Arrival of Augustine of Canterbury
Augustine of Canterbury and his band of 40 monks have just arrived on the outskirts of Canterbury after a perilous journey across the Channel. They stand at the edge of a new world, preparing to make
Setting
The outskirts of Canterbury, near the River Stour, where Augustine and his band of 40 monks have just disembarked from their boats. The area is a mix of open fields and scattered settlements, with the beginnings of a Roman road leading into the town. The ground is soft from recent spring rains, and the air is filled with the sounds of nature and distant human activity.
Characters
Augustine of Canterbury
primary
A middle-aged man of Roman descent with a lean, ascetic build from years of monastic discipline. His olive complexion is weathered from travel, with deep-set brown eyes that convey both weariness and fervent conviction. His tonsured head shows graying dark hair around the edges, and his hands bear ink stains from manuscript work.
Monk
secondary
A lean man in his late 30s with a tonsured head and a weathered face marked by years of ascetic living. His deep-set brown eyes show both fatigue from the journey and quiet determination. His hands are calloused from manual labor and prayer beads.
Village Elder
secondary
A weathered Anglo-Saxon man in his late 50s, with a thick gray-streaked beard and deep-set blue eyes that have seen many winters. His frame is sturdy from years of farm labor, with broad shoulders and calloused hands that grip his walking staff tightly. His face bears faded ritual scars marking him as a leader among his people.
Young Boy
background
A thin, wiry child of about 8 years old with sun-bleached brown hair cropped short and a smattering of freckles across his nose. His bright blue eyes are wide with curiosity, and his skin is lightly tanned from outdoor life.
Dialog
Augustine of Canterbury
We come bearing the light of Christ's benediction to this fair land, good elder, sent by holy Gregory of Rome to dwell among you in peace.
Village Elder
Your White Christ's blessing we know not, Roman. These fields answer to Woden's will when the plough cuts earth, as any man knows.
Monk
Pax vobiscum... that is, we mean only to share our bread and our God's word, if you would hear it.
Village Elder
Your bread may be welcome when winter bites, but your god-words? Those we must weigh like barley at harvest.
Augustine of Canterbury
Then let us first break bread together as neighbors, that we may prove our intentions as wholesome as our wheat.
Monk
Domine, the hour grows late... should we not seek shelter before nightfall?
Village Elder
Aye, night comes swift as Thunor's hammer. You may camp yonder by the ash tree - but no closer to our homes till we know your hearts.