The Eye of Erasmus

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by Teresa Geering




  The Eye of Erasmus

  Erasmus The Omnipotent

  by

  Teresa Geering

  ISBN 1453634754

  EAN 9781453634752

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or

  transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

  'The Eye of Erasmus' is published by Taylor Street Publishing LLC, who can be contacted at:

  http://www.taylorstreetbooks.com

  http://ninwriters.ning.com

  “The Eye of Erasmus” is the copyright of the author, Teresa Geering, 2010. All rights are reserved.

  All characters are fictional, and any resemblance to anyone living or dead is accidental.

  Chapter 1

  The 30th October was a beautiful autumn day, remarkably warm for the time of year. A weak sun appeared through rain filled clouds. Agastine, heavy with an overdue child, stopped walking and supported the baby with both hands around her stomach.

  For most of the morning there had been constant movement. Maybe at last she could bring this infant into the world, she thought contentedly. Gently with her right hand she caressed the child and he seemed to settle. She had borne six daughters and this time she was convinced the child was a boy.

  She had carried him for nine months and everything had been different this time. It had not been an easy pregnancy and on many occasions she had taken to her bed, more by necessity than choice. Agastine had already chosen the name. Her husband had smiled at this. Whilst he was assured in himself that he would have another daughter, he gave in to his wife’s whims.

  Tiring now, she sat down on one of the rocks and, removing her shoes with difficulty, allowed the gentle movement of the waves to cool her feet. Her mind wandered back to summers past, growing up with her beloved sister Drendell. They were both fascinated by the seashore and spent endless days playing on these rocks when the tide was out. Sadly she was no longer around and she missed her dreadfully.

  The previous year she had been hung as a witch.

  Drendell had been trying to help a new baby boy who had trouble breathing. Her potions had always worked in the past but this time she was unsuccessful and the boy had died. A rejected admirer spitefully accused her of being a witch in the hearing of a couple of villagers and the word had spread and magnified.

  She had been dragged from her home in the middle of the night and hanged from the oak tree in the centre of the village. Agastine, although overwrought on hearing this, rushed out to retrieve her body. With the help of a passing stranger who took pity on her, she wrapped Drendell in a sheet and took her away on an old cart she had pulled herself. In doing so she had lost the baby she was unaware had been growing inside her.

  This child she was now carrying would be in memory of her beloved Drendell. Agastine loved all her children dearly but this one would be special.

  With a deep sigh she struggled to put her shoes back on and pulled herself up slowly with the aid of a nearby rock. She then made her way back to the cottage, sad in heart for her sister.

  At one thirty in the morning of the 31st October, the storm broke with earnest. The full moon, at times covered by the darkest of clouds, competed with the fork lightening which ravaged the sky accompanied by heavy rolls of thunder. The fifty-foot waves crashed mercilessly against the rocks surrounding the small cove. Nothing was spared by the cruelty of the sea. Boats high up on the beach, assumed to be out of harm’s way, were lifted up by the waves then dashed against the rocks and splintered into driftwood. This would be collected for kindling at the earliest opportunity to top up fires needed in the winter months. One person’s loss was another man’s salvation.

  At nineteen minutes pass two exactly, a thunderbolt struck the roof of Agastine’s cottage. In an act of defiance to the weather, Erasmus entered the world.

  Chapter 2

  The timing of Erasmus’s birth was crucial. Fate had decreed that he would be born on a predicted date and time to coincide with the birth of a young woman in another era.

  This was not his first life on this earth though; there had been others through many aeons of time. Erasmus, of course, was not aware but this lifetime would be the most significant of all. He had been predestined with special gifts and these would begin to materialise around the age of pubescence.

  Erasmus was a beautiful child, born with masses of curly black hair. He had large, penetrating, blue eyes with long black eyelashes which formed a fringe to cover them. Wherever his parents took him he always commanded attention both from women and men. His smile lit up his face but, when chastised or reprimanded, a black scowl would appear and his blue eyes would turn almost black. Some folk, called it the evil eye when out of earshot of his family.

  The only blemish Erasmus received at birth was a small mark at the base of his spine.

  By his fifth birthday, although beloved by his parents, his sisters had grown wary of him and tended to stay out of his way whenever possible. If they upset him he would say nothing but just stare at them. His eyes seemed to penetrate the depths of their souls.

  Family members and friends who could spare him some time took on his education mostly from his home.

  During his free hours in the spring and summer months, Erasmus wandered along the beach by himself regardless of the weather, amusing himself by studying the flotsam washed up by the tide. He was completely independent and preferred his own company from this early age and he knew no harm could come to him provided he didn’t venture too near the sea edge. The seas surrounding the Devon and Cornish coastline were notoriously dangerous at certain times of the year and one hundred foot waves were not unusual in the depths of winter.

  As time went on, his confidence grew and he undertook to educate himself where possible with help from his family when it suited them. He seemed to be mature beyond his years and his parents’ pride in him was self-evident, and he in turn returned their love.

