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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2064673-Jackdaw-and-Knave
Rated: 13+ · Fiction · Comedy · #2064673
Two monks leaving the monastery for good.
Dark skies with even darker clouds threatening to thunder forth a torrent at any moment filled the heavens over the gloomy funerary hill. Wandering along the tiny path that led to the top of St. Christian’s Cemetery Hill, were two monks, both in their late-teens and equally oblivious to the impending storm. Their banter was completely in contrast, being as light and playful as it were, and the way they stepped assuredly along the path no one would guess they are both blind.

“Oh Brother Knave, surely you cannot believe that women truly love romance? Firstly, when have you ever really been with a woman except the breast of thy own mother?” said Brother Jackdaw in a mock jabbing voice.

“Better that than having been fed by monks wearing false nipped wine bottles filled with goat’s milk!” laughed Brother Knave.

“The nerve!” cried Brother Jackdaw in a fake shocked voice, “I shall never recover from such knowledge, who told you this, the friar?! I know for a fact, my mother was canonized for even having bore me to this world! She died in childbirth and happily as she knew no greater joy would befall her in this life!”

“I beg to differ, for she never knew the joy of me! I would have shown her the path to true bliss, with just a kiss upon her fanny”, Brother Knave said a little too loudly.

“Enough!” Brother Jackdaw practically shouted, “By my count we are almost upon the summit of our small hill. Here…”, his voice momentarily trailed off as he rummaged the deep pockets of his monk’s habit, “yes, here is the chalice, the loving cup, the magical vessel from which any woman drinks becomes enamored of he who presented her with drink.”

With that Brother Jackdaw started faster up the path, for his keen hearing allowed him the ability to move much stealthier than Brother Knave. As he did so, he immediately felt a small wind that carried the scent of woman and perfume to his nose. Following toward that smell, he heard a soft sigh and drew closer. She seemed to be seated at the stone table near the summit of the hill, but why a woman would venture here at this hour was a mystery and a boon! He could try the chalice on her, his first conquest on their journey away from the monastery. “Far away and never to return”, he silently reminded himself as he drew closer to the lovely scent.

“What ho!?! A holy man? Bless me father! I have left my home and am awaiting a friend to meet me here these three hours past, but she has not come with her kinsmen to collect me, I fear something may have gone awry”, the woman smiled impishly for she knew he was blind and she was trying to trick him into sympathy.

“I am no father, dear, I am merely a monk in training, Brother Jackdaw, I am called, and I may be able to help you. Alas, alack and allay, I am blind and need your assistance to be seated” he said holding out his hand, as if it were necessary, for he knew this hill better than the stones it held.

She rose and said, “My name is Daisy,” and she took his outstretched hand, as she led him to the stone bench he knew so well, she continued, “my family lives in Deveron and my good friend Madame Tarilyn was to fetch me there to return to them from my husband’s family. After he passed, they treated me poorly and better to be home with family than unwanted with in-laws.”

Just as he was seated, they heard footsteps on the path.

Another woman who had been silent and watching from behind the tallest standing stone peeked out a little further to see who was coming up the path. She saw Brother Knave and ducked back behind the stone.

“Hurry Daisy, you should drink of this wine,” and Brother Jackdaw had deftly poured wine into the loving cup he had stolen from the monastery’s treasure closet, “this will help you calm your nerves and soften your mood to wait here a while longer for your good friend.”

“Sir! Methinks you are a holy man, at least in training, I know thee are blind, but you must know by touch that this is a whoring cup?! This is the cup that your friar has whores drink from after confessions of their sins. I-I will not drink of it!” Daisy said stifling the laughter that wanted to burst forth.

As she finished her last sentence, Brother Knave approached her cool as you please and said, “Milady, do not take offense, Brother Jackdaw was born without manners or knowledge of the fairer sex. Please do not leave us, for I am blind as well and we will need you and your good friends to guide us on our journey, if you could have mercy to do so?”

He had said it so imploringly and his dark eyes looked as though they could see her, but she waved her hand in front of them and they remained glassy and fixed.

The big buxom blond aptly named Daisy for her delicate face and fair hair, despite her over abundance in curves, moved closer to Brother Knave and whispered, “Go ahead love, fondle me dearly and I will help you on your journey.” He instantly knew that she was not a lady, but a whore and probably a good one.

Brother Knave smiled and shook his head, backing away he heard a rustle up ahead and felt it was not the wind. He jumped forward and luck was with him, for he bumped right into Tarilyn who was trying to escape her position behind the tall standing stone back to the path. They both tumbled down and laughed.

Brother Jackdaw listened to all of this and thought everyone to be laughing at him. He drank the wine in one gulp shoved the chalice back into his deep pocket and grabbed out a dagger.

“What’s the meaning of this laughter?!” he cried out in hurtful anger, “Have I been made a fool? Did I leave the monastery for this?!”

Swinging around, he pointed the dagger so accurately at Daisy she swore he could see. She jumped back and made to run behind one of the stones, when Brother Knave stood up in front of her instead.

“Brother Jackdaw, put away your ill feelings for these women. Our laughter was not in jest of you, it was at the joy of freedom in this night. I believe the Lord has sent us these women to guide us into a better life outside the monastery. Your first lesson should be that if you forget your baser ambitions of having a woman fall at your feet from a magic goblet you will find one stand at your side!”

Brother Jackdaw laughed then too, put away his dagger, and pulled out the wine flask and goblet and said, “Let’s all drink to the adventure then!”

Off the path, toward the town of Deveron they walked, completely ignorant of the dark and dangerous figure following them from a distance.
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