Post by Lord General Maahes Asad-Aziem on Sept 11, 2010 0:34:54 GMT -6
Maahes:
In the following days Maahes spent his time in the Valley, living in the harvest with the passing lives so easily counted. This was what he fought for--this land here was what he bled for. However, the day had come again to return to the city, to hold up the image of the mighty Lion even though his years were numbered, and there was but only a careful pain that ached in his heart for what once was. Ramadan made the days longer, as his stomach turned with the desire to be filled, but this was what the fasting was about. Was it not? This simple sacrifice was enough to justify a year of sin, and though lives were stolen by the edge of his sword he did not feel himself a sinner. This coming year would be a new start, and with this he was finally starting to see the light on the horizon. 'Good Day General.' He would nod his head, while passing upon the back of his horse through the streets on his way to the arena. (d
Brother Diarmuid:
What would the Queen's Lion make of it, when he would see another figure - somewhat familiar - in the crowd? It would be the plain, home-spun habit that would mark out Brother Diarmuid, if the General remembered him. The man was smiling as he left the back door of the Briar Rose, carrying in his arms a large basket filled near bursting with the left of repast from the previous evenings' card game/banquet. "Bless you, m'lady," Brother Dairmuid said to Roise, before he turned and headed in to the street. It seemed as though he had found a permanent lodging now, for he was lacking his walking stick and bed roll. One wondered if the Queen's Lion felt an urge to mock the man of cloth for his gluttony? Perhaps it might even be justified, when Brother Diarmuid picked a heel of bread from the basket and began to eat it as he walked. Mayhap he would even cross near the Queen's Lion. Despite their rather rough first encounter, Brother Diarmuid would smile up to the Lion. There was a merry "Good day, sir!" and he was on his way. But as he went along? The good brother would turn, heading in to the poorer areas... And then? Brother Dairmuid would set about his task. Many were those forced in to begging....whether maimed by war...leprosy.... or birth. And many were those that would see the good brother come before them, handing out what was likely the only meal of the day for many. (D)
Maahes:
The Lion would indeed see the man, and in that instance the stoic mountain of a man found himself intrigued. It was fate he felt as his thoughts had been upon the very man before him as he road his way from the Valley. He had thought of the words he had said, of a sign from God. He was right. There wouldn't be any reason to mock the man, but Maahes would in fact turn his horse slowly to follow the Brother into the streets of the poor . Here, Maahes had spent much of his time, but often he felt himself at waste of his time. He had given their men a place in the army and a living to the families that lost. However, it was here in the grief of the war did turn minds towards the weak..or so he felt. "You break that bread to feed all? Like the story in your book, Brother?" Perhaps it had been a legitimate question, but something of Maahes's tone was often misunderstood. He sounded a bit harsh, but there was a hint of curiosity on the Queen Lion's brow. (d
Brother Diarmuid:
As the Queen's Lion followed him, it was clear that Brother Diarmuid was not like those of the Christian clergy that Maahes had met before. Here, it seemed, was someone who did more than play lips service to the teachings of the Bible. Here was a man who seemed to lead by Jesus' example. It was certain that Brother Dairmuid was aware of the Queen's Lion following him - not many in this quarter owned a horse - but was content to let the Lion observe. It would be toward the end of his rounds, when there were only a few loafs of bread left in the basket, that Maahes would ask his question. Brother Diarmuid would turn, to look up and regard the Moor. There was still a smile. "Mm," before Brother Diarmuid turned and continued. "As well as I can...." After the last loaf of bread had been handed to a maimed beggar, the good brother would hold his smile... until the beggar went off. Then he sighed. "I am not Christ....and my basket is empty now." There was a slow shake of his head. He turned to face the Lion, looking up at the mounted man. "But, yes. I do what I can to feed and clothe the multitudes." (D)
Maahes:
