Nostrum (The Scourge, Book 2) (40 page)

Episode 7: Historical Note

It was not my original intent to make the island fortress a monastery. I had in mind a windswept island off the coast, and a stormy boat journey in the driving rain for Sir Edward. But something happened to me on a day-trip to Norfolk that changed my mind. A man handed me a booklet on St. Benet’s Abbey, a place that had fallen into ruin in the area now known as the Norfolk Broads.

For those not familiar with the Broads, they are a series of interconnecting waterways and lakes that are believed by many to be mostly man-made. Why were these huge lakes and channels created? There is a lot of speculation, but in this episode, Edward tells us one of the most widely held views. Peat. In the Middle Ages, peat was one of the most common forms of fuel. It was used for ceramics, baking, glassmaking, brickmaking, brewing, and just about any process that involved running a hot fire for long periods of time.

What is peat? It’s basically a type of dead vegetation and soil, common in bogs and marshes. The northeast corner of Norfolk had vast amounts of peat, so men were hired to dig it from the earth. And dig they did. The massive pits they dug eventually flooded and created the many lakes of the Broads. And the channels? Some speculate that the channels were dug to allow the peat to be stacked onto ships and sent off to wherever the peat was stored and dried.

On that day in Norfolk, the day I was sold the booklet, I saw for the first time exactly what Edward, Tristan, and Belisencia saw: a ship sailing through a meadow. If you get a chance to visit the Norfolk Broads, I recommend visiting St. Benet’s Abbey, if only to see the miracle of sails cutting through pastures and fields, which they still do.

St. Benet’s never had the religious importance of St. Edmund’s Abbey, but it had a storied history. It was built in AD 1020 as a monastery for Benedictine monks, but even before that it was a place of religious importance. Hermits formed a community there in the ninth century, and churches were built and destroyed on the site several times before King Canute granted the land for the Benedictine monks.

Historians have pieced together what the abbey might have looked like in its prime and, sadly, we must rely on their vision. The monastery survived Henry VIII’s reformation only to fall into a slow spiral of decay and ruin. Fortunately, there are old illustrations and documents detailing what the church looked like and, in this story, I have tried to keep the descriptions as faithful to history as I can. The only embellishment I added was the bridge across the River Bure, outside the abbey. Edward always seems to need bridges where there were none.

There is not much left of the abbey now. A gatehouse that was turned into a mill in the eighteenth century, a few battered flint walls, and impressions on the ground of old fishponds. But the site is still consecrated, and an open-air mass is held on the grounds once a year by the bishop of Norwich.

When I toured the remains of the abbey and read the history of the place, I realized that I had found my island. Not only would it be unexpected for the fortress to be inland, but it was a real fortress on a real island; I wouldn’t have to invent one. Edward’s story is one that has always been grounded in history, and when writing it, I always prefer the resonance of true history to places I conjure.

Edward is healed (he hopes for the final time) by the alchemist using something known as Malta fungus. The fungus, scientific name
Cynomorium coccineum
, is real. It grows in the Mediterranean and in the Middle East. Crusaders brought some back to Europe and, as the alchemist points out, the Knights Hospitaller found a large store of it growing on a rock near the island of Gozo (one of the Maltese islands). The fungus was highly sought after by everyone, from the Europeans to the Chinese, as a curative for a long list of ailments, including infection. And modern-day science seems to cautiously agree with history: there is some evidence that Malta fungus can help with everything from HIV to impotence. Thanks to my copy editor, Marcus Trower, for pointing out this wonderful tidbit of history.

Episode 8: Historical Note

Sometime in the middle of the fourteenth century, a disease crept into England. Historians to this day still disagree as to the cause of the affliction, but whether it piggybacked into the country on fleas or hurtled in on nasal discharges, one thing is certain: the Black Death changed England more profoundly than any other event in history. There was no cure for this disease, but not from lack of effort. History records hundreds of attempted remedies. These ranged from eating crushed gems to drinking vinegar and water, from washing in urine to covering the victims with feces, and, perhaps one of the oddest attempts, rubbing a live chicken over the patient’s body. Chickens may be clever, but they weren’t smart enough to cure the plague.

