Visitors At the Abbey
By ABS and Donna

Their errands done in town, the two young Amish brothers, Daniel and Moses Hochleitner rode in silence with the outsider that was staying with them in their
community. They were driving a matched team of sturdy horses who had no problem at all pulling the weight of the buggy laden with supplies and the three men. Leaving the town, they turned onto a dirt road that would eventually lead them to their farms. As they turned a corner, Daniel suddenly pulled the horses up, his mouth open in astonishment. Gone was the flat farmland that was their home. They were now surrounded by snow-covered mountains!

At that moment, a large black horse appeared, bearing two riders. One was tall, and well made, dressed in black. His head was bare, though, and his hair was nearly white. Behind him was a younger man, dressed in a much poorer way. They seemed like something out of the past to these men who shunned the Modern world; but even their own meager clothing was nothing compared to these two riders! They seemed to be coming out of the Middle Ages!

Behind them, on a rawboned dapple-grey, was another man, dressed in a similar manner to the knight, if that was what he was, or squire. This man’s clothing
was of earth tones, green, brown, grey. He seemed to be chasing the men on the enormous black, and with some conviction, too!

"Gott in Heaven!" Moses gasped. "Who are these men, Daniel? Where are we?" Beside him, John Book reached out and grabbed the reins, turning the horses so that they and the buggy blocked the narrow road.

The big black barreled down upon them, and the younger Moses hid his normally smiling face in his hands as he prayed in German. His older brother looked at Book
like he was crazy.

The black slid to a halt beside him, rearing high and making the team prance in place nervously. Behind him, the grey did the same, bewildered looks on all three of the men's faces as they too realized that they were no longer where they had been before.

But the last man looked the most stunned of all of them. Getting blithely down from his horse, he looked at the young man, who was shivering as he held on to the man in black. Overhead, they all heard the cry of a hawk, but the man on his feet ignored it. “You’re not the same!” he said, trying to pull the wretched boy from the black. “Where did you come from?”

"I am called Phillipe the Mouse, great sir! Were you chasing another youth that looked somewhat like me?" he asked, squirming to get loose. Behind him, the man on the black held his hand lightly on a huge sword.

“No,” said the other. “He looked nothing like you. Neither was he horsed in such a grand fashion, and with such a champion as this to protect him! I confess I am at a muddle. Where could my fugitive have gone, to be replaced by you? And why are we in the mountains, when I was giving chase near Shrewsbury?”

"Shrewsbury?" the boy gasped. "I know of no such place. Do you, Captain?" The man on his horse sighed deeply. 

"This is not where we were either." He looked at the three men in the buggy, all dressed in strange clothing. "Is it the same for you, or can you tell us what sorcery is this that has brought us all to this place?" 

“We were in Pennsylvania,” said Daniel. “We are Amish.”

The last man shook his head. “I know not Amish, but I am Hugh Beringar, Sheriff of Shropshire under King Stephen. I was chasing a thief, and suddenly he was gone, with these two in his place. You and your cart stopped us, and now we are all here, in a muddle!”

Book had jumped out of the buggy and was standing beside it, shivering in the winter air. "What’s that, over there?" he asked, pointing down the road that the men had galloped down. There, on a distant hill, was a peaceful looking abbey.

“At least I am still near to an abbey,” said Beringar. “Come, let us go there. We will be given shelter, food, and time to sort out our questions.”

Book climbed back up into the buggy as Phillipe was assisted up behind Captain Etienne Navarre. "Let us ride then," he said, turning his magnificent stallion to go back the way they had come. Beringar followed on his much poorer one, but he had chosen this horse from finer ones and loved it. 

As they neared the monastery, he did not recognize the place, as he had hoped he would, and none of the monks that first came to welcome them seemed familiar. But
then a voice, seemingly from heaven, yelled, “Hugh! Praise God, it’s you!” The gate flew open, and to the Sheriff’s relief, Brother Cadfael appeared. "Come in,
come in! You all must be half frozen," the monk called out. " Have you just arrived? If so, welcome to Edan!"

“Edan?” asked Beringar. Book echoed him, and the monk, lifting a kindly hand, waved them all in and off their mounts, so the other brothers could take them in hand.

“I will explain all, when you have come in and gotten warm. Where have these poor souls come from, that they should be so poorly dressed? No matter, come;
there is a fire in the priory. Our Abbot has gone to Camelot but we make do well enough here without him.  Prior Paul was the next in experience, and we had two
Pauls so found making one a prior helped limit the confusion!”

"Camelot?" Book gasped. "Not *THE* Camelot? And where in hell is Edan?" 

"Such language, Book," Daniel chided. "I know you are English, but this is a house of God!" The monk chuckled at the interchange as the newcomers were ushered inside where they could warm up in front of the huge fireplace.

“I said all would be explained,” he said. “But yes, it is *the* Camelot, and probably the only place for such as you, Hugh, though I shall miss you terribly.” He indicated the man in black, Navarre. “This fine fellow, as well. As for you three,” Cadfael regarded
them critically, “I should think you are farming folk, from what you have in your cart, and the pease in your hair. Farms are southwest of here, nearer the town of Edan.”

"Are the farmers there simple people such as ourselves?" Moses asked curiously. 

Daniel was curious too, but he was more concerned about going back to his Amish family. He asked Brother Cadfael if there were any way that they could return
to their homes, already sensing he would not like the answer. 

“One minute now!” said a ruffled Cadfael. It was clear he did not want to be rushed with too many questions. Then he went on to tell them of the nature of Edan. “Apparently,” he said when he had explained how people got there, “some are from the future, almost all the future to me! Arthur and his court come before my time, but many come from the following centuries. Some live simply, others have memories of
ways far past what this land can provide.”

The two brothers exchanged glances. "If God has brought us here, it must be for a purpose,” the older brother said firmly. "We cannot question why, just be prepared to do His will here in this place, as we would back on our farm in Pennsylvania."

“That I firmly believe,” said Cadfael. “We do not know how or why we are brought here, but it is a lovely place, and people have made new lives. Hugh,” he said, turning to his friend, “I have not heard of strife at Camelot, but clearly that is your place, for they have knights, but no sheriff.” He turned to Navarre. “You, dear sir, might go on there, as well.  I assume none will stay here, in the cloister, past a few days to rest and get one’s bearings.”

Navarre nodded, stepping over to a window. Up high in the sky, a hawk could be seen circling the abbey. If they were no longer in France, how could he possibly break the horrible curse that had ruined his life!