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The boat let off a low thump as it softly hit the side of the dock. The sun rose above the ocean just enough to disappear into the dark clouds that the wind had carried in from the east. A light rain fell on both the peninsula and the two hooded monks dressed in grey robes, who Prolur assumed were his welcoming party.
Freido and his crew ran about on the ship, and one of them jumped ashore carrying one end of a thick rope that he tied to a metal pole at the end of the dock with a couple of twists. Prolur had taken the time to gather his belongings as they made their approach. As soon as the boat had been securely fastened to the poles of the dock, he swung his bag over his right shoulder and walked onto it.
The two monks walked towards him and pulled back their hoods. One of them halted, and the other one continued towards Prolur with his arms wide open. He was a man in his early thirties with chestnut brown hair. He was tall but very thin with a pale complexion making him appear quite sickly. He smiled with his entire mouth—so wide that his mouth seemed to stretch from ear to ear. He stopped just as Prolur walked off the dock and put his hands on his shoulders.
“Sir Prolur di Sangior,” he exclaimed. “It is an honor to meet you. I am Elden, the haugén of this soon-to-be-completed monastery.” He put his right arm around Prolur’s shoulders and began leading him down a dirt path, which rapidly turned to mud and led to the stone building with the tower. “I hope your journey was pleasant, Sir Prolur—” Elden continued.
“Father Prolur,” he interjected sternly. “I am no longer a knight, Haugén, and yes, the journey was a pleasant one.”
“You need not use such a formal title with me, Brother. I have a feeling you will hold as important a place as I here, and the only difference between us would be the title.”
They had reached the second monk, a shorter man, who seemed to be almost the same age as Prolur with thinning dark hair and a thin mustache. He offered to take the bag, and Prolur let him do so.
“My name is Father Laster,” he said as he put the bag over his shoulder.
“Brother Laster is a student of weather,” Elden explained. “He is trying to document the workings of the gods who control our weather.”
“I am sorry the conditions are not better, Brother Prolur,” Father Laster continued. “But it is the rainy season, and I do not need to explain to you the weather we suffer from here in Saurania.”
“That is true, you need not,” Prolur replied as he thought back to the many rainy days and nights he had spent on the plains of Saurania during the war.
Elden smiled at them both. “We will give you a tour of your new home, Brother,” he said. “But first, we have some business to discuss in my quarters, if you please.” Elden led Prolur towards the monastery again. Prolur turned his head to the dock behind him and gave Freido a nod as he stood on the boat looking at him. Freido saluted the monk and smiled his wide smile.
The path led between two buildings that were still under construction and to a couple of marble steps, which, in turn, led to a large wooden door. The door was covered in carvings that had yet to be completed. Elden led him through the door and into a dimly lit corridor. This corridor spilled out into a larger room containing three openings without doors. The one farthest to the right contained a staircase, but where the other two led Prolur couldn’t tell. Laster departed to the right, excusing himself and telling them he had morning prayers to tend to.
The second doorway led into Elden’s private room—a fairly large one with a set of tall windows at the far end. There were no torches lit, but light, due to the overcast day, seeped in through the windows and gave it an air of dimness. In the low light, one could tell that the room was sparsely furnished. A desk stood in front of the windows, and a wood cupboard stood against the right-hand wall. On the left wall hung a giant tapestry, what it portrayed was impossible to say in the dim light.
Elden pulled out a chair and gestured for Prolur to sit and then walked over to the cupboard as he did so.
“I took the liberty of importing some Dourian wine,” he said as he opened the cupboard and produced a brown bottle. “I would be very honored if you joined in a glass. I have been informed that it is your preferred brand.” Prolur nodded at Elden as he turned back around holding the bottle and two crystal glasses. “The rituals are very important to Laster. Even if we are the only people living here so far,” Elden continued as he poured the red wine into the glasses. “The first new monks will be arriving in a week’s time. They will be coming from all over Haugar. There are even some new converts from here in Saurania.”
“I was told that the Sauranians were still not agreeing with our views.”
“They still refuse to accept Haugar as the supreme deity. They hold on to the lesser gods.” Elden handed Prolur one of the glasses. “That and many of them are turning to ideas from the north and the Dryconian Islands. Even so, the few who we manage to convert become very pious, and it is our duty to guide them so that they might go forth and help us spread the word.” Elden sat and put his glass down on the table.
Prolur took a tiny sip of the wine and held it in his mouth for a moment to savor every delicious drop of it before he swallowed.
“We were very delighted indeed to hear that you would be added to our convent, Brother. Even if the circumstances may not be the best, I can assure you that the information will remain between the two of us.” Elden smiled and raised his glass at Prolur and then drank. “There are some people who wish to greet you. Among them is the Lord of Saurania—a title I believe would have come to you had you not retired.”
“I would not know, Brother,” Prolur replied. “They did not offer me any such title at the time.”
“Rumors then. They happen all the time.” Elden finished his wine, rose, and returned the bottle to its place. “Lord di Sauria is reported to be on his way as we speak, and he will most likely be here sometime in the next two days. He has been traveling around the land, resolving different issues.”
Prolur finished his glass and rose to hand it to Elden, who put it in the cupboard as well.
“I will show you to your room,” Elden said, “so that you may settle in before our grand tour.”