The so-called Red Death in my story, Edward’s plague, would have been similar in many ways to the Black Death of the mid-fourteenth century. It is unlikely that the citizens of England could have developed a cure for Edward’s Red Death. Prayer was still seen as the primary weapon against such illnesses. And even in the Middle East, where science and medicine flourished among Muslim and Jewish scholars, it is doubtful that a cure would have developed, especially in such a short amount of time. But the concept of using dragon blood, though it might sound a bit fanciful, is not as farfetched as it may seem.

The dragon that Praeteritus kills in this episode was, as I mentioned earlier, a Nile crocodile that escaped from a menagerie into the waters of southeastern England (something that happened a few times in the Middle Ages). Crocodiles are very special creatures. They are fiercely territorial, leading to vicious fights among them. These fights result in terrible wounds, but the wounds almost never become infected. Odd, considering that crocodiles marinate in warm rivers seething with bacteria. Their ability to resist infections is so extraordinary that scientists have been studying crocodile blood for years. And their studies have yielded some amazing results. Apparently the crocodile’s immune system can kill HIV and a host of other infections. It is entirely possible that, in the future, new medicines for old diseases will be developed on the basis of these studies.

The power of dragon’s blood.

In this final episode, Belisencia revealed herself to be Elizabeth of Lancaster, daughter to John of Gaunt and cousin to Richard II. Elizabeth, in reality, was the feisty third child of Gaunt and eventually became the Duchess of Exeter. As mentioned in this episode, she was married to John Hastings, the earl of Pembroke, when she was seventeen and he only eight. But perhaps Elizabeth’s greatest claim to fame is as the sister of Henry Bolingbroke, a man whom Edward Dallingridge might encounter in a future Scourge novel. Elizabeth of Lancaster’s marriage to John Hastings was annulled in 1386, and she married twice more, finally finding happiness with Sir John Cornwall.

History has no record of her love affair with a knight named Sir Tristan of Rye.

As for Edward, his quest for the cure may be at an end, but he has yet to see Elizabeth’s smile. It is a long journey from St. Benet’s Abbey to St. Edmund’s Bury, and in these times of madness anything can happen on the English trails.

Acknowledgments

I would like to thank the countless employees of English Heritage and the National Trust for their tireless assistance. In particular, I would like to single out Mike Williams for answering my questions about Bodiam Castle and for providing crucial information about Sir Edward Dallingridge.

Thanks should go out once again to the Fairfield Scribes, the best group of writers and friends in the world. And to David Pomerico, my editor, for continuing to believe in
The Scourge
. Alex Kahler was the content editor for
Nostrum
, and I am forever in his debt for his unerring judgment and for motivating me to do my very best. I would also like to thank Marcus Trower, my copy editor, for his wonderful work with the manuscript and for his plot inspirations.

Most importantly, I want to thank my fiancée, Annabelle Page, for driving me anywhere I want to go in her country, for reading and critiquing each and every word I write (usually more than once), and for doing anything and everything I ask of her (without a single complaint).

About the Author

Roberto Calas has worked as a graphic designer, newspaper reporter, magazine editor, and once owned a company that sold swords and armor. The second-generation Cuban American is the author of
The Scourge
and
The Beast of Maug Maurai
, and is an aficionado of fencing, ice hockey, and history. He lives in Sandy Hook, Connecticut.

This book was originally released in episodes as a Kindle Serial. Kindle Serials launched in 2012 as a new way to experience serialized books. Kindle Serials allow readers to enjoy the story as the author creates it, purchasing once and receiving all existing episodes immediately, followed by future episodes as they are published. To find out more about Kindle Serials and to see the current selection of Serials titles, visit
www.amazon.com/kindleserials
.