Navigatio
P. James Garrett
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You have lived your life in cells...

You were a hostage, sold to your king by parents of whom you have
no memories. Then, you became a slave to a corrupt and depraved landlord. You try to avoid those memories, though they refuse to leave you.

Brother Tuan saved you. Now, at nearly 20 years, you serve him and
live in a corbelled stone beehive cell in an Irish monastery near the sea. The transitions from one life to another, one cell to the other, do not matter.

Two things matter.

First, Tuan treats you well--so well that the other monks regard
you as one of their own.

Second, you would follow Tuan anywhere.

Press any key ...
Navigatio
The Confession of the Second Man

It is the third of a series of strange mornings. Lauds was late, but time has been misbehaving. So have the monks of this community. With Abbot Brandan missing now for three days, discipline is slipping. Chores go undone. The daily offices are in danger of blending into one another.

You stand now upon the spit of land between the crumbling monastery wall and the river. The ground here is a disaster of rutted, frozen mud. This is a gray March, locked in ice after the tease of a late February thaw. There are no tracks or roads, but you can walk north back to the monastery. Lines of hedges--puzzles of bone-like sticks
and thorns--render travel in other directions too exhausting to consider.

Brother Tuan, your master, is standing by the river. He is looking toward the far bank. He does not seem to have noticed you.
You examine Tuan
Brother Tuan is your master. You are his servant. It is important to say these things so plainly, because it is easy to forget these
things. After all, he treats you as an equal, to the point that the other brothers regard you as a member of the order even though you
have had no formal training as a monk. Tuan is tall and strong, as big as a bear. He is raucous with his laughter, stern in his admonishment, full in his passion. Were it not for his tonsure, or the wisdom with which he teaches you, you would guess him to be a bandit king rather than a monk of Christ.
About you
You have lived your life in cells, and you look like it.
You examine the river
The river, once wide and full, is a thin interruption between two
banks of thick ice. Far downriver, toward the sea, a ship is stuck in the ice. Upriver, the ruins of a bridge describe a distant past in which things were easier, and there were fewer problems.
You look at the ship
The ship is from Italy, and is grounded perhaps for good. It carried your king's favorite cheese. The funk of that cargo is impossible to banish from your nostrils, even though his men carted it away weeks ago.
You talk to Tuan
"Good morning, Brother Tuan," you say. "What would you have me do this morning?"

Tuan sniffs and says, "Go talk to Brother Diarmat. I hear he has been saying something interesting, and I'd like to know what it is."

He gestures north, toward the monastery.
You go to the north
Through this simple wooden gate, three separate raids entered the grounds. First, the raiders from the sea. Then, twice, the soldiers of your king breached this gate to end disputes about their provision of protection to the brotherhood. The wall is strongest here, but elsewhere has slid into sloppy heaps. "Why bother?" it must be asking. You can enter the monastery by heading east, or walk south to return
to the river.

A soldier of your king sits on a stump beside the gate, his back against the wall. He is asleep.

The wind whistles above you.

The soldier snorts as if his breateing had stopped, opens his eyes briefly and dreamily, shifts his weight against the wall, and returns to sleep. He touches the steel of a dagger in his lap carefully before dropping his hands back to his side.
You examine soldier
You do not know the young man's name. You do not know any of their names, but he is one of three or four who cycle through to provide protection on the agreement that, if your king does not receive
tribute for this service, he will raid your monastery. This soldier is very young and slight. He wears the hardened leather and green cloth
of your king's barracks, and carries a small dagger, which is unsheathed upon his lap. He appears to have fallen asleep in the
middle of cleaning his nails.

