Happy Wednesday, my friends! Today I am providing you with a snippet of my work in progress (thus, WIPpet), a challenge hosted by K.L. Schwengel. Basically, you post a snippet of your current project which in some way relates to the date. I usually post something which relates to “today in history” but I have encountered a major brain fart today and just decided to post something from p. 22 (since today is the 22nd day of January).
This snippet is from my WIP, Dark Ages trilogy (Book 1) in which reluctant knight Justus must redeem a thief (Tristan) and guide a barren woman (Richende) on a pilgrimage to Jerusalem. Also, I am trying to decide upon a name for this book. Please vote on your favorite!
Now then, in this scene Richende and Justus are discussing the pilgrimage to come.
“Your face is brown,” she observed. “Your arms as well. You’ve been outside the cloudy lands of your forebears for some time.”
“Yes,” he admitted. “Years.” He calculated in his head, said with surprise, “Two, now, since I’ve been gone.”
“Irish monks have come here before, when I was a child. Three of them, with stringy long hair and priests’ habits and wild eyes. I remember their fervor, and their hope. They were on a peregrinatio, a wandering, they knew not where day by day, but only went as the spirit of God directed them.”
Justus thought of the hermits in the desert, the saints sitting atop poles or rooted in the earth, the signs and wonders he had seen in the glittering cities of the Roman East. The golden icons and sweet perfume, the filth and illness and degradation that affects the poor everywhere. He had been fed by nuns and nursed in sickness by monks who lived atop a hill overlooking the ocean, in Greece. He had watched peasants stomping grapes at harvest-time, had seen others eating juicy oranges as they rested and laughed like life was sweet and full of jest.
“There are many such along the roads, wanderers for the faith,” he volunteered.
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