A Modern Mind in Medieval Times

In a very different place and a very different time

“Death to the plague-bearers!”

As she walked by the mud and thatch house, the young woman could still see those words written on the rough wall, even though they had been washed away days ago.

Insects buzzed in the twilight sky and the village dogs’ barking made her flinch, even as she forced herself to keep walking. Her heart urged her to turn around, but she kept moving. It only wanted to save her from the pain, but she would not run away from doing the right thing.

She approached the old mill tower, not yet quite a ruin.

Under its shadow, a well built young man, not much older than her, was pacing around nervously, his messy dirty-blonde hair swaying in the breeze. Hearing her approach, he turned a worried face toward her. The moment his eyes fell upon her, a broad smile came upon his face.

Try as she might, Aprilia could not reflect it back. She had to be honest.

“Aprilia!” he exclaimed, and enveloped her in a hug.

For a moment, she forgot all her worries in those strong arms. Not for very long though, as they wriggled their way back into her mind, whispering everything she feared.

She drew large breaths to steady herself, clutching his rough hands, and forced herself to look him in the eyes.

“We have to leave, Paul,” she managed to speak, every word costing her resolve.

His face grew ashen.

“What? No! Let’s marry! You’ll be one of us then. They wouldn’t dare-”

She put a finger to his lips, her voice stuck in her throat. A month ago, she would have been ecstatic to hear those words, but now they only reminded her of how wrong the world had gone.

“What about my parents? My little brother?”

“They… they can hide in my uncle’s village! It’s very remote,” his voice cracked from desperation.

“It’s a pogrom, Paul. They’re blaming every Cha for the plague and burning our houses. People who’ve been found helping the Cha aren’t being spared either. I can’t risk that happening to you.”

“That’s ridiculous! The only people who died of this ‘plague’ were old folks. The ones who were already about to croak, and it’s already spent!”

“The zealots don’t care about any of that.” A pained smile came upon her face.

“They just want to get rid of the ‘foreigners and heretics,’ and they’ve found a convenient excuse.”

“Are you sure any of those rumors are even true?” he said, grasping at straws.

“Yes,” she whispered. “People fleeing cities are bringing news about our men being murdered in broad daylight and… terrible things being done to our women. Nanon is not safe for us any more. We… we have to leave.”

“Is there nothing we can do?” he pleaded, more to God than her.

“I’m afraid not,” Aprilia answered, as she gathered her courage and lunged at him.

He caught her, surprised to find her lips brushing his. He met her beautiful silver-gray eyes, then her lips, trembling but insistent.

The world dissolved for an instant: no worries, no threats, only the taste of tears and a hope of better life. Unfortunately, their first kiss, tender and fierce, was also to be their last.

She peeled herself from him, and the night air rushed in like cold water; heavy with fear and the reminder that love meant nothing against a mob.

“Where will you go?” Paul asked her, still clutching her hands.

“I don’t know, but our Elders have formed a Council. They will come up with a plan. This... this is goodbye, Paul. Be safe. Live a good life.” She said, looking at the young man she had dreamt of building a life with, one last time.

“You too, Aprilia. May God keep you safe.” Paul replied, his voice quivering.

She turned around and quickly walked away, before Paul could see the tears flowing down her face.

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Another meeting was being held in the same village. Less intimate, but just as important.

The tightly packed room smelled of sweat and tallow smoke. Dozens of men argued at once, voices clashing like blades.

Elder Hyde slammed his old cane, worn down to a smooth finish from years of use, on the wooden floor. “Enough! We have come to a decision! Our destination is this valley beyond the Treacherous Bog.”

The arguments fizzled into murmurs.

“Isn’t it just a drunkards’ tale?” someone shouted.

“No. All those claims are consistent with very old records.” Erickson replied. “I bribed a scribe from the Land records office some years ago to confirm them. The copy he made clearly stated that there is a habitable valley beyond the Bog.”

“Then why is it empty?”

“The Bog. It’s called Treacherous for a reason. Reaching this valley is not going to be an easy journey, but it’s either a certain death here, or a chance there.”