The soldier snorts as if his breateing had stopped, opens his eyes briefly and dreamily, shifts his weight against the wall, and returns to sleep. He touches the steel of a dagger in his lap carefully before dropping his hands back to his side.
You go to the east
You stand inside the monastery enclosure, surrounded by the modest strone structures of the community. From here, at the western edge of
a central yard, you can see the chapel and round tower to the east.
The tall stone cross stands at that eastern end of the yard. To your north, the stone beehive cells of the brothers cluster in the cold. No doubt, many of the brothers are still sleeping. Your cell is among theirs. The kitchen sits prominently with other workhouses to the south. Smoke rises from its chimney and you catch the faint smell of stew in the air. You can leave the monastery encdosure through the
gate by heading west.
You go to the east
A tall, and intricate stone cross dominates this side of the yard, guarding the entrance to the chapel to the east. In warmer months, pilgrims visit this landmark, gathering mud that collects at its base and wiping it onto their faces. The mud is all frozen now, and there are no pilgrims--only the evidence of the passage of monks, who have worn paths northeast to the base of the monastery's round stone tower, and south to the scriptorium.
You examine the cross
The stone cross is taller even than Tuan, especially atop its solid stone base. The cross" western face bears Intricate folding knots in the crossbar and vertical, behind a relief of the Crucifixion. The eastern side, facing the chapel, bears weather-worn panels depicting key moments from the lives of various local saints. The cross is far more ancient than this monastery, having been ferried across the river from the community's prior home, which sits in ruins to the south. The cross, it is rumored, is older than those ruins, and is said to have been the handiwork of a forgotten ascetic who lived in hermitage many, many years ago.
Go east
The chapel is a modest rectangular space, though each of the community's abbots had promised to expand it into a proper nave and chancel. Now, it is merely two heavy pews on the northern and southern walls, facing a rough wood altar offset to the east from the center of the room. The altar is bare but for a simple cloth, upon which you
have seen Brandan place a large copy of the scripture that he keeps locked in his cell.
You examine the cloth
The altar is a single huge stone, perhaps left where some force had planted it eons ago. Craftsmen may have squared its sides, and then erected the chapel around it. It was probably Brandan who decided that this was all cold and severe, and who draped a cloth over it. The
cloth is a natural-colored wool panel, without any adornment.
You look at pews
The pews are haevy, rough wood. They are suitably uncomfortable. As a servant, you had the opportunity to leave on errands and miss many of the offices. You quite enjoyed, though, when the brothers forgot that you were a servant and did not notice that you joined in their
prayers.
Go northeast
Towers such as these protect valuable posessions and lives against raids. The entrance to the tower is several yards above the ground--more for stability, you have learned, than protection. The stone round tower rises three floors to a pinnacle of rough slate shingles. Windows peer in all four directions from the top floor. You can go up to the entrance and first floor.

A cloud of tiny flies appears as if from nowhere, surrounds your face, and then disappears before you can even swat them away.
Go upward
You ascend the creaky wooden ladder.

The tower floors are rough hewn boards, linked by ladders. The first floor has some sacks of barley, and other odds and ends. You can go up to the second floor, or down to head back outside to the tower base.
You look at the sacks
The sacks have barley, some of which seems rancid and sprouting. The barrels may hold ale, or mead, or just ruddy water.
Go upward
You climb up the ladder.

The second floor is very dark. There is a feeble light from the first floor below. Above, you can see the hatch to the third floor, and the top of the ladder. However, you are not able to make out anything
else. You could use some light.
Go upward
You cannot see the base of the ladder to the next floor, and you do
not think it is safe to fumble around.
Go downward
You move carefully down the ladder, leaving the dark behind.

The tower floors are rough hewn boards, linked by ladders. The first floor has some sacks of barley, and other odds and ends. You can go up to the second floor, or down to head back outside to the tower base.
Go downward
You descend the ladder, closing the entrance door behind you.

Towers such as these protect valuable posessions and lives against raids. The entrance to the tower is several yards above the ground--more for stability, you have learned, than protection. The stone round tower rises three floors to a pinnacle of rough slate shingles. Windows peer in all four directions from the top floor. You can go up to the entrance and first floor.
Go southwest
A tall, and intricate stone cross dominates this side of the yard, guarding the entrance to the chapel to the east. In warmer months, pilgrims visit this landmark, gathering mud that collects at its base and wiping it onto their faces. The mud is all frozen now, and there are no pilgrims--only the evidence of the passage of monks, who have worn paths northeast to the base of the monastery's round stone tower, and south to the scriptorium.
Go south
The scriptorium is dark and oppressive, with a low ceiling. Tthe thick smell of burning peat and hours of toil of frustration hang in the
air. A dozen desks surround an open fire in the center of the room, around which parchments are drying on racks. Baskets with rolled parchments sit beside each desk. You can leave by heading north.

