Philip of Trier - Part Nine

It was said by some a new dawn was coming and with it a new tomorrow which would drive the night and darkness from the world. However the world was not that simple. The night was not just ignorance and darkness the night had its own song; the night was strong and feminine like the Egyptian goddess Nut who held up the sky with the beautiful vaulted arch of her nubile form. Nut's form was as beautiful as the nave of a cathedral, and Nut had had taken pity on the dark man as her own and made his shadow her substance, but she could not give him what he wanted most, because his name was Alphonse and he could had no soul and could not die, and he would be back in the world again soon enough. 

The first story ended that night and Philip earned a place to sleep with the wolfhounds. The wolfhounds seemed to take to him almost by instinct, and Leroy the little pug remembered Philip from their other lives. Leroy liked Philip then but loved him now since they were both strangers. Dogs have a way of finding what is good in you when you have forgotten yourself, and this was something Philip needed very much indeed. Philip had learned to survive, now he had to learn to care.  

The dogs took to Philip because Philip let the dogs be what they were and respected them for it. There was a primal world older than anything humans could touch and they remembered it. Maybe someday the wolfhounds would share their secret if he really got to know them, and let him run with the mammoths, and rumble with the Saber Tooth Gang. 

Section Two: Thomas Makes a Crossbow

Philip became a regular troubadour at the Guild Hall Tavern, after he explained what it was and how to spell it, but, tips were small so he also had to work for his keep. But he had an easy job as a scullery boy and he found that he didn't mind sweeping floors and cleaning copper cooking pots and turning the beast that was roasting on the cooking spit to keep it cooking evenly.  

The hall master had decided that since they were having regular entertainment the place had to be swept out every day which was Philip's other job. As Philip was dividing his time between turning the ox, scouring the pans, and sweeping the floor he had a visitor: Thomas Kaveny the giant red haired blacksmith.  

Philip was tall, and a bit unformed, like a staff of ash wood which might someday become a longbow, with a hundred weight draw that shot an arrow four hundred yards, to its telos. Or perhaps Philip was a different kind of longbow who shot another kind of arrow, that is to say an idea, into the future to pierce and expand the walls of their universe.  

Thomas towered over Philip, he was well over two meters tall weighing thirty stones as his great pectoral and arm muscles bulged under his shirt. Thomas's long red beard flowed just like he had come out of a wind storm, and he was wearing great boots, leather pants, and a fine lace shirt, and his long auburn hair hung in braids across the front of his shoulders. It seemed Thomas wanted to look his best to visit Philip.  

Philip looked up at him and said, “You must hit you head on doorsills a lot.” 

Thomas could laugh at himself and he laughed loudly. 

Philip, not feeling so helpless, picked out the fire poker that he been using to stir the glowing oak embers that the ox was roasting over, and stood on his tiptoes, not sure if Thomas was out for revenge. Philip had made the mistake that many do with large men of equating strong with stupid. In fact Thomas was clever and inclined to self preservation, and he wanted something and spoke to Philip almost as an equal.  

"Don't worry after what your buddy did to me last night I would not harm a hair on your lily white ass," said Thomas. 

Philip laughed to himself as he thought, ‘My friend, my friend I never saw that guy in my life before last night and I am not sure I ever want to again.’ 

"Yes my uncle is pretty scary when he wants to be and he can turn up anytime." 

Thomas glowered a bit and then said, "Yeah I bet you are his favorite nephew, but I have a question for you.” 

Philip looked at Thomas dumfounded the man was serious and really wanted something from him, and Thomas's voice had a weird resonance and gravity to it.  

Then Thomas asked, “How would you make a crossbow like Scorpion in your story? I want to make one.” 

Philip looked at him dumfounded, and since he did not have to be kind to Thomas he adopted the guise of a scholar’s contempt for the stupid question. 

"How in hell am I supposed to know it is just a story somebody wrote down 1300 years ago, and I found it in the bishop's study and translated it from English.” 

Thomas stared at him in disbelief as Philip continued, “I don't know a dammed thing about cross bows, besides if I don't keep turning this ox part of it will burn and that is what I will have to eat."  

Philip thought Thomas would just get pissed off, but he was deadly earnest since his life was stake, and that's where he would be going condemned as a warlock in less than two months. 

“I need that crossbow and besides we have something in common.” 

Philip looked back at the giant and said, “You and, you and I, what could we have in common, you are nothing like me in any way whatsoever?”  

Thomas picked up Philip's broom and started doing his jobs for him moving faster than anyone could imagine, seemingly with an extra pair of hands. 

Then he said, “I know what Bishop Rolland Prince did to you and your family, I know because we all know because he is the worst kind of sadist and thrives on others pain, defiles what is beautiful for the pleasure of it, I know what he did to you and your aunts, and know he would do it to me and my daughter Jeaneal.”  

What Philip had been denying, what had filled him with so much anger and hate and self destruction came back and he heard the bishop's voice, from that terrible night. 

‘You could have been my best, my brightest scribe, then my translator, then my chamberlain. If I raise my little finger my men will kill you, but I let you live to suffer what you lost as you wander the Earth till you die. Until you repent your pride, and appear as a penitent before God and myself you may not receive the sacraments, in the name of God and our Holy Mother the Church I excommunicate you.’ 

Then Philip vomited and heaved and shivered and collapsed as he felt it all come back to him, he felt the weight of the bishop, and his foul breath on the nape of his neck. He felt the tips of the lash cut into his back as the bishop’s men whipped him into hopelessness, ground salt into his wounds, and discarded him as useless and cast him out.  

Thomas said, “I know your story, you are not the first this happened to, and to be honest I put it together last night after your uncle decked me. I can't ask you to forgive me for not thinking about what I thought was a joke, but I will ask you to help me make that crossbow in the next two months so somebody can kill Bishop Rolland Prince of Trier with it.” 

Philip looked at Thomas defiantly and said, “You why should I care about you? You are nothing to me, and I would have frozen outside after you threw me in the piss trough last night, if you had your way.”  

Thomas replied, “Do you think the Bishop will let you live?” 

“Do you think I care if I live?”said Philip. 

“Yes you now you care, and that's what he was waiting for. There was no pleasure for him in killing Philip of Trier, who cared not whether he lived or died, or how his aunts lost everything,” Thomas added.  

Philip said loudly, “Yes I care not but there must be another way back to what was mine?” 

“Then find it,” said Thomas.