Birgitta the Nun

Part 28 - Another Village

The journey continued sullenly. The merchant was sullen because of Birgitta's wasteful manner. The nag was sullen because of the extra load. And the nuns were sullen because the sullen air infected them.

However, despite their slow and sullen ride, they did make progress. And by and by they approached some kind of civilization. The fields took their slow leave, and instead, trees started gathering along the road. Soon some roofs could be discerned among the shrubbery, whereupon the sound of commerce followed. It was a village. A very small one - almost too small to be called a village - but still it could have no other name. In its impressive smallness it managed to contain all the essentials: a church, a few houses, some ragged children looking homeless, and an inn. And on the other side, an enormous forest rose, giving the small civilization a sturdy back to lean on.

The gray old nag entered the minor civilization and swelled a little. She straightened her back and lifted her head—and suddenly she didn't look so gray and old anymore. Maybe she was looking out for other carts and horses to impress? Or maybe she was just truly vain—who knew? But a proud horse she would turn out to be. And a sort of pretty one. The abbess hadn't noticed this before, and took care to point it out to the merchant. The merchant agreed with pride, and the nag swelled some more.

The nuns inspected the church from afar, not really dazzled. They made no attempt to approach it. It had nothing of the grandeur of the monastery, and naturally they felt some kind of distrust. Anything residing in there had to be of the lurking kind.

This parish was foreign to the nuns, still no amount of curiosity could be evoked. The moment to widen their horizons and inspect different traditions had not yet come. They both seemed to agree—not just now, not just yet.

Birgitta was surprised a holy building could look so cold. The sun reflected in its colorful windows, cast bright little spots around the churchyard, still it seemed raw—indeed, almost hostile.

"We need to make a stop at this inn," the merchant said, steering the cart towards a suspect looking building. "I've got business to take care of."

"Oh no—no more inns," the abbess said, trying to make a polite but firm protest.

"Yes, it will be good," the merchant continued. "A little roof over your head has never hurt anyone. Only for a short while—"

"Oh no—you fooled me once, but not twice," the abbess replied. "The stew was alright, but I haven't got time for unintelligible receipts or bar-fights. Offer me a bed and I might reconsider, but otherwise I'm all against it."

"Let's visit one of these inns," Birgitta said, letting her voice be heard for the first time that day. "Let's see what all the fuss is about."

"You won't like it," the abbess said. "They're crazy these tavern-people." She looked determined and tried to explain to Birgitta that this was not the kind of place receiving nuns with open arms.

"But you know—I've actually never been in a bar-fight," Birgitta speculated, as if not receiving the information at all.

"There will be no bar-fight," the merchant objected.

"I'll be fine," Birgitta continued, not really listening to either of them. "So what am I supposed to do? Curse them, or what?"

"Good luck with that," the abbess snorted. "You try that, dear Birgitta, and I'll stick to the whip." She snatched the horsewhip from the merchant, and held on tight.

"The last one was a minor incident," the merchant continued to object.

"A minor incident?" the abbess cried. "You lashed that poor crazy lady right in the nose."

"Wha-at?" Birgitta made big eyes. "Now you're making me curious—"

"Anyway," the merchant cut off, "let's get this horse some rest and refreshments." She had made up her mind and stopped listening to the chatter of the nuns. The horse followed orders and brought the cart to the gates of the inn. The gates were tiny, and so was the building, but otherwise the inn was a most regular-looking one.

The merchant descended in front of its very small windows and made sure to look important and attract attention. But before she approached the gates she turned to fix the nuns with her gaze. She narrowed her eyes, "And take care to lie low sisters—or I won't take you with me."

"We promise," Birgitta said, clapping her hands in excitement.

The abbess muttered to herself and examined the horsewhip. But she made no further objections.

A young girl met them at the gates and took care of the horse. It was given plenty of refreshments and even some grooming. The merchant cheered up. And so she decided to bring her travel companions inside. But she kept an extra eye on the overly excited Birgitta.