Brother Diarmat sits at a scriptorium desk, working feverishly and sweating profusely.
You examine Diarmat
Diarmat is a short, portly brother who typically moves with a jerking, nervous energy. He sits at a scriptorium desk, scratching at a scrap
of vellum with a quill with a fervor that is rare even for him. He mutters and shakes his head as if making errors. Sweat beads upon his bald head, trails down through his tonsure, and drips onto his shoulders . You wonder in the moment whether you should disturb him, but you know that you must talk to him for Tuan.
You talk to Diarmat
"Brother Diarmat," you begin.

He erupts, gesturing forcefully at the vellum before him.

"I am at a standstill!" he shouts. "I do not know how to proceed, and
I believe that my humours are out of balance. I am low in blood, and uninspired. Please, Tuan. Help me!"
You examine the vellum
Vellum is a fine writing surface made from calf skin. Diarmat works a scrap of the size and shape typically used for practice, but his drawing is beautiful and intricate. Interconnecting lines and twisting knots surround a short poem. Poems like these typically appear as afterthoughts in the margins of copied works, but Diarmat has made
this poem the center of the piece.

north,
while our king sits before his warm hearth to the east.
The sea stretches west, to a promise of paradise,
while ...

He seems to be struggling with the last line. He mutters and then
looks at you, waiting for you to say something.
You say perform the blood sacrifice
(to Brother Diarmat)
If you want to speak with Brother Diarmat, just talk to Brother Diarmat.
You talk to Diarmat
"I need help," he says.

"How can I help you?"

"In the tower!" he nearly shouts. "Bring me something from the tower!"

You swallow hard, then say: "Brother Tuan asked me to ask you--"

"Bring me something to help me from the tower, then I will tell you!"

"But--but what should I bring?" you ask.

He waves you away.
You examine fire
The fire is warm but belches choking peat smoke.
You take fire
You are better off leacing the fire alone.
You take the vellum
That's hardly portable.
You examine the parchments
A scriptorium even as small as this community's is full of parchments, many of it bearing the work and art of talented brothers. Even the scraps, relegated to practice, carry intricate script and doodles. The production and copying of manuscripts is the most important function
of the monastery, both for the king and the Church. When the brothers are not tending to the offices of prayer or performing other chores, they are here.
Go north
A tall, and intricate stone cross dominates this side of the yard, guarding the entrance to the chapel to the east. In warmer months, pilgrims visit this landmark, gathering mud that collects at its base and wiping it onto their faces. The mud is all frozen now, and there are no pilgrims--only the evidence of the passage of monks, who have worn paths northeast to the base of the monastery's round stone tower, and south to the scriptorium.
You go to the west
You stand inside the monastery enclosure, surrounded by the modest strone structures of the community. From here, at the western edge of
a central yard, you can see the chapel and round tower to the east.
The tall stone cross stands at that eastern end of the yard. To your north, the stone beehive cells of the brothers cluster in the cold. No doubt, many of the brothers are still sleeping. Your cell is among theirs. The kitchen sits prominently with other workhouses to the south. Smoke rises from its chimney and you catch the faint smell of stew in the air. You can leave the monastery encdosure through the
gate by heading west.
You go south
The kitchen is the most prominent of the workhouses in this end of the yard. It is typically in order, occupied only for scheduled meals between the hours of prayer, or when brothers are on work duty preparing or cleaning up from those meals. A pot bubbles with a stew
on the eastern side of the room. Tzoday, however, a group of six brothers sits in idle chatter in the corner of the large table. The only exit is north, back into the yard.

The brothers have raided the pantry, and prepared a simple stew.
You look at brothers
The six brothers eye you suspiciously, and quiet as you near. They are chatting and eating stew, probably gossiping, and definitely ignoring their chores.
You look at the stew
It is a thick porridge of oats and root vegetables--typical monastery fare, and typically bland.
You talk to the brothers
They stiffen and go silent. They are an impenetable group. You waste your time trying to bother them.

