Even though he'd removed all his armor, carried no weapons, and wore his least fine garments - even though his fingers were numb, and his woolen scarf did little to keep out the winter's chill, Bernard felt overdressed. Overdressed and almost excessively fortunate.
He wandered through the crowds of pilgrims with Brother Jukka, a short reindeer dressed in black and white robes which he'd simply tied with a rope; whether Jukka was more pious, or simply of a species more content with the cold, Bernard could not tell, but he envied the smaller man's comfort and simplicity.
It was late enough that the sun had been down for hours, but the grounds of the monastery next to the Cathedrale were fully alight with orange and yellow auras, built of countless candles, torches, and cooking fires. Most of the pilgrims were shabbily dressed, cold, and exhausted, but they were singing, praying, and holding each other as they gazed up at the beauty of the Cathedrale even in the snowy night and listened to the bells.
Brother Jukka and Bernard held armloads of thick wool blankets, which they distributed to anyone who seemed to be in need. Other clergy were giving food, and medicine, and spiritual comfort, walking amongst the motley crowd.
"This first night is always pretty quiet," Jukka told Bernard, after handing a blanket to an elderly goat, "The constables don't tend to have much trouble with them, so long as they can keep the pickpockets and such out of the monastery grounds." Bernard had noted the constables around the perimeter, watching for signs of trouble, but so far everything seemed peaceable, if rather crowded.
Bernard handed a blanket toward a strapping hedgehog, who was dressed too thinly for the weather; even so, the fellow didn't seem as tired or dirty as most of the pilgrims. He shook his head, smiled, and pointed to the small figure lying upon a wheelbarrow. "Give it to her," said the hedgehog.
As Bernard tucked the blanket in around the muffled figure, he could tell that the little tigress was thin, and when the bent paw reached out to touch his large hand, it was clear that she was crippled as well, born with a defect of the limbs. He glanced up in surprise to her guardian, perhaps her mother, who whispered her thanks to him; but his eyes returned to the cub, who smiled up at him, her large eyes reflecting the glow of the countless lights in the courtyard.
It was a scene of simple and obvious beauty perhaps too sentimental for some, but he was not cynical of such things and tears welled up in his eyes. "May the Light Bless you," he said to the girl, and then nodded to her mother as he stepped back out of their way. Likely she was there in hopes that the pilgrimage would bring a miracle, on the Triumph of Light several days hence.
"They will be here a long time and will need that more than me," said the hedgehog.
"You aren't staying for the Triumph?" Bernard asked, surprised. "Why not?"
"Let us stand out of the way, and I will tell you," the man answered, and he stepped back from the path toward the lee of the gateway beckoning to both of them.
...to be continued...
He wandered through the crowds of pilgrims with Brother Jukka, a short reindeer dressed in black and white robes which he'd simply tied with a rope; whether Jukka was more pious, or simply of a species more content with the cold, Bernard could not tell, but he envied the smaller man's comfort and simplicity.
It was late enough that the sun had been down for hours, but the grounds of the monastery next to the Cathedrale were fully alight with orange and yellow auras, built of countless candles, torches, and cooking fires. Most of the pilgrims were shabbily dressed, cold, and exhausted, but they were singing, praying, and holding each other as they gazed up at the beauty of the Cathedrale even in the snowy night and listened to the bells.
Brother Jukka and Bernard held armloads of thick wool blankets, which they distributed to anyone who seemed to be in need. Other clergy were giving food, and medicine, and spiritual comfort, walking amongst the motley crowd.
"This first night is always pretty quiet," Jukka told Bernard, after handing a blanket to an elderly goat, "The constables don't tend to have much trouble with them, so long as they can keep the pickpockets and such out of the monastery grounds." Bernard had noted the constables around the perimeter, watching for signs of trouble, but so far everything seemed peaceable, if rather crowded.
Bernard handed a blanket toward a strapping hedgehog, who was dressed too thinly for the weather; even so, the fellow didn't seem as tired or dirty as most of the pilgrims. He shook his head, smiled, and pointed to the small figure lying upon a wheelbarrow. "Give it to her," said the hedgehog.
As Bernard tucked the blanket in around the muffled figure, he could tell that the little tigress was thin, and when the bent paw reached out to touch his large hand, it was clear that she was crippled as well, born with a defect of the limbs. He glanced up in surprise to her guardian, perhaps her mother, who whispered her thanks to him; but his eyes returned to the cub, who smiled up at him, her large eyes reflecting the glow of the countless lights in the courtyard.
It was a scene of simple and obvious beauty perhaps too sentimental for some, but he was not cynical of such things and tears welled up in his eyes. "May the Light Bless you," he said to the girl, and then nodded to her mother as he stepped back out of their way. Likely she was there in hopes that the pilgrimage would bring a miracle, on the Triumph of Light several days hence.
"They will be here a long time and will need that more than me," said the hedgehog.
"You aren't staying for the Triumph?" Bernard asked, surprised. "Why not?"
"Let us stand out of the way, and I will tell you," the man answered, and he stepped back from the path toward the lee of the gateway beckoning to both of them.
...to be continued...
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