Aelswyn and the Angels

Chapter One - Encounters, Part One

876 AD, Wareham, Wessex, England

With the sounds of battle raging around him, Trystyn Campion turned to face his next adversary. The fighting had been grinding on all day and his men were tired to the bone. Sweat, blood and earth coated their armor and weapons. The field was covered with the congealing blood of the dead and wounded.  A metallic stench hung in the air and pandemonium reigned supreme. “Will this war never end?” He wondered aloud, as his sword cut down the next Norse invader. Dodging and slashing, he hacked his way through yet another giant Dane. His shield was lost somewhere in the melee. These attackers were fierce and seemed never-ending.

Trystyn was wearing down; feeling haggard e’en. Somehow, he was losing track of his opponents. He knew he was in trouble, and help was nowhere in sight. He could sense his strength ebbing away. Trystyn didna e’en feel it when the sword entered his body. Looking down at his chest where a blade had pierced his heart, he saw it as if from a distance. The sounds of battle disappeared and he was standing outside of himself.

Watching the battle rage around him in the silence, Trystyn knew that he was dying.  He looked on in shock as the blood poured from his chest and dribbled down his chin out of his mouth. His body went slack and he saw himself go down to his knees, and then his world shifted. In slow motion, Trystyn watched his body fall forward. Face down, he appeared to be dead. He was devastated. How could he be looking down at his own dead body?

The silence became deafening and there was only light; beauty so bright it blinded. A voice in his head said, “Remember the child.” And her face flashed through his mind. He wondered how she appeared, now that she was grown. He had known she would be a beauty, and found himself wondering what kind of person Aely had become.  After all, she would be his wife, someday.

With a jolt, Trystyn’s reality was wrenched madly. One moment, he was falling and the next he was flying. His world spun, and then began to slow. “Protect her.” The voice returned; the only solid thing in a scene beyond his control. At the moment when the world around him had almost stopped spinning, it changed course and sped in reverse until he was, again, standing in the midst of the field of battle with no more opponents left. They had all fallen or surrendered and bodies were scattered everywhere. Sound returned and he could hear the cries of the wounded and dying, but the skirmish was o’er. The Saxons had won this day.

Looking down at his body, he realized ‘twas whole. He was alive! The sword that had slain him was nowhere to be found. There was a hole in his armor where the weapon had penetrated it and no other visible sign that he had been dead; for he knew he had been. Exhilarated, he searched the terrain for anything to explain away the voice, the events that had taken place, but Trystyn was dumbfounded. What did it mean?

“Protect her.” The voice had told him.  Was he insane? He wanted to dismiss it and move on, but for some reason he couldna. It had been eleven years since that encounter in the woods, and yet not a day went by that he didna think of her. Not one moment had passed that her image hadna been imprinted on his mind.

The voice had told him to remember her, but how could he ever forget that female. She was in his mind constantly, and he didna know how he felt about that. His father was always pressuring him to finally marry her and get her with an heir. Sometimes, Trystyn thought his father should be the one to marry her; at least, until her image swam afore his eyes again. Then, he would remember that hint of womanhood he had seen in the child she had been.  He hadna seen her since that momentous day in the forest, and he was ashamed. Why, he wondered, had he put it off for so long?  Aelswyn could have been married three years gone, in her first blush of womanhood. If he was to protect her, he had no choice but to marry her, and be quick about it.

Mayhap, he could keep her at a distance and continue on with the fight for King Aelfredand Wessex. Perchance, protecting her meant that she would be safer at his keep instead of Hraefengeat. He couldna understand that, though, because her father was a Norseman and the enemy wouldna attack him; e’en if he had promised fealty to Aelfred. He was not required to fight against them, either, so Aelswyn should have been safe.

His thoughts were interrupted by the approach of one of his men, and her image retreated to the back of his mind; where it hovered just out of reach. “Trystyn, I thought you were dead! But you are not even hurt.” Alexander Casca, his second in command and best friend, appeared afore him with a bewildered look on his face.  ”I saw you struck down.”

“I dinna know what to say, Alex.” Trystyn grabbed his friend’s shoulder firmly, needing something solid to ground himself. He had to somehow prove that Alexander was real and Trystyn wasna dead and dreaming from Hades. “I canna explain it. What happened doesna e’en seem real, but the proof, ‘tis here in my armor.” He pointed to the hole in his armor just o’er his heart. 

Removing his glove, Trystyn gazed at his hand. It looked real. It felt real. Bending down, he picked up a rock and squeezed it. He experienced pain.  It hurt his hand when he pressed too hard.  “I just dinna know. Something happened, and I canna dismiss it.”

Alex looked at his friend’s face and knew there was something more to his story; something he wasna saying. Trystyn looked shaken to his core. “Do you wish to talk about it?” Alex ventured. 

“No’ yet. I need time to wrap my mind around it.” Trystyn wanted nothing more than to sleep, but he knew he had duties to perform and an angel to heed. He was sure ‘twas an Angel’s voice. What else could it be? “I have to go make my report. Count the men and look for wounded from either side. If there is any chance of them living, separate them. The healer will return soon. I go to see the king.”

“I will see it done.” Alex said with conviction. “You might be warned, I sent a messenger to your father informing him of your death. If you need me, you know where I will be.”

“Aye, I know and I am duly warned, min fréond.” Trystyn, smiling wryly, grasped Alex’s outstretched forearm in a gesture of brotherhood.  Alexander returned his smile, then turned away and went to convey the orders of his liege lord to the men and carry them out.

Trystyn stood for a moment longer looking at the carnage one simple skirmish had caused. War was a costly thing. Whole families were being destroyed just to gain a piece of Land. He didna understand why so many innocent people had to die protecting their homes, but he did understand Aelfred’s desire to unify Wessex with Mercia, and eventually, all the other shires into one united country; England. He believed In Aelfred’s stance on education; how he wanted to bring education to the public. Aelfred believed in self-improvement and practiced self abasement, if he perceived some sin in his life. Aye, he was a pious man, but he was fair.

Trystyn’s mind wandered away from his king as he paused and looked up at the canopy of trees above.  For a moment, his equilibrium faltered and he his awareness seemed to rotate. The trees appeared to grow fifty feet taller than just a moment afore, and their trunks bowed outward. ‘Twas as if for a split second, he was somewhere between time and place, and he wondered again if he was dead. But then, the scene shifted and everything was back to normal. The trees were commonplace and the stench was again in the air. He was having apoplexy. Aye, mayhap that ‘twas it. He would see a healer as soon as he could.

Returning his eyes to the path afore him, Trystyn tried and failed to comprehend what had happened to him. His mind was still reeling and everything he ever thought he knew was toppled from its foundation. He tried to push the image from him, but ‘twouldna go. The incident was firmly planted in his brain, and there was no turning back. Struggling to shrug off his unease, Trystyn began down the path to face his father.

From up high, Gabriel watched Trystyn’s internal battle and smiled. Shaking his head and laughing to himself, he shimmered and disappeared.