Many faces paled in response, but they gradually began to nod.

“Finish your preparations. I hope all of you have turned anything you cannot carry on your backs into coin?” Hyde added.

Another collective nod of heads.

“Good. Buy plenty of grain and turn it into hardtack. Smoke as much meat as you can afford, but without raising suspicion.” Elder Hyde’s gaze swept the room, hard as stone. “Remember, secrecy is essential! Breathe not a word to anyone outside of our circle. Not to any of your neighbors, not any so-called ‘friends,’ no one!”

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Aprilia’s mother whirled on her the moment she returned. “Aprilia! Where have you been?”

“Not far away, mother.” She tried to placate the frightened woman.

“You know these are dangerous times! It’s not safe for us to be alone anymore.”

“I know.” She said, exasperated. “Calm down. You’re scaring Vinnie.”

“I’m not scared of anything!” her little brother chirped, wooden knight in hand.

“You should be. There are bad men out there.” She informed him. “Here. This is for you.” She handed him a wooden sword. “I had it made just for you.”

He looked at the half-sized replica in amazement.

“I will protect you from those bad men!” he exclaimed, swinging it around.

She ruffled his hair in response, and silently prayed that he would never have to use a real sword.

Their mother let out a sigh. “How are you so reckless and considerate at the same time? You shouldn’t be saying such things to him.”

“He’s not that young, Lina. It’s better to prepare him for what is coming.” Their father interjected from the door of their hovel, his shoes caked with mud and face lined with fatigue.

“Father! How did the meeting go?” Aprilia asked, her voice quivering with trepidation.

“We have a destination. Be ready to leave at a moment’s notice. Lina, turn all of our flour into hard tack. And here,” he set down a big slab of meat. “Smoke this.”

Aprilia’s mouth watered upon seeing that much meat. So much of a delicacy, all of which would be ruined by smoking. But needs must when the devil drives, and he was right behind them.

“We really have to leave?” her mother asked, disbelieving.

“Yes.” He answered, with eyes downcast.

The devil came sooner than they had anticipated.

“Aprilia! Lina! Pack everything, now!” Her father came bellowing the day after.

She froze on the spot for a moment, her mind uncomprehending, when the urgency on her father’s face jolted her into action.

“What happened?” She asked, while packing their things up.

“The zealots found out about our plans. Some fool must have flapped his tongue. They’re coming here. We need to go!”

Their small house turned into a storm of motion. Aprilia stuffed her threadbare cloak and Vinnie’s spare clothes into a sack, while her father checked the knots with shaking hands.

She and her mother swept through their hovel one last time, checking every nook and cranny for anything valuable they might have forgotten.

“Let’s move!” Their father ordered, while poor Vinnie looked from one adult to another, his wooden sword clutched in hand.

Within minutes, they were on the road, packs bulging with their meager belongings. They weren’t the only ones. The village was a flood of Cha pouring out; mothers dragging children, men pulling carts, which creaked under the weight of the elderly and the essentials.

Aprilia stole one last look at their little house, a place of mud, stone and a roof that leaked whenever it felt like it. It wasn’t much to look at, but it was home. The place where she had grown up, and now it would be lost to her, forever.

She looked to the left to see her childhood friend Rilka standing by the door of her house, staring at the refugees. She couldn’t remember them ever not being friends.

Aprilia waved to her, which caught her attention. Their eyes met, and Aprilia almost broke down. Rilka ran back inside her house.

She dried the tears threatening to spill out, and forced herself forward, following her family out of ‘her’ village.

“Apri! Wait!” Rilka screamed as she ran up to her.

“Here!” she pressed a small pouch in Aprilia’s hand.

Aprilia felt the coins inside. She pressed them back into Rilka’s hands. “I can’t take it.”

“Yes, you can! It’s some extra money I made with my embroidery. You always said it was pretty.” She tried to smile.

Aprilia enveloped her in a hug. They let their tears flow.

“Take care of yourself, Apri,” Rilka whispered.

“You too, Rilki,” Aprilia sniffled.

