CHAPTER 11 – HONEDA
We started loading the wagon at dawn in order to arrive as early as possible at the citadel. A freezing wind blew in from the north forcing Uncle and me to work harder to keep warm. The package was a load of tools. All the orders that the uncle had managed to close with traders and acquaintances in the region. We hoped to deliver everything and return home later the same day; he didn't want to let Aunt Martha spend the night alone. His patience, care and attention to her was something truly admirable. The concern for the future and her aunt's safety in case he was missing was a constant. The blacksmith's trade was heavy and exhausting, and he was no longer the robust and bragging boy he once was. To make things worse, orders have decreased a lot recently. However, according to him, the situation has improved a little with my arrival. As for me, I was immensely happy to be able to provide some comfort to that kind heart. I felt agitated, restless; I couldn't contain my excitement to finally meet the famous Balga. Since my arrival, I have remained isolated in my aunt and uncle's house, and only work occupied my time. When we finally finished, the first rays of sun broke through the horizon and a thin, sparse snow began to fall. We had our morning meal and said goodbye to Martha, who seemed more excited about going to the city than we were.
The road to Balga was flat, with gentle curves and long, monotonous straights. It caused little bounce to the cart, which helped the animals' performance. I couldn't contain myself; I devoured with my eyes every piece of the landscape that was unveiling itself. The cold had turned colder in the middle of autumn, and in some places in the distance, on the highest points, snow had begun to accumulate. Groves of maples, oaks and elms dotted the landscape in a variety of colors. I smiled like a boy as I realized that I now looked at each tree, bush or flower with some knowledge. All thanks to Aunt Martha's lessons. I got them every time we went to the woods together, in search of herbs, spices and fruit. I had quickly gotten used to being someone and belonging to a family, I could no longer imagine my life without them. On the last part of the trip, almost at the entrance to Balga, a steep and rugged climb served as a not very warm welcome to the already exhausted travelers.
The Citadel of Balga was the capital of the county with the same name. It was established on a high plateau, which made it stand out in the landscape. The residents had a complete view at every angle, from the coast of the Vistula to the valley where the uncles' house stood. About a kilometer away from the center of town and practically on the shore of the Lagoon was the impressive castle of Honeda. Headquarters of the Empire of the Teutonic Order for the peoples of the region. It was built of the noblest material that could be found at that time. Massive bricks of bright red clay taken from the muddy mouth of the Passarge River, baked in giant kilns operated by Prussian slaves. In charge of everything as the Voivode of the region, Bishop Karvelis. A private person, very little was known about him. He was seen in public only at church services or on special occasions. As a ruler, he was cruel and disliked. He had imposed heavy taxes on crops, and forced every family with at least one convert to his church to pay what he called tithes. The uncle explained that it was one tenth of everything they could plant, harvest and sell that month. As a religious, he was an extremely charismatic and engaging preacher. With a voice that ranged from soft to thunderous, he quoted passages from the Bible, the holy book of the Christian crusaders in such an exciting and true way that many inhabitants had been converted in the early services. Most resisted longer, but everyone in the region, had at least one or two family members already professing this faith. I asked Uncle to explain a little more about the beliefs of the Teutons and their church. The man looked annoyed, yet he explained to me in his own words what he had heard from some acquaintances who had converted.
- Well my boy, according to the fundamentals of religion, there is a place of extreme suffering located deep in the earth called Hell. A place of scorching heat and eternal flames, where the souls of the unconverted will eternally suffer the indescribable torments. In order to save themselves from this terrible fate, it is enough for a person to declare him/herself a Christian. That is, to believe in Christ, God's only son. A being that is somewhere up there in Heaven, following the life of each one of the people who live here on Earth. This being is omnipotent and rules the destiny of all human beings; he would have the power to say who will live and who will die. Who will be rich and who will crawl through the streets in misery? Who will suffer from disease, and who will be healthy and die at the age of one hundred. Once a place in Heaven or Eden is secured for themselves, believers will meet this Christ and his father God and live an eternity of calm and tranquility!
At the end, Master Aldo sighed and looked at me in a way that discouraged any further questions. As everything was new to me, only one doubt remained.
- But Uncle, if religion is such a good thing, and if these places heaven and hell really exist. Why do people have to be conquered by force? I questioned.
- That is what many people in Prussia also wonder, my son! If this is a truth above what we poor mortals can understand, and a will of such a powerful superior being. It would then spread naturally and not under the shadow of the sword!
However, that's enough now kid, no more talking about things beyond our comprehension, we are getting there and we have a lot to do!
I turned one last time in the direction of the castle, in that light its unusual red seemed more impressive. He seemed to float in a pale, immaterial haze. His oppressive presence emanated some kind of energy that hit me hard. A strange sensation suddenly overcame me. A discomfort and a distressing urgency that never left me.