The Saint And The Impaler

Chapter One

Location - Transylvania (The Avar Khaganate).

Time: 635 AD

The Night Of The Wolf

He was a simple peddler, seeking new villages in which to sell his many wares. He mostly sold bright beads of amber, dried spices, and seed, plus a host of exquisitely crafted everyday items useful for cooking, drinking, grafting, and some for hunting. His name was Yaromir Bakalov (although Yaro to his friends) ... husband to a doting wife, and father to three chaste (but lively) daughters. He missed them every day and all day, whilst out on his wandering work, sometimes being absent from his village for many days on end.

This region of the vast lands by the side of the great forest was unknown to him, and the trail that he followed was particularly tiresome, devoid of comfort, and tainted with loneliness. The scarcity of settlements and villages had thus far brought him meagre trade. Demetra, his horse, had pulled and dragged her master's large wagon for a full morn, and for the early part of an afternoon. The peddler had met not one soul along the way.

Yaro had then spent the remainder of that afternoon resting, feeding his horse, creating a fire for cooking, and then roasting and feasting upon a single rabbit, which he had caught the previous day.

He finished his meal, and then he rubbed some crushed anise seed (scooped from a small pouch on his belt) into his gums, particularly poking it around his aching tooth. Finally, he stepped amongst the trees, did his business in the woods, and cleaned himself with dock leaf.

All the while, he spoke softly to his faraway spouse, imagining her now being with him, telling her funny stories, and whispering sweet promises to delight her. He knew that she, in turn, would be doing likewise, as she went about her own chores, or while enjoying her favourite handicraft.

His skilful wife would make intricate carvings out of chopped wood, most often in the shape of animals of the forest. She would then offer them as gifts to good friends and local children. Others she would often sell to strangers who passed by their timber-built home, and many she vended at the local village market.

Her favourite of all was to make carvings of cats. She adored anything feline, big or small. She would even make sweet purring sounds when she and Yaro were intimate together in private. Yaromir walked back to his wagon, smiling at this thought, and yearning for her all the more.

However, it was now time to climb up again, and move onwards. He hoped to sell at least one decorative bowl or maybe one sharp hunting knife before the night stole the sun from the sky and the warmth from the air. Before this new ride began he spent a moment in prayer to the god Stribog, son of Perun, pleading for the heavens to be calm during this approaching night, should he find no shelter.

The trail that he followed took him along the outer edge of the great forest, passing tall trees to his left, as he headed southwards; trees tall enough to sometimes hide from him the high peaks of the Carpathian Mountain range that lay beyond this dense weald.

Meanwhile, to his right, stretching far westward, lay a vast expanse of rocky, rolling grasslands, hills, and small valleys. Beyond, more mountains formed a wall, coming from the South, but ending abruptly, exposing open plains to the North and West.

That way, at more than 80 leagues distance, in the land of Pannonia, battles occurred daily.

On this side fought the Avars, great horsemen and skilful riders, descendants of the long-departed Huns.

On the opposing side fought the Slavic "Wends", under the rule of Samo, a powerful Frankish merchant.

Yaro and his people, though themselves descendants of Slavs (and of the Romani), were permitted to live in peace among the local ruling Avars, on condition of neutrality.