Prolur took his bag and followed Elden out, back into the corridor, and through the right doorway where Laster had disappeared earlier. Elden pointed to the stairs on the right.
“Those lead to the tower,” he explained.
“Why would a monastery need such a high tower?” Prolur asked.
“We did not choose it, Brother. If the choice had been mine, we would not have one. Lord di Sauria called for it. He said it would be a great lookout during times of war.”
“I see.” Prolur stroked his beard slowly.
“There are three guards stationed there at all times. His lordship is very concerned for our safety. Especially now, during the construction.”
They walked through the doorway and into a large room. It was like walking into the banqueting hall of the royal palace in the capital city of Tieten. The ceiling was supported by ornamental arches that climbed fifty feet up into the air, and huge stained-glass windows portrayed six gods in different scenes: The god of the sea, Aquile, gripping his spear and calming the waters; Destiana, the goddess of destiny, carrying an hourglass above her head; Quilo, the god of the afterlife, sitting on his ivory white throne; the creator god, Chachra, holding the essence of life in his hand, spreading it over the world; Ckan, the god of the sun, wearing a golden crown on his head; and the goddess of the seasons, Wexer, portrayed in her four shapes. In the center of the room, stood a high pedestal that rose almost twenty feet towards the ceiling. Standing on top of it was a statue of Haugar, gripping his sword and holding it so that the hilt was level with his eye, the tip pointing down at the ground.
A wood scaffold stood next to the pedestal, and it touched the ceiling. On it, Prolur thought he could see buckets, and on the ceiling itself were sketches of what was someday to be a great painting.
Apart from the scaffolding, only a long table furnished the room.
“Breathtaking is it not?” Elden rested his hands on the back of one of the chairs standing around the table. “Of course, it is not completed yet, but once the ceiling is done and all of the furniture has been moved in, I wish this to be used as the convent’s reception hall and where the brothers can gather at mealtimes.”
“It is very impressive, Brother Elden,” Prolur said. “Where are the workers?”
“They will be here later. They all live together outside Barnavor—the specialists that is. There are nearly a hundred Sauranian laborers from nearby villages and farms who also work for us.”
“Volunteers?”
“Persuaded by Lord di Sauria’s troops.” Elden gave Prolur a knowing wink. “Now let me show you your quarters, Brother.”
In either corner of the far wall were two doors, and Elden led Prolur to the right hand one.
“This door leads to a corridor of living quarters,” Elden explained as he opened it, “and the left one leads to a yet incomplete part of the monastery. It will in future contain kitchen areas and even washing facilities.”
They walked through the door and into a long corridor with several doors on either side. To the right, stood a spiral staircase leading up.
“There are ten rooms on either side,” Elden explained. “The staircase leads to another corridor like this one, and then there is yet another one above that. We have decided to place two brothers in each of the rooms.”
“The rooms have doors,” Prolur exclaimed in wonderment.
“I know it is somewhat unorthodox, Brother, but I believe that if a man is to share his room with another, he should at least have some privacy from the rest of the world.” Elden opened the first door on the left and motioned for Prolur to enter. “This will be your room, Brother.”
The room was much larger than his old cell—twice as large, in fact. It had no windows, but there was a nice bed with a mattress and sheets. A desk stood against the far wall equipped with candles, an inkhorn, and a quill. Opposite the bed stood a closet made from some dark wood.
“You and Brother Laster have rooms to yourselves. Laster’s room is located on the second floor. The two of you will act as haugéns of your corridors. The younger, less-experienced monks will be able to approach you with concerns and problems that may occur, religious or otherwise,” Elden continued.
Prolur walked inside the room, looked around, and dropped his bag atop the bed.
“It surpasses my previous accommodations.” He smiled and opened the closet door. The inside was of the same dark finished wood as the outer parts.
“I do not believe discomfort creates more pious men,” Elden said. “I also believe that brothers like Laster and yourself, who have so many duties around the monastery, should be able to relax comfortably in your own private quarters.”
Prolur agreed, walked over to the desk, and shuffled through a stack of papers. They were of the highest quality—the kind that was used for royal proclamations.
“If there is anything at all that you need do not hesitate to request it,” Elden continued. “I want this to become one of the most well-renowned convents in the known world.”
“Well, we are on our way.”
“Indeed. I will let you settle in and then I would be honored if you could join me for supper.”
“The honor would be mine.” Prolur bowed.
“I will see you then, Brother.” Elden returned the bow and disappeared down the corridor.
Prolur moved his bag from the bed, leaned it against the wall, and then lay on the mattress. He sunk down in the softness. He had never felt anything so comfortable in his entire life. This was something very different from the floor in his parents’ house, the swampy ground of the Sauranian marshland, or even the cot he was given as a general. It brought back memories of when he, as a young soldier, lay on the hills of Doneilan in the western greens of the country. Possibly the most beautiful place he had ever seen. He could once again feel the warm wind caress his body as the sun shone on him from a clear blue heaven, the babbling of a brook slowly moving beside his relaxed body. Being completely surrounded by wildflowers, wild horses, and the strangest birds he had ever seen.
“This might not be so bad,” he quietly whispered as he momentarily opened his eyes to view his new home.
He then shut them again and returned to the hills of Doneilan.