An Uncertain Journey

The trek upriver was arduous, paddling and sailing against the current. Because of their slow progress, Thomas felt a sense of freedom he had rarely experienced since leaving Judea; at least Lord Orylander gave him the pretense of not being a slave. Other than those times when he was called to examine and rebandage His Lordship’s wound, which was daily and always with a prayer, he and Croenius had little to occupy their time than to stand on deck and take in the passing countryside, which, in itself, was unique.

Almost immediately after leaving the docks at Minnagara, the landscape transformed into a congested world of humanity making full use of the sacred river. Holy men in bold-colored loincloths with acolytes close at hand stood ankle deep in water on rock-hewed stairs while they intoned a blessing to unknown gods. Close by, women in long, colorful wraparound garments either washed clothes or bathed their children, oblivious to the priests and other distractions, such as older siblings who splashed in the river for pure pleasure. As they journeyed farther inland, it was not uncommon also to see elephants with their caretakers semi-immersed along the river’s banks, while ancient temples and other monuments with weathered facades jutted out to the river, as if drawing sustenance from the holy waters. A comforting warmth imbued everything with the chatter of unseen birds, carried by a gentle wind perfumed by seemingly unending greenery. To Thomas, it was mesmerizing.

“Comforting, isn’t it?” Croenius said over Thomas’s left shoulder as he came up on his companion from below deck.

Thomas turned and shrugged with a half smile.

“It can get to you,” he said, almost for his own benefit.

“I’ve seen that look before,” Croenius replied. “You’ve got something more serious on your mind.”

Thomas thought for a moment.

“I was just thinking back on how far we have come and how different this world is than the one we left. The one I followed preached to a desperate people who yearned for a savior. And I accepted that world; I was a willing participant in advancing that message of hope. Yet when the time came, I did not understand why I should be the one to risk my life in order to take the Master’s word to an alien people. Now, somehow, looking at what surrounds us,” Thomas said, turning to the port side of the boat and studying the passing landscape, “I feel like I am being drawn to a mission. And I almost look forward to it. Does that seem strange to you?”

Croenius hesitated before he spoke.

“Yes. Then I never walked with a god.”

Thomas turned abruptly and scowled.

“Hold on, friend!” Croenius continued, stretching out an arm. “I was not trying to disparage your Master. You have to admit that your stories are exceptional. Even you have had doubts.”

Thomas slowly backed down.

“About this mission, yes. But not about the Master and his message. I just cannot see myself as a likely candidate to change the world. I am just a simple carpenter.”

“As was your Master,” Croenius responded with a slight grin.