The brothers whisper loudly for some seconds. You think you hear mention of Diarmat, and concern about his sanity. They hush one another, look at you, and return to their private conversation.
You eat the stew
That's plainly inedible.

The brothers whisper loudly for some seconds. You think you hear mention of Diarmat, and concern about his sanity. They hush one another, look at you, and return to their private conversation.
You go to the north
You stand inside the monastery enclosure, surrounded by the modest strone structures of the community. From here, at the western edge of
a central yard, you can see the chapel and round tower to the east.
The tall stone cross stands at that eastern end of the yard. To your north, the stone beehive cells of the brothers cluster in the cold. No doubt, many of the brothers are still sleeping. Your cell is among theirs. The kitchen sits prominently with other workhouses to the south. Smoke rises from its chimney and you catch the faint smell of stew in the air. You can leave the monastery encdosure through the
gate by heading west.

A hawk screeches in the distance, likely preparing to descend upon unlucky prey.
You go to the north
Your cell is a simple beehive hut of stone, arranged in circular
layers that corbel into a dome. You have a bed of hay, and nothing else. Leave your cell and had back to the yard by going south.

A single candle of beeswax sits beside your bed.

Your bowl is on the floor, beside the entrance.
You take the candle
Taken.
You look at the bed
It is a pile of hay, musty and damp.
You search the bed
That is a waste of your time.
Light candle
You light the candle using the fire.
You go to the north-east
Towers such as these protect valuable posessions and lives against raids. The entrance to the tower is several yards above the ground--more for stability, you have learned, than protection. The stone round tower rises three floors to a pinnacle of rough slate shingles. Windows peer in all four directions from the top floor. You can go up to the entrance and first floor.
Go upward
You ascend the creaky wooden ladder.

The tower floors are rough hewn boards, linked by ladders. The first floor has some sacks of barley, and other odds and ends. You can go up to the second floor, or down to head back outside to the tower base.
Search sacks
That is a waste of your time.
Go upwards
You climb up the ladder.

You can not see much of the second floor in the dim light of the candle. However, the second floor seems to be nothing more than a
place for the top of one ladder to deposit the climber at the bottom
of another. You can go up or down.
Go upward
You carefully climb up the ladder.

The third floor is nearly empty, except for a workbench of supplies
and tools for making ink. The monastery's most valuable manuscripts
and treasures would be here, if there were any such things. Instead, empty shelves and chests describe a potential for such things. There are four windows looking over the landscape: a northern window, an eastern window, a southern window, and a western window. You can go down to the second floor.

You cannot imagine what would be useful to Diarmat here.
You look at the northern window
To the north, you can see the open fields at the foot of the ridge. These ields used to be full of trees, but the Norse felled them all throughout a season of siege and raids that you would just as soon forget.
You examine the eastern
To the east, over the monastery yard and gate, you see the road
leading into hills and, ultimately, to the vallye of your king's homsetead. You cannot see that far, but imagine that you can see the smoke of his warm hearth.
You examine southern
The window looks over the wall, over Tuan and the frozen river, into a rough landscape of rocks and dead heather. A basin dominates much of the view before the frost fog obscures everything, denying the
horizon. You can just make out the ruins of the prior home of this order in the basin. It was a monastery enclosure much like their current home. It seems so similar, in fact, that you are not sure why they left.

You remember Diarmat's poem. This direction, this view of the ruined monastery to the south, is what is missing.

There is a small vial of red ink sitting on the window sill. Curious.
You examine the ink
(the small vial of red ink)
The glass vial contains a small amount of red ink. Brothers make red ink from bazilwood, vinegar, and gum. It looks like blood.
Go downwards
You descend the ladder.

You can not see much of the second floor in the dim light of the candle. However, the second floor seems to be nothing more than a
place for the top of one ladder to deposit the climber at the bottom
of another. You can go up or down.
Go downwards
You carefully descend the ladder.

The tower floors are rough hewn boards, linked by ladders. The first floor has some sacks of barley, and other odds and ends. You can go up to the second floor, or down to head back outside to the tower base.

