#TimeTravelingGhost EP 10: Post 107 1191, Nicosia, Cyprus

#Wss366 stake #TimeTravelAuthors 06/3 raise/rise)

The evening had cooled, and the streets were nearly empty. Mosquitoes had replaced the daytime flies. The stench was unchanged.

The servant hurried us along. His glances around him revealed his nervousness.

Emily scouted ahead. This was an occupied city, temporarily ruled by the iron-fisted Poor Fellow-Soldiers of Christ and of the Temple of Solomon. We had yet to learn what their link was with the Lapin Cabal, though it seemed clear one existed. Why else would the Templars be hunting us?

The Shrine of Saint George was nearby, and we soon arrived there unharmed. The servant took his leave as we entered a torch-lit courtyard.

Emily and I stopped just inside the arched opening and stood in the shadows to talk. A priest across the yard glanced my way but made no move to investigate.

“What occurred back there?” my partner asked. “Did you really create a relic?”

“Yeah, I think so. Don’t ask me how. When I tried manifesting one a second earlier, I couldn’t, but when I broke off that piece of the crown, it was magical. I didn’t ask for that; it just happened.”

“I lost my faith a long time ago, but I have to ask: Are you a saint? You’re not like any ghost I’ve ever heard of.”

“Absolutely not! I’m not even a Christian. That whole idea makes me very uncomfortable.”

“What if the priest were right?”

“I wouldn’t #stake my ‘life’ on it.”

“Ha ha. A holly #stake, no doubt.”

“I’m #rising in the world,” I thought. “My bad jokes are getting a response.”

“Furthermore, I would ask, which priest and about what? You just saw a Buddhist impersonating a Copt perform a miracle: a fraud, a flagrant liar, and most would say an unredeemable heretic. How does that fit into any conventional theological framework?”

She nodded.

“Regardless, it means something, but what? Why could I manifest a relic?”

She nodded again and turned toward the sound of footsteps crossing the courtyard.

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#TimeTravelingGhost EP 10: Post 106 1191, Nicosia, Cyprus

#Wss366 buzz #TimeTravelAuthors Whatever)

The meal was excellent, and I resisted the urge to overindulge in the roast lamb, fragrant with garlic and rosemary. Communal loaves of bread accompanied the dinner. I was surprised to find that it was white, though still coarser than what I was accustomed to. There were greens as well, and lentils stewed with onions and cumin. The Delphinas had plainly spared little in welcoming me. It almost made me feel guilty for deceiving them.

Cool, watered wine, faintly scented with bitter orange, accompanied the food. Emily didn’t need to remind me to drink sparingly. Heavy drinking was inappropriate for the role I played, as well as socially gauche and dangerous.

At the end of the dinner came honey cakes and dried fruit. Despite my attempt to eat sparingly, I was stuffed. Honestly, it was the best meal I could remember having. While the meals on the Hindenburg and Titanic were superbly prepared, they were pretentious. The food here was cooked with love and impressed one by its own merits rather than fancy ingredients.

When the meal was done, I murmured a prayer blessing the family, and then I gave my excuses for needing to leave for the shrine. I was sure the tutor was relieved to hear that, even if Zoé’s face fell when he interpreted what I said.

The master of the house provided me with a servant to light my way.

At the door, the wife pressed upon me small loaves of bread, wrapped in cloth. The scholar translated, “For the road, holy pilgrim.”

The daughter rushed forward, pressing a bundle of honey cakes into my hand. In turn, I attempted to manifest a fragment of St. Catherine’s Wheel to present to her, but was horrified when it failed to appear. I was unsure why. Manifestations had always succeeded as long as they were period-appropriate. Had I overreached? Perhaps what I’d asked for was a holy relic like the lance we had seen in the British Museum, and if so, why didn’t I get a substituted sliver of ordinary wood similar to how I had manifested rough natural chalk in the coral pyramid?

I still wanted to give the child something and to show my appreciation for the hospitality I had received, so I reached up and broke off a small fragment of the carved crown of thorns decorating my mask. When I held it out, the wood gave off a faint glow.

The mother gasped, and everyone signed themselves. From somewhere came the #buzz of amazed servants. Personally, the miracle shocked me speechless. Most surprising of all, the tutor fell to his knees and begged, “Forgive me, holy one.”

Finding my voice again, I said, “You don’t need my forgiveness. Your faithfulness to your master suits you well. May the Lord bless you for it.”

With that, I left the stunned family behind.

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#TimeTravelingGhost EP 10: Post 105 1191, Nicosia, Cyprus

#Wss366 spar #TimeTravelAuthors 06/1. break)

The tutor translated my request, which was met with approval and caused Zoé to beam.

Emily shook her head and said, “You’re quite the masher. Look at her; she has totally fallen for you.”

Indeed, the girl in question was directing doe eyes at me. The sobriety of prayer was nowhere to be found in them. If I were staying, both the scholar and I would have had to worry about her virtue.

After that, dinner was surprisingly uneventful. My hosts and I didn’t share a common language, so I was not obliged to talk with them. The tutor refrained from religious #sparring, though he started a conversation. Whether it was to trip me up or he was genuinely seeking information, I never knew. He began by asking, “What news have the Marseille Copts received of the Crusades?”

