The Snow on the Cross Read Online Free PDF

morning meal, passing the cups around to each man.  For a brief moment, I
envied them and wished I had decided to join them at their camp the night
before.  Their boisterousness was certainly a contrast from the dreary silence
that shrouded the monastery.
    I descended the tower and expressed
my blessings and thanks to the brothers before I left.  They touched my head
and prayed with me once more before my final goodbye.  One of them presented me
with a small gold cross on an iron chain.  I thanked them all again and left
for the seashore.
    I found the ship as I had left it the
night before: creaking uneasily and bobbing wildly against the waves.  The
Vikings had not descended from their camp yet, but I could see the smoke from
the fire.  I knelt by the sea and took a handful of the sand as I waited.  A
wave splashed against my hand, and I was stunned at how cold the water actually
was.  I looked again at the ship.  It threatened to capsize simply being tied
up near the rocks.  How would it survive the journey over the sea?  I had never
even learned to swim, and I kept imagining myself pitched overboard into the
deathly icy water.  Perhaps the Vikings would save me, perhaps not.  What if
the entire ship sank?  What if we were all thrown overboard in a storm?  Who
would save me then?     Le
Mans was in the
interior of the country, so I never thought much about traveling on the sea. 
Why should I?  I had everything I needed from land.  I would leave the sea to
the sailors.  I would work the earth and plant my garden.  The earth was
something you could hold.  The water would slip through your fingers.  Put your
trust in the land.  It is stable.
    I turned and saw the Vikings
descending from the hill where they had camped.  Bjarni was laughing at
something and seemed to be pointing at me.  They must have been looking at my
face, which I imagine had turned quite white from looking at the ship.  My fear
was obvious.  You cannot throw an old man into a ship and expect everything to
be fine.
    “Ah, Bishop,” remarked Bjarni as they
drew closer.  “A fine day to sail, don’t you think?”  H e looked up at the sky,
which had turned quite gray since the dawn.  “A good day, indeed.”
    I was sure he was telling me this to
put me at ease.  I did not think it was a good day to sail.  I thought it was a
good day to go home.  Bjarni motioned at the others, and they boarded their
ship.  It was long and narrow enough to rest directly on the beach and Bjarni
and one other man was pulling on the ropes to drag it up.  When they had
secured it, Bjarni stepped aside and gave me invitation to board.
    “Do not worry,” said Bjarni as I
hesitated.  “I have sailed many years, and I would know the way home
blindfolded.  Go aboard.  The others will help you.”
    That being said, I took one more
glance at the land, felt the solidness beneath my feet, and climbed aboard the
creaking little ship.
    ***
    It was well that I had eaten a light
morning meal, for God, in His wisdom, made me lose it before we had left sight
of land.  After the Vikings pushed off the beach and began their rowing into
the channel, Bjarni gave the command, and a large square sail flapped down from
its ties and puffed into its full form.  The sail was adorned with the bright
red image of an axe, but before I could ask what the crest represented, as I
looked up at the sky, an overwhelming dizziness swept over me, and I found
myself lying on the deck trying not to let my head roll off the side.  My
stomach pulsed, and I knew I was going to be sick.
    After I had heaved all of my gruel
into the sea, I could only lie there helplessly and listen to the Vikings’
laughter.  The ship kept leaning further and further to one side, and I kept
wondering if I should move to the other side to balance the ship upright again. 
But I couldn’t move, and all I could do was stare at the dark sea as my chin
rested on the edge of the ship’s