the number how many witches were burned in Scandinavia in the 17th century
Now that sounds like exciting history! At school there was this elective subject I was lucky to choose called Warfare through the Ages, it was my favourite subject throughout all of school. The teacher brought in his home-made chain mail and we had our own swordfights etc.
Anyway on with the show...
Chapter 2 cont.
By now the pair was approaching the harbour where they noticed a small crowd of people had gathered. Intrigued by the commotion, Lionel and Francois moved towards the crowd before noticing Balthazar the Almain, a Sergeant-at-Arms, amongst the group. He was so called because he was the only German Knight on Malta aside from the Grandmaster. Most Germans preferred to join the Teutonic Knights instead.
“Good morning Sergeant. What’s all the commotion about?” queried Francois.
“Sir, it seems as though a French fleets is wanting to enter the harbours” said Balthazar pointing to the array of sails on the horizon. Despite the years he had never mastered the Italian Language, being instead complacent enough with being generally comprehensible; in particular he had never learnt the correct use of plurals. The two Knights looked out towards the horizon and in the same way that stars seem to make themselves more abundant the longer you look, so did the French ships.
“We best tell the Grandmaster!” exclaimed Lionel as he motioned Francois to turn around.
“Nevermind sir, I’ve already sent a mans” said Balthazar.
The three men stood there amongst the crowd silently for a moment trying to take in what they were seeing. Why would the French fleet come to Malta, a neutral port? Could it be the prelude to an invasion? It seemed unthinkable but they had all heard stories of Napoleon’s callousness.
“You two are both Frenchs are you not Sirs?” Balthazar broke the silence upon realising the connection.
“Well...” said Francois with a sigh as he looked at Lionel to do the honours.
“We were once” continued Lionel. “But the land in which we were born and bred is no longer. We have not been back there for over ten years and cannot go back now. Malta is our home.”
That was all Balthazar needed to know, he had enough wits about him to fill in the gaps. It was a difficult subject for both Lionel and Francois and they tried hard to block out their sorrowful pasts. They both came from Valognes in Normandy where their families lived as part of an enclave of nobility. The Bourbons had always treated their families well and life was peaceful. By the time the revolution came they had both joined the Knights and moved to Malta. The peasantry rose up and sought out all the nobles in Valognes. What happened to their families, they do not know but were forced to assume the worst.
Lionel thought about his closing words. In light of what his eyes were seeing it begged the question, for how long?
Suddenly from behind the three men came rolling the distinctive strut of the big Austrian Stefan von Schwarzenberg. His gait alone was enough to define him as coming from a princely family but beyond that he was also blessed with a physically imposing frame and a face that would require no embellishment if ever somebody was to paint him.
“What be this?” He asked coldly.
“A French fleets sir! A dozens of ships. Are they expected?” asked Balthazar. Stefan was on the Sovereign Council a had a good chance of knowing what was going on.
“Most certainly not. I’ll have to inform the Grandmaster and the rest of the Council.”
“I’ve already sent a mans to the palace. Sir.”
“What do you make of this?” asked Lionel of Stefan, who was standing motionless except for a slight wincing of his eyes.
“I wish I knew. But it doesn’t look good does it. I can see only three reasons why such a fleet would come into a neutral port. One, if they had recently been heavily damaged either through battle or by a storm, which doesn’t seem too likely in this weather. Two, they have run out of food or water, which seems improbably for a fleet of that size and professionalism. Or three, they intend to invade.”
“Well I hope that the British and French fleets have just fought a major battle and that these are the defeated seeking refuge and assistance.” Said Francois barely hiding his joy at the possibility of a Republican defeat. “Not that we condone any such things but for our own sakes it’s better to have to heal a wounded soul than have to fight off an invasion.”
“Indeed. But I somehow don’t think that this fleet looks too damaged.” Responded Lionel.
“Oh well, there’s not a lot we can do at the moment. The council will have to meet and we will hear what the French want and then decide on a course of action.” Stated Stefan. “Until then I suppose we can only go about our business as usual. I had better return to the palace.” With that Stefan strode away as nonchalantly as he had appeared.
“I’ll come too” said Balthazar and he hurried off behind him leaving Lionel and Francois alone to gaze out to sea.
“Come on Lionel, let’s continue to the hospital. If word gets out that a French fleet has arrived another fight could break out.” Said Francois
“How do you propose we go about business as usual with THAT sitting out there and our doom quite possibly within sight?” Lionel was visibly distressed.
“We must be brave Lionel, like our saviour. Remember Jesus saw his fate well in advance but still approached it with dignity and grace. Perhaps this is god’s test for us now, to see how we react.”
“You speak as though our fate is sealed Francois.” Lionel was somewhat offended.
“Far from it. I only say that despite the circumstances we need to keep the faith.”
“Alas your right my brother. I’m sorry, it’s just this has all come as such a shock. Come on then. Whilst the ships appeared on the seas like the stars do in the sky, like the stars, watching them will bring us no closer to seeing our future.”