She squeezed her friend’s hand one last time and turned around.

Thus began the Cha’s exodus. As days turned to weeks, their numbers swelled, but they also became slower. While there was strength in numbers, it also made them more visible; a bigger target for the fearful and the superstitious. They had to keep moving, no matter how many feet developed blisters.

Every subsequent border crossing was more difficult than the previous one. On top of that, carrying the old, the sick and supplies slowed them down even further.

One day, Aprilia was massaging away the ache in her legs from walking all day long, when her father approached her.

“Aprilia, make sure to cover your face with mud tomorrow.”

“Why?”

“We’re getting close to the Highridge county’s border. The news of our exodus has already spread throughout the land, and vultures are coming down to take advantage.”

She looked at him, brows knitted but uncomprehending.

“I heard from some people who just joined us that,” he paused, sucking in breath, “some guards blocked their way and demanded ‘favors’ from their daughters to let them pass through. They bribed them with money to spare their girls, and we’ve been doing the same, but,” he paused to look her in the eye, “we don’t have much left. I don’t want you catching their eye.”

She nodded meekly in return, then spat, “Curses upon them all… and curses upon this body!”

“Never say that!” he chided her. “Your beauty is a gift from God. It will help you find a good man.”

“I had a good man,” the words slipped out of her, before she could stop them.

“What? Who?” he asked in a father’s protective tone.

“Paul.” She confessed, with cheeks burning.

“The miller’s boy?”

She only nodded hesitantly in response.

“He’s a good lad,” he said, reminiscing. “You’re not...?” He pointed at her stomach.

“No, father.” She rolled her eyes. “I’m not that stupid.”

“No, you’re not.” His voice softened. “You’re my smart girl. Get some sleep. We have a long day of walking ahead.”

“Isn’t that every day?” She asked, and both of them burst into nervous chuckles.

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At another border crossing, Aprilia waited with bated breath, as the guards “checked” the Cha, who had become refugees, again.

Long before she was born, the Cha had fled persecution and settled in the Nanon Kingdom in the hopes of a peaceful existence. It was a good few decades. They weren’t allowed to buy lands or join the military, but their learning and skills with crafts made them useful to both lords and commoners alike.

Within a decade, there were pretty much no homeless or destitute Cha, as they settled throughout the kingdom in groups and helped each other out. All that progress gone out the window, as the guards stole everything they had amassed over decades as bribes.

She thought they would similarly pass through the Nobart County, the last obstacle between them and the Treacherous Bog, when they received the shock of their lives. More than a hundred armed soldiers were lined up in rows at the border, as if ready for battle. The wall of pitchforks, scythes and clubs behind them suggested far more numerous peasants lined up at their backs.

“Hear me, Cha scum!” Their apparent leader shouted. “By the order of Count of Nobart, you are not welcome in his lands. Trespass and you will be treated like the vermin you are. We will show no mercy to anyone, be they young or old! Begone, and do not curse our land with your existence any further!”

Aprilia was dumbstruck by that proclamation. She looked around to confirm she wasn’t the only one, and found others confused as well. Sure, many Nanoans considered the Cha a nuisance. Some even called them parasites, and worse, but nobles didn’t give two hoots about their existence, the same way they didn’t care much for their own people. This Count’s overt animosity was something novel. What had the Cha done to earn such hatred?

Did one of us sleep with his mother or something? Aprilia thought as her grief turned to anger. If they did, serves him right!

The procession of almost five thousand refugees came to a grinding halt. Aprilia was wondering what they were going to do, when someone shouted from behind: “Riders!”

While the others turned to look at the small party, she quickly knelt down to rub more dirt on her mud caked face with trembling hands. She glanced sideways to see a young man with dark wavy hair dismounting and walking toward the Elders, with the confidence of a noble. He was handsome, the kind of man who would have made her heart flutter, but lately, every surprise filled her only with dread. Yet, her eyes did not leave him.

He disappeared within the parting crowd, but she could still hear him talk. Her fear turned to confusion when she heard him say his name: Viscount Jack Nobart.

The Count’s son?