Feast of the Raven by Catherine Spader

Author:Catherine Spader
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: dark ages, charlemagne, holy war, pagan fiction, germanic mythology, saxon history, pagan history
Publisher: Catherine Spader

Speak Only of God

I sprinted to Paderborn, my wet body drying quickly. A clear route unfolded ahead of me through the thick forest. The air was fresh, the earth soft under my feet as I leapt over logs and dodged under branches. I was bringing the King his precious spear.

The deed—it was all that mattered now.

I scanned overhead and behind, listening, smelling. Widukind and his Wulfhednar were likely close, waiting for the Frankish traitors to bring them the spear, but I did not smell them. The Raven had also vanished. There was no pounding of hooves behind me—no scent of sweet musk and hawthorn. God was smiling on me.

I stopped and dropped to my knees, making the sign of the cross. I raised the spear aloft, arms stretching wide, and found the words to pray, “Holy Father in heaven, thank you for providing me with the opportunity to prove myself worthy of your grace.”

The words sounded so strange, but I did not dwell on it and looked forward to presenting the Holy Spear to the King. I pictured how Pyttel’s mangled forehead and crushed nose would twist in surprise when I appeared with the Holy Spear.

I returned to the hill near Paderborn where Pyttel had left me.

He was there, dressed as a monk again, pacing frantically. “Where have you been?” His jaw dropped, and his voice rose with excitement. “The spear...could it be....?” He reached for it. “Where...how...?”

“The King must be the first to know,” I said.

“Yes, yes, of course,” he agreed. “This is great news! You see? God was with you! This will bring us all great blessings. The King was in such a temper. At first, he refused to see me, and when he finally did, he threw his wine glass at me. He did not want to see you at all, but this changes everything!”

He embraced me tightly. “Were the thieves Saxons?” he asked in my ear. “Frankish traitors? Someone in high ranking at court must have helped them.”

I pulled away from him. “Stop asking, lest I ask you about your sacrilege at Wodan’s Spring.

He scowled. “Whatever brought you to this miracle,” he said suspiciously, “never, ever tell the King about Wodan’s Spring or the Eater of Souls.”

“I will speak only of God.”

“Yes, God indeed,” he said. “Let us speak only of God.”

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