The candle is down to about three-quarters of its original height.
You blow out the candle
You blow out the beeswax candle.
Go downward
You descend the ladder, closing the entrance door behind you.

Towers such as these protect valuable posessions and lives against raids. The entrance to the tower is several yards above the ground--more for stability, you have learned, than protection. The stone round tower rises three floors to a pinnacle of rough slate shingles. Windows peer in all four directions from the top floor. You can go up to the entrance and first floor.
Go southwest
A tall, and intricate stone cross dominates this side of the yard, guarding the entrance to the chapel to the east. In warmer months, pilgrims visit this landmark, gathering mud that collects at its base and wiping it onto their faces. The mud is all frozen now, and there are no pilgrims--only the evidence of the passage of monks, who have worn paths northeast to the base of the monastery's round stone tower, and south to the scriptorium.
Go south
The scriptorium is dark and oppressive, with a low ceiling. Tthe thick smell of burning peat and hours of toil of frustration hang in the
air. A dozen desks surround an open fire in the center of the room, around which parchments are drying on racks. Baskets with rolled parchments sit beside each desk. You can leave by heading north.

Brother Diarmat sits at a scriptorium desk, working feverishly and sweating profusely.
You give the ink to Diarmat
You hand him the vial, saying "The ruined monastery is in the basin to the south."

Diarmat looks at you, narrowing his eyes.

"Of course!" he exclaims. He take the vial and pours the ink into one of the bowls at the top of his desk. He writes in red, now. You watch as he forms each letter, slow and careful. The poem is soon finished.

north,
while our king sits before his warm hearth to the east.
The sea stretches west, to a promise of paradise,
while, to the south, blood seeps into our roots.

Diarmat smiles, regarding his work with pride. Then, he turns to you.

"Did you want something?" he asks.
You talk to Diarmat
"Brother Tuan heard that you--"

"He heard that I had a dream! He heard about my vision of Abbot Brandan."

Diarmat pauses, as if expecting you to confirm. You merely blink,
which seems to be enough. Diarmat continues.

"Tell Tuan that I saw Brandan crossing the river in a currach. He went to the ruins. He is not safe!"

You swallow hard. This is frightening.

"I will tell him," you say.
Go west
Through this simple wooden gate, three separate raids entered the grounds. First, the raiders from the sea. Then, twice, the soldiers of your king breached this gate to end disputes about their provision of protection to the brotherhood. The wall is strongest here, but elsewhere has slid into sloppy heaps. "Why bother?" it must be asking. You can enter the monastery by heading east, or walk south to return
to the river.

A soldier of your king sits on a stump beside the gate, his back against the wall. He is asleep.
You go south
The spit of land between the crumbling monastery wall and the river is a disaster of rutted, frozen mud. This is a gray March, locked in ice after the tease of a late February thaw. There are no tracks or roads, but you can walk north back to the monastery. Lines of hedges--puzzles of bone-like sticks and thorns--render travel in other directions too exhausting to consider.

Brother Tuan is here.
You talk to Tuan
"Brother Diarmat had a vision," you say.

Tuen turns to you and raises one eyebrow. His right. Always his right.

"Tell me," he says.

"Brandan took one of the currachs across the river. He crossed the river."

"Well," Tuan says, sighing. "We must cross the river."

Press any key ...
Southern Bank

You are a sight crossing the river, you and Tuan. The two of you
spin in the round currach, which almost tips more times that you care to remember. But you made it across to the southern bank.

Tuan stands in this new land as if he is an inhabitant, bracing
against the wind and looking toward the slope.

"We have crossed the river and we look for Abbot Brandan," he
says.

But you are not sure whom he is addressing. Is it you? Is it the
land, or the ruins that sit in the basin beyond the ridge? Or is it a declaration in the face of time that you feel has begun to misbehave? It was morning a moment ago. Now, the sky darkens and it is evening. But it could not have taken you that long to cross the river.

Yes, he declares the intention as if time has become misordered,
and his delcaration is all that establishes what had come just before, and what is coming next.

Chapter 2, and the rest of Navigatio ... coming soon!