  At the age of seven however he suffered a major blow when his father was killed in an accident. He had been collecting salvage from a ship blown off course during bad weather. A rope had been securely tied at one end to a metal ring which was embedded in a rock on the shoreline and the other end had been tied round his waist. The pounding of the waves had loosened the rope around his waist and he was washed out to sea. His body had never been found.

  Erasmus was inconsolable for many months and even his sisters took pity on him. Eventually he realised that he would have to take over the responsibility of his family and earn enough to keep the family together. He began to rise with the dawn and take to his bed at sunset, earning money where he could but taking time to pour over his beloved charts at every opportunity.

  He could predict the weather with remarkable accuracy by the time he was nine by merely studying the skies. He even made his own simple charts, which impressed his elders. Erasmus spent many hours alone but he never felt lonely and this would hold good for the rest of his life.

  Chapter 3

  During winter nights, when the family sat around a roaring fire, he would make new charts, which now included the stars’ movements as well as those of the sun, moon and tides. Because of the accuracy of his work Erasmus had earned the respect of the fishing community. Fish was one of the mainstays of their diet and a good catch meant full stomachs.

  During this time his sisters would fashion seashells into necklaces and other trinkets, partly for amusement but mostly to sell in the markets around the coast. When the sea was calm they were allowed to go in their own small boat to the next cove where a midweek market was held.

  On the eve
of his tenth birthday he was walking along the beach around the bay. His charts were under his arm, and he looked for a suitable rock to sit on whilst studying. A couple of local girls called Viorena and Clarissa, whom he knew to be sisters, came towards him.

  They were about his age but he only knew them vaguely. Erasmus hated to be disturbed and most of all by any females. Having six sisters was bad enough and he considered them all to be beneath him. This set his black mood. By now he knew that when he was angry his eyes turned black and some folk were fearful of this. It was his secret weapon.

  Recently, though, he had discovered something else that he was keeping to himself. If he concentrated hard he could read people’s thoughts. It had frightened him at first and he wanted to tell his mother but something stopped him. He enjoyed the power it gave him even in his tender years. Many times he had used it to his advantage and now as the girls approached him they started to laugh and to taunt him.

  “How be Erasmus? Still making out your silly charts?” Viorena asked.

  “Can you make the moon come out during the day Erasmus?” Clarissa asked.

  “You stupid children,” he said in a very grown-up manner. “The moon is frequently out during the day but you can’t always see it”.

  “My dad,” went on Viorena going in for the kill,“ says the moon only comes out at night to light our paths.”

  “Enough!” screamed Erasmus, his eyes turning as black as coal. His face in a mask of hatred, he stared at both of them in turn. As he did so they both began to rise slowly from the ground and floated several steps backwards before landing back on their feet again. The two girls went white with shock. Terrified and shaking, they cowed away, turned and ran.

  Erasmus, although surprised by what he had achieved, was secretly pleased and the laugh he gave turned into a heinous cackle. So it begins, he thought. Unsure why he had made the remark, but pleased with it, he turned back to his work and charts.

  Chapter 4

  In the intervening years, until his sixteenth birthday, he matured into a very good looking man. Many women chased after him but he was indifferent to them. His only female interest was his mother who had never remarried after the death of his father although she had many suitors.

  Many times she remarked to Erasmus “He was my one love and so it shall be until we are joined again.”

  His sisters, who were all older than him, had married by now and left home. He was an uncle many times over and in his opinion he intended to stay single. Women were a curse and a nuisance and he didn’t need them in his life.

  By the time he reached his twenty-first birthday his opinion of women had not altered. He had already achieved the experience of being with a woman. He had used her and then cast her aside. He had also realised the potential of his good looks. Woman almost literally swooned at his feet and he had his pick of many when it suited him.

  His mother, Agastine, was in the depths of despair. The beautiful boy that she had reared with such love and devotion seemed to be turning into a monster. He treated women with distain and she could not understand this at all. She decided to visit Tula the soothsayer and allow her to show her the future. Many times she had visited her in the hope of making contact with her beloved sister Drendell, but so far to no avail.

  She made her way along the seashore wrapped in a long warm cloak. The hood, which was tied at the neck, protected her head from the bitter cold wind coming off of the sea. Never mind, she consoled herself; the warmth of fine spring days was just around the corner.

  Tula lived in an isolated cave set back in the rocks which formed part of the cliff. She had deliberately chosen the cave because she preferred her own company and it was also protected from the ravages of the violent winter storms. All she needed she had around her.

  Agastine had to negotiate a couple of large slippery rocks and then climb upwards to reach Tula, but she enjoyed her company and the climb was always worthwhile.

  The entrance to the cave was very low. Agastine had to bend almost double to get in but thereafter it opened out to a large cavernous space where she was able to stand erect. Although there was a feel of damp about the cave, the large fire gave off warmth and took away the immediate chill. To one side were the remains of a meal that Tula had cooked over the fire and, on the other side, on an old white cloth that was now blackened with age and had seen better days, were her crystal ball and the animal teeth she cast to tell the future.

