SPACE CONQUEST

It was a lovely evening... Even the women washing linen in the waters of the bay looked somehow different, more festive... The sun, declining towards the west, colored their white frocks and kerchiefs purple...

They were beginning to collect their things and set out for home, when a horseman appeared on the road. He galloped across the village in clouds of dust and hurried up the hill towards the fortified monastery.

The hoofs clattered on the wooden bridge leading to the western gate - then the yard resounded with the hollow echo of the heavy brass knocker. The door opened slowly, the echo repeated the grate of hoofs on the pavement and the crash of the closing gate.

At the same time one of the canons impatiently threw away a sheet of parchment stained with ink and started dictating the letter anew. "Write, then. As before - Frauenburg, the fifteenth day of September. Anno Domini one thousand five hundred and fourteen... Ready? Now: My Dear Uncle...I send my regards and hope... However the letter was never to reach bishop Watzenrode... A knock on the door... " Brother Nicolaus, Brother Nicolaus! You have a guest from Rome! He is here! You will see him, won't you?" " Yes, Brother Andrew! Well, you're lucky, boy - off you go! We shall finish writing tomorrow".

Granny Agatha has suffered from insomnia for many years. What can a lonely, old woman do, when bothersome thoughts whirl around her head and sleep won't come? Agatha can always find something to do - she would darn old clothes or go to the forest to gather some herbs which are most potent when the moon is full... That's why she was the only one to see something really peculiar..

Just before dawn, before even the village cocks started to crow, two horsemen in gray left the monastery and headed west. But no one in the village believed her story. She must be crazy, they said, everyone knows how dangerous the roads are nowadays... Who would dare to set off in the dark?

>TO THE WEBSITE -© 1987 Slawek Wojtowicz
http://www.slawcio.com/myart.html