants, who paid only slightly less for their housing than they earned from him since he owned the town and, in many ways, the people who worked for him. At least their families never went hungry. The baron always ate quite well, insisting on freshly made dishes at every meal. More often than not, there were table scraps for the servants to bring home.

West End was named for its location at the western side of Northampton, not far from the baron’s castle. The town was unique from many other towns in one way—it contained a Jewish population of thirty families, as well as a small synagogue. More than one hundred years before, a Jewish physician who happened to be passing through saved the life of the baron, who insisted the physician stay. He sent for his family, and gradually more families settled there as well, even when succeeding barons were not as friendly to the Jews.

David did not want to get up. It was time to prepare for the morning prayer service, Shacharit, before cheder. Unlike most of the other boys in the Jewish community of West End, David hated going to services. He did not know why, but somehow none of the prayers or what the rabbis said they were supposed to mean made any sense to him. Why must the Christians, or at least most of them, hate us? If God is so kind and loving, why is there so much misery? He could not answer these questions and did not know anyone who could.

Certainly, his father could not. David often would get into heated debates with him. Mordecai was like all the other men David knew. Devotion to God and daily prayers, morning, afternoon, and night, was his life, while loving his family and working very hard for very little money to keep them fed.

David was much taller and stronger than the other boys. At fourteen, he already was five foot eight, and still growing. He could run faster and throw a stone much farther than even the eighteen-year-olds. He also looked a little different from the others in the area known by the Christians as Jewtown. His sister Rachel was three years younger, and they looked nothing alike. Rachel somewhat resembled their brother Benjamin, who was twelve. Why didn’t he? While that always puzzled him, he felt he was the best looking in the family, so he did not think too much about it.

Unlike the other boys, David was not afraid to defend himself when provoked or when he saw one of his friends or neighbors made fun of or worse by the Christian boys. Even the Christian men learned David probably could beat them in a fight and so he was usually left alone.

The baron had never come to West End, and David had never been inside the castle. His father had been there several times. As an apothecary, he helped ill or wounded men-at-arms and had cured the baron’s brother when no one else could. As a reward, the baron gave Mordecai a few gold pieces and a barrel of wine, which had made an impression on David. Perhaps the baron was not like most of those in authority.

David did see the baron joust once, and he never forgot it. He was about ten at the time and had gone with his father to watch a tournament. He loved the pageantry, the colorful banners, the heraldry, the glamour of it all. He wanted to be part of it. But that was impossible. Jews could not own weapons or armor or become warriors. Jews were not allowed to fight. It was forbidden. That was something else David could not understand, and questions frequently ran through his head. What are the Christians afraid of? That we would revolt and take over? There are so few of us and we are scattered. Why can’t our people have the right to defend ourselves?

Baron Geoffrey’s attitude was not the norm. Persecution of Jews in England was commonplace, but had been rare in West End because Baron Geoffrey had followed the king’s edict that all Jews belonged to the king, and therefore an attack on one of them was the same as attacking the king. That was another thing that David could not understand. How could he belong to the king? He was not a slave. He did not feel he belonged to anyone.

“David,” his father said. “Time to get up. It’s almost time to go to Shul.”

“Father, you know I don’t want to go.”

“David, my son. Please do not argue. We must go. It is our duty. It is our life.”

“Why, Father? What will happen if we do not? Will the earth tremble? Will the sea drown us? Will the soldiers come and kill us? It seems they’ll do that anyway. Since God does not listen, why should we continue to worship him?”

“David, no one knows better than I the difficulty in continuing one’s faith after tragedy. I cannot explain or even truly understand why God would allow these things to happen. But our people have continued to pray and follow our customs for thousands of years under tremendous adversity. So many have tried to destroy us, but we are still here, and they are not. Does that not affect you at all? Can you not see that we must remain true to our faith or we are no better than those who want to destroy us, and ultimately that will help them win?”

“I understand that, Father. I will go for you, but my heart is not in it. I will not disgrace you. I love and respect you too much. I also will go for mother, as I remember how important our Jewish life was to her. That’s something that makes my blood boil. I want to avenge her death, and I want those Christian maggots who killed her to know that a Jew is the one who is doing it. Someday I will find them.”

“Stop!” Mordecai said. “No more talk of revenge or killing. It is not our way, and we have no means. God, in his time, will avenge your mother.”

“You don’t really believe that, Father, do you? The baron and the sheriff did nothing. What will God do? Our prayers fall on deaf ears.”

David could tell that his father was getting upset. He also thought his father was beginning to look older than his forty-year-old body, his hair and beard graying, and even his medium build appeared shorter.

“I’m sorry, Father. I don’t want to upset you. I won’t speak of this again. Let’s go to Shul together.”

“I understand your frustration. I really do. This is just how it is. We must live as best we can, keeping our traditions and faith as our forefathers did. We must not antagonize the Christians. Things have been relatively calm for the past two years. God willing, it will stay that way.”

David just nodded his head. He knew he could not change his father’s mind. If only there was a way…

The rest of Mordecai’s household stirred as he and David dressed and prepared to leave. Benjamin and Rachel awoke, dressed, and prepared a breakfast of bread, cheese, and smoked fish for all of them.

As they walked to Shul, neither David nor his father spoke. David was immersed in thought. One truth repeated in his head—this is not the kind of life I want.

Baron Henry de Percy was quite ill. A burly man over six feet tall, approaching forty-two years old, with brown eyes, medium-length black hair, a short beard, a deep voice, and a temper to match, he had come down with a fever that would not break. The monk who had tried to bleed and cure him for almost a week with several foul-smelling and tasting medications, as he called them, was trembling.

“You’re an incompetent fool!” the baron screamed at him, in as loud a voice as he could muster in his condition. “I should have you whipped. Get out of here!” The monk quickly bowed and left the baron’s chamber.

“Bryce, come here, boy.”

“I’m here, my lord,” replied the baron’s page.

“Go fetch Lady Eleanor. I believe she’s in the kitchen.”

“At once, my lord.” Bryce hurried out to find the baron’s wife. He ran down the stone stairs to the main castle floor, through the great hall and out towards the back to the castle’s kitchen. Lady Eleanor was there, instructing the cook.

“My lady,” he said, bowing, unable to mask his shortness of breath, “my lord baron requests your presence immediately.”

“Has there been any change in his condition?”

“I don’t think so, my lady. He demanded the monk leave immediately and ordered me to get you right away.”

“Very well. Lucinda, I will return shortly. You may begin the meal as instructed.” The cook bowed and returned to her work. Lady Eleanor and Bryce made their way through the castle to the baron’s and her chamber.

“Honestly, Henry,” she said, “it smells vile in here. We must do something about it. You will never recover if we don’t. Bryce, get one of the servants to clean and...

Produkt-Details

• Erscheint lt. Verlag: 1.2.2019
• Sprache: englisch
• Themenwelt: Literatur ► Historische Romane
• ISBN-10: 1-941478-77-8 / 1941478778
• ISBN-13: 978-1-941478-77-6 / 9781941478776