Maahes would regard the man lightly, taking note of great action upon the way he carried himself, the motion in his shoulders, and the way even he held the basket. "Giving bread is a woman's job, Brother. You are a man of god, but you are still as Man. You subject yourself when life could be earned here?" He would look once again over the street before them, before letting his feet touch the ground, and the horse exchanged hands with one the men on the streets. They would dare not take the General's war horse, for what would he ride if not this beast? Would their lands still be protected? The Moor had a legend here, that was without doubt, and in it there was a fate well known. Sometimes it was easy to forgive his simple mind, but others? "You will excuse this?" He motioned to his own chest with a hand as large the vessel inside it. "But I do not know people well." meaning he did not read them at all, but of battle trained he knew well, like the lines on the back of his hand. He took the hilt of his blade, pulling it from its hold to balance it over his palm in a relaxed manner, but was it a threat? "You..have always..been a man of God?" He asked him as rolled the blade over his wrist.With a roll of the blade, it would move from one hand to another sweeping in a sound that could have rivaled a storm wind with the smooth delivery of its display. This. Was a test. (d
Brother Diarmuid:
Brother Diarmuid could not help but smile, as the General rather blithely informed him that he was doing 'woman's work'. There was a gentle reproach in his voice, as he said, "When I undertake this task I do so in the service of Christ. Pro uilitate hominum." An English translation would be 'For the service of mankind'. "Knowing that, there is no task that is disgraceful to me..... even if it is 'woman's work'. Whether it be handing out bread who do not have the coin to feed themselves.... to washing the feet of a leper." These were no mere words. For, in Canterbury, Brother Diarmuid had washed the feet of a leper....and lived amongst them, as he had oversaw a lazar house at that city's west gate. Brother Diarmuid watched the General's action, as he unsheathed his blade. Then he took a deep breath, before at last saying, "My life has always been given in to the service of God.... although, only now, have I turned myself to such charitable works as you found me doing." There was a grin, "If you will not take offense, I would go so far as to say that in you.... I am reminded of a younger version of myself." It should be noted that Brother Diarmuid was 32. The smile faded. "My earliest memories are of being delivered to a Knight Hospitaller preceptory in my homelands. ....When I first came of age, my calling was more marital than merciful. I campaigned some in Cyprus....in Rhodes....and then..." Brother Diarmuid simply shrugged his shoulders. As though to say 'here I am'. But there was more to his story. Only to be revealed of the Lion asked. (D)
Maahes:
He would laugh then, intrigued for a simple mind could fathom only what was on the outskirts of a careful heart that had been broken time and time again. "You talk in funny words, Brother. How could you see me in you? We look nothing alike." It was proof, though he knew what the Brother meant he could not put his mind to work over the details. "Because you once walked in my lands, you see you? In my eyes do you see the same?" The tip of his blade came to point to said amber orbs that burned with a hundred desert suns behind them. "Is this what you saw then? My mother was from Cyprus. My father.." He would smirk, "He is King in their way. A tribe leader of the Islam. He sits at the hand of what you would call a King, Sultan..many names. So tell me how you see yourself in me?" He shook his head, replacing his sword. "My life has been given in serving God..that must be it. Am I going to burn in hell because of it? Because it is not your God? I have been told this, and do you know why it makes me.." He searched for the right word rolling his shoulders, "Bitter? I have given my life to God, serving in his army, and what has he returned? My wife is dead. My body hurts, and my mind is broken. So you can save your sermon for another day." His hands came to his chest, "This is not a lost soul, this is a tired soul. He is a soul who is getting old, and hurting. You keep your campaigns (d
Brother Diarmuid:
That seemed to bring a change in him, as Brother Diarmuid was a bit introspective in his thoughts. When at last he roused himself from his thoughts, he would meet the Lion's gaze. "As I said, what I see in you is a younger version of myself. I see a man who is comfortable in he motions of his sword arm.... a man renown for his.... a man of piss and vinegar." There was a bit of Brother Diarmuid's old self in his voice, a young man fired with a Crusader's eal and fever. "Like you, I once waged war in the name of God and conducted myself as I thought He would approve." There was a quiet pause, before he - his subdued self once more - said "Then He revealed his true plans for me....It was during a sea battle of Rhodes, that He showed unto me what His plans were. For during the battle, I was cast into the sea -- and left to drown. I don't know how long I was upon the sea....but I knew surely that I must die. It was then that I was rescued -- by a Moorish ship. They pulled me aboard their ship and took me to shore...They saw to my hurts and clothed me. They fed me. And they sold me in to slavery." There was pause. "I was bought by by a Moorish physician - for, even then, I was trained in the healing arts. I was in his service for five years, as his apprentice and slave. During that time, he treated me justly, fairly, and kindly. It was his treatment - and that of the Moorish boatmen who rescued me - that turned my mind to questions. 