  Agastine looked around but could not see Tula at all. Maybe she was at the back of the cave in her bed, thought Agastine.

  “Ah, Agastine, I have been expecting you, my dear,” said a voice from somewhere off to the left.

  Agastine jumped.

  “Tula, you surprised me,” she said, still unable to see her and waiting for her eyes to adjust to the dark.

  Instantly a woman wearing a long black dress with an old woollen shawl round her shoulders appeared in front of her. Her long straggly but surprisingly clean hair hung around her shoulders.

  “Come and sit down here with me on this blanket, Agastine. We can warm ourselves by the fire.”

  Agastine did as she was told. She had the greatest respect for the talents of the woman and also considered her a true friend. Tula had befriended her when her sister had been killed.

  “So, Erasmus is it then?”

  Agastine was no longer shocked that the woman could see what was on her mind without asking.

  “Yes, Tula, he has changed so much. What do you see for him?”

  The old woman looked into the crystal ball which had been cloudy but had now cleared.

  “The timing of his birth was crucial as it coincided with the birth of a beautiful young woman, but I will come back to that in a moment. Firstly we will talk of his powers which you are unaware of.”

  As Tula looked into the crystal ball, she could see an image of Erasmus. He had grown much taller since she had last seen him. His black curly hair was shining in the sunlight and came over his forehead just reaching his eyebrows. It hung at the nape of his neck where it flicked upwards but in a random manner. Yes, she thought, I can see why many maidens would want to run their hands through his hair. His body was now lean but very muscular, an attribute made obvious by the tight fit of his clothes.

  “Well, Tula, what is it that can you see?” Agastine asked impatiently.

  What Tula saw in the crystal ball disturbed her. She decided to confirm it by casting the teeth, an ancient form of rune stones. Confirmation was given to her in what they showed. How on earth do I tell his mother, she thought? She had always given to the querent whatever she saw in the ball but this was a bit different.

  Firstly Tula decided she would tell her about the woman born at the same time as Erasmus, which would give her time for a decision.

  “Well, Agastine,” she began, “at the exact moment of Erasmus’s birth, in another land and time, a baby girl was born. Her given name is Shasta and she is also predestined for many things. Their lives will run on a parallel course until, at a time chosen by fate, they will meet.”

  Over the next two hours Tula told her everything that she could see, leaving nothing out. Agastine listened intently. From past experience she knew that Tula would now be exhausted.

  Rising, she reluctantly left the fire’s warmth. She wrapped her cloak round her, said goodbye, and slowly walked back to her cottage. Her thoughts were in turmoil. Over and over she thought about what Tula had told her.

  This Shasta was a very gentle woman and she and Erasmus would apparently meet very soon.

  She felt mixed emotions about her son’s future and by the time she had reached the cottage she felt exhausted. The wind was at its strongest and it left her thin body chilled to the bone.

  Inside the cottage she removed her cloak and warmed herself by the fire. The cooking pot, suspended from a chain and hook deep within the chimneybreast, gave off a wonderful aroma of broth. She took down a mug and filled it to the brim. Whilst warming her hands on the mug,
she slowly sipped the contents. Eventually it began to seep its warmth even through to the deep chill of her bones.

  Sitting back in her chair and momentarily closing her eyes she relaxed her body ravaged by constant childbirth. She loved each of her children equally, but Erasmus had crept into her soul. She always knew he was destined for greater things from the moment he first moved inside her. Time will tell, she thought, as she drifted into a fitful sleep.

  Chapter 5

  “No one can touch me. I am omnipotent!” screamed Erasmus to the roaring waves as they splashed him with salt spray.

  He was feeling especially good today. Facing the sea with hands held up high, he shouted it again for good measure. He loved days when the wind roared and whipped up the sea to a frenzy. Turning his back to the sea, he began climbing up on to the rocks and walked towards his special cave. It was situated at the bend of the cove and he had chosen it deliberately because no one ventured this far. Set back in the rocks it took some finding. On one occasion he had walked past it and, if he could miss it, so would others.

  Taking a final quick look around him he ducked inside the cave. As with most of these caves it was set above water level and perfectly dry. Once through the entrance there was ample room to stand straight. Looking around he viewed everything with satisfaction. Near the entrance was a large pile of kindling wood gathered after a recent storm which he topped up as stocks got low. The remains of a previous fire faced towards the entrance. He had checked and double-checked that no one could approach from the back of the cave and surprise him. Beside the fire was a bedroll as occasionally he worked long into the night and slept there.

  In neat piles, on oilcloths, were his beloved charts. Here he could work in peace without disturbance. His mother had challenged him many times about staying away but he just shrugged her off. On bright mornings at sunrise he often just sat at the cave entrance watching the sea ebb and flow. Occasionally he caught a fish for breakfast with a crude rod and line.

 

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