“That Salah ad-Din had retaken the Jerusalem, but that a vast host of English and Frankish soldiers are poised to retake it at any moment,” I said. “We hadn’t learned that Cyprus had been seized, or that Richard had sold it to the Templars.”

“And what do you think of the holy war?”

Rather than answering the more fraught question of my personal opinion, I chose to answer the question: “What did my community think?”

“Many hope to see the lands in Christian hands, and others are just glad to be rid of those whose violence spills into the streets of our cities.”

My host said something to the tutor, who fell silent, giving me a #break from the questioning.

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#TimeTravelingGhost EP 10: Post 104 1191, Nicosia, Cyprus

#Wss366 catch #TimeTravelAuthors 05/31. Author’s choice

There wasn’t much more to say after Emily finished her report, so I knelt on cushions in front of the Theotokos icon to meditate. The practice would be beneficial and help support my role as a devoted Copt. It would be a disaster if they #caught me talking to an unseen “demonic presence.”

Speaking of Emily, she drifted off to keep watch on the family while I meditated.

Later, a polite knock on the door signaled I was wanted. I rose, made the sign of the cross before the icon, and followed the servant to a long room with a low table, surrounded by chairs and stools.

In one corner stood an image of the Theotokos and a lamp. I bowed to it, crossing myself, careful to do it as I had before. As long as I was consistent, my prior error would be written off as a difference in tradition.

The servant showed me to a chair to my host’s right, across from his wife. After the three of us were seated, Zoé, the daughter, and her tutor took places lower down the table.

At my place were three white flowers. I picked one up and touched it to my forehead and said, “Three for the Holy Trinity: the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. May Christ bless this house.” I hoped this formula would pass as suitable behavior for a foreigner from far Marseille.

My gamble was that it would cement my position with the daughter without tipping my hand that I knew where the flowers came from. Even before being translated, I judged by the family’s reaction that I had pleased Zoé, who blushed, as well as the quietly smiling mother. The tutor frowned but added no comment, while the father watched with interest. He had shrewd eyes, but I saw no overt hostility in them.

Following my performance, my host, with the scholar translating, was the first to speak. “We welcome you to the house of Delphinas. The presence of such a pious pilgrim honors us. I hope the humble repast we have prepared will please you.”

His tone seemed genuine, and I relaxed a little.

While he spoke, a servant presented me with a shallow, cobalt-blue bowl and a linen towel. I held out my hands, and the servant poured cool, lemon-scented water over them and dried them.

That done, the tutor translated the host’s question, “Will you bless the house, holy pilgrim?”

I crossed myself. This was what I was most worried about: tripping myself up here with formal prayer. Anything I offered would sound Western and/or modern. Instead, I gracefully passed on the duty, saying, “I am honored, but perhaps this is a good time for the young lady to demonstrate her knowledge and gladden her parents before God.”

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#TimeTravelingGhost EP 10: Post 103 1191, Nicosia, Cyprus

#Wss366 Stream #TimeTravelAuthors 05/27. Wednesday POST-SIZED snippet (optional word: clever/smart)

While waiting for Emily to return, I reviewed what I knew about twelfth-century Christianity, particularly Byzantine and Coptic traditions. It took far less time than I would have preferred.

After exhausting my knowledge of Eastern Orthodox faiths, I sat back and enjoyed the evening breeze #streaming in off the veranda. The faint mix of citrus and blooming flowers was relaxing, and I fell into a reverie.

I could see Emily grimacing as she lost a trick at pinochle or laughing as she beat me at cards. It was the same smile she would flash when I snuck her a tidbit of food in a restaurant. Her smiles were generous. There was nothing shy about them, with a boldness that was unafraid to break into a grin or a grimace. She was a #clever woman, quick with snark or a witty comeback. Except for that hint of jealousy I’d seen, she made a great travel companion.

I was lost in those thoughts until she returned with news.

“The girl’s name is Zoe, and she’s quite taken with you. She even picked some white flowers for you. She swears she saw you walk through the courtyard wall, a miracle. The tutor has tried to dissuade her from this, but she insists. She calls you a saint and says she wants to be a nun. She has a bit of spirit, that one. The father seemed tolerant but not thrilled by this.”

She paused.

“….”

“There was brief talk of you being a demon, and even though they haven’t mentioned the mask, they have noticed and wonder what it signifies.”

“It’s good that you signed yourself and prayed to the icon of the Theotokos. That, along with your ‘saintly’ carriage, has convinced them to accept you as a foreign pilgrim blessed by the saints. The mother compared you to a desert hermit who is too pious to show their face. If you’re careful, you may carry it off.”

“I see,” I said. “Overall, that’s good. Let me adjust this mask to be more humble.” So saying, I roughened the mask, obliterating the smile and other embellishments; leaving only the crown of thorns.

Emily nodded and then suddenly said, “Oh, and they are planning to fete you. Sometimes I wish I had a material body like yours.”

“I’ll get you a doggy bag,” I said as she finished up.

“Charming.”

It was my turn to laugh. Her wrinkled nose was so cute.

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