'Would I have saved a Moor?' 'Would I have treated a Moor slave as I am treated now?' " Brother Diarmuid grew silent. "....I did not like the answers.When the physician died, I was told that I had been left my freedom." Rather off-handedly, "I have not picked up a sword since that day...." Then he said, "When I returned to my Order, I returned the man you see before you." Then he would go to Maahes, still holding his gaze. "Why have you saught me out? Is it so that I might answer the questions you put before me?" There was a sad smile, "I am afraid that I do not have clear answers for you.....Will you go to Hell? I do not know. ....For all that I know of you, you seem a good and pious man. All I can say is that if you continue to live such a life, Allah will grant you absolution. I cannot offer a balm for a lost wife, for I have never had one to loose. All I may do is offer you what you have likely already heard from an imam: that she is in Paradise. And that, if you will not take offense, that I shall pray for her. For your hurts.... as I have said, I do know some medicine. If you think it would help, I would give you my services. And for your soul?" Brother Diarmuid was quiet for a long while. Then he said, "For that, I can only offer an ear to hear what you say. A voice to speak with you over it. Perhaps, then, I can help." What would Maahes do, when Brother Diarmuid clapsed his shoulder, "I can tell that you are indeed a good man, sir. Never loose that thought." (D)
Maahes:
There had been a hundred times Maahes had been taken by his attention, but only able to count on his hand a small collection of times he could truly relate to the story at hand. It was a vision of the past, and the brother had way of explaining it so that he could imagine himself there in the hands of the physicians as the Brother had been. In many of his ideas he had thought himself better then to follow a man of the cloth down some street, but the Brother was right. He had sought him out. He did have questions, and it was for this he did not trust easy. His shoulders carried the weight of the nation, and this was way to protect it first from battle.It was a power that was vested in him by the golden talon he wore about his neck, and the feathers there of gold hanging from his hair now in stead of his belt. "You cast a spell on me. Is this what you do?" Maahes would look at the man's hand on his shoulder before flexing the muscles of his back. "You make me trust you so you can get inside. Is this it?" Because it was working. Turning from the Brother he would collect his horse, but before he would mount it he would look over his shoulder at the man. "I have more questions. I also have a duty. In time, will you give me the answers?" It was a start was it not? He was of a different sort, one who knew manners perhaps like he knew the bible. (The Book of Christ of course) Yet, this man had touched Maahes, and did not die. It was well known he was liked now, and spoken about in the whispers of the streets. Maahes seemed less a man without his dreads, but when mounted was reminded of the unstoppable force beneath his exterior. "You...will come to the festival?" He spoke atop the horse, that danced beneath him ready to be at her place in the stables of the arena. (d
Brother Diarmuid:
Brother Diarmuid was shaking his head quietly, a slow smile forming on his features. "No...I don't...." There was a slight incline of his head, "Often times, I am called to salve one's hurt....whether it is their physical body or soul or mind that troubles them." There as a smile, "I thank you, sir, for such a high compliment. I shall endeavor to always be worthy of it." As Maahes would mount, Brother Diarmuid would clasp his hands behind his back. "You may freely bring any questions that you have to me, sir. I shall do what I can to answer them as best I can." There was a smile, "If you have great need of me, send word to Laurence Hall......" What would Maahes make of that? Brother Diarmuid not only served God...but the Ebony Hall as well. The last request caused him pause, before he smiled, "Of course, sir. I would be honored to be your guest." (D)
