The Chapel or Judge Eternity 13 of 20

They stayed there for a week and while Anthon spoke very little to Martin Luther the monk came to know him well.

There was naught but love in the giant mans eyes when he looked upon the woman and though it was obvious that he was a formidable knight it wasn't uncommon to see him carrying water and wood. The boys would follow him about struggling to keep up with his long strides. From time to time bouts of ruff and tussle would break out, outside it would almost always end with the two boys who were as large as Martin Luther pinning the giant to the ground, on the few occasions when they broke out in the house, it would end with the woman severely beating them all with the broom until they were driven from her domain.

After the second day Martin Luther began help with the chores. Anthon would pile him high with wood or overfill the buckets and then guffaw if the monk spilled or dropped anything. He would lilt to the boys in what Martin Luther was now sure was Geatish and the boys would laugh.

The teasing aside, Martin Luther was sure if he could have had a life like this he would have never have become a monk. In all the carousing he did when he was young he had never caught sight of the possibility of happiness that this giant found here on the edge of the Black Forest.

One day without notice the giant rose and put on his padded jerkin. Martin Luther who always rose before the family had prepared the family a breakfast of quail eggs which he found the day before and sweet basil sausage that was hanging from the rafters, there was chilled goats milk from the nights milking and bread with mushrooms. When the woman came out from her room Martin Luther bowed and went outside to Psalters. The giant followed him with his eyes and then bent to his breakfast.

As Martin Luther finished his ritual he heard the boys crashing about in the lean-to where the horse and tack were kept. Relatively quickly, considering the chaotic sound that they had been making, the two horses were lead out in saddle and bridle by the two boys. The giant horse was harnessed and in mail while Martin Luther's horse had only saddle and the new addition of a ruck which included bedding.

Realizing they were about to leave the monk found a pocket in the side of the ruck to put his book of hours, when he opened the pocket a smell that made him salivate drifted over him. There wrapped in hand woven linen were a selection of hand pies, savory chicken and venison, quail, and pies of berries and wild apples.

He had this book of hours for four years, and it was filled with his best calligraphy. Like most books of its type it was a work of art. Without even a thought he turned and walked into the thatched house were the boys were busily harnessing the giant into his armor. He walked to the woman who was smiling with love at the two boys and Anthon and he handed her the book.

Smiling at Martin Luther she open the book and fell silent, drawings of people she had never seen and places she did not know marched across parchment. Prayers framed in brilliant vines blazed out here and there in the back was her family. Boys with sun bleached hair tussling with a giant, milking goats or cutting trees, struggling to walk in the giants footprints. In the background or shining down like the sun was always her countenance, her eyes soft and smiling.

Her eyes filled with tears and a sob came from her mouth that she tried to hide behind a bent wrist. In a moment Anthon was there, his eyes blazing with dark rage and a great fist the size of Martin Luther's head was drawn back like the hammer of Thor about to bring death.

The woman stepped between her lover and the monk and held up the open book, like the storm burned away by the sun Anthon's fury was gone, his shoulders slumped in the great paldrons and he pressed his giant head against the woman's, staring down at their two beautiful sons who smiled out at them from the pages of vellum.

The horse moved at a comfortable walk following a trail which was well worn from both game and travelers. Spears of light occasionally penetrated the perpetual twilight of the forest but darkness ruled here.

Giant oaks pressed against each other forming impenetrable walls of wood. Only where the ancient tree had fallen were there young trees or other plants which basked in the glades of sunlight and those were far and few between. When one appeared the trail would often bend suddenly toward the brilliance. Even the animals who called this place home enjoyed the sunlight where they could find it.

Where the forest was the darkest strange mushrooms of red and white grew in great piles and beetles rooted in the rotting loam of millions of years.

"Thank you."

Martin Luther was startled from his observations of the forest.

"What?"

"Thank you for giving that to her, I've never seen her like that, Thank you."

The words seemed somehow coming from that huge throat, the way they rumbled seemed wrong for the tenderness that Anthon was trying to convey. Martin Luther could only see the expanse of the giants steel clad back so he didn't know what expression was on the knights face.

"You are welcome, it was easy to give it to her."

They rode on for a while without saying anything, Martin Luther was nearly hypnotized by the rhythmic gentle thuds of the horses hooves on the packed earth.

"She's your wife isn't she?"

"Yes."

"And they're your sons?"

"No, but I love them like they were. They were one and two years old when I found them and their mother here in the forest."

"You found them?" Somehow the phrase didn't seem right, one found mushrooms or quail eggs in the forest but not people.

"This is a dangerous place Martin Luther." It was the first time the giant knight had called him by name.

"There are outlaws and thieves who form small armies here in the forest, they will kill or use people like a farmer uses animals. There are also things that are worse than that. Things that you would not believe if I told you and things that I hope we can avoid."

"I am not afraid."

"It is good that one of us is not."

Nothing the giant could have said would have as frightening as that.

Toward the end of the day when the shadows were laying sideways they found a glade where a monstrous tree had fallen ages ago. There was a circle of stones with cold ashes and pieces of charcoal were travelers had warmed themselves as they sheltered against the massive trunk.

The trees limbs had long since been used for firewood and the trunk had rotted until it wasn't usable for firewood. It's hulk did make good shelter from the night.

"I don't like this place," Anthon rumbled," it has a feel about it, but it is too late to look for another place."

Martin Luther had already pulled the saddle from his horse and thrown it over the stump of a limb that protruded from the trunk.

"I think you are just missing your family, this is a great place."

The giant scowled at him and then began to loosen the exterior plates of his armor. When he had carefully wrapped the helmet and rigid arms and legs he began stripping the horse of its large plates as well, he kept the mail on himself and only loosened the horses so it could shake itself from side to side like a great dog.

Looking around the knight saw Martin Luther weaving about the trees at the edge of the glade picking up firewood and mushrooms.

"Do not put a tree between me and you monk!" the giant warned as his ward walked behind a giant oak, there was an almost musical sound of wood falling in a pile and then silence.

The giant man charged across the glade pulling his sword from its scabbard and stepped around the huge oak ready for anything.

The monk was there caught in a tangle of roots with fire wood and mushrooms strewn all about him.

"Damn it boy, you . . .", three crossbow bolts as thick as a large mans thumb sprouted from the knights chest. He slid to the ground with a rasping sound, as the links of his chain shirt drug across the bark of the giant tree.