Rusel-Worlds Journey 1: intro and extract

Court of the Mater of the Holy Reform Church - Jerusalem 1271 CE



My legs shook uncontrollably. Why me, why me, why me, I kept thinking over and over not able to stop myself.

“Please Archbishop, I’m too young, I’ve no skills, I can’t fight, please Archbishop don’t send me.” The Jaqubian Order Archbishop of Jerusalem smiled and laid a hand on my shoulder. There was no warmth in his touch only the rough pressure through the camels wool cassock I wore in this cool weather.

“Brother Maximillian Hart. You have come of age, and all who do so are given their first journey into the wilderness, as did our Lord.” I made to open my mouth again but the Archbishop silenced me with a shake of his head.


“You know this and we have spoken many times of the possible destinations of your journey. Remember that we have no say in where such journeys take us!” The Archbishop looked at me in that way of his that says, trust in the One true God my son, and remember your vows!
I could not still my trembling, and I began to weep.

“Come now my son, where is your faith!” The Archbishop took me by my shoulders then brought my head to his chest. “You are the most skilled linguist I have seen in all my years, so no more doubts.” He stroked my head in that way of his when he was being my father and not my Archbishop, then he slowly pushed me away.
“Now then,” and the Archbishop’s tone was sterner. “Brother Detlef will be personal assistant to Bishop Rodrigo. Your assignment in this crusade will be to assist him and to learn as many languages as you can,” and he gave me that knowing smile of his, “and to collect as many texts as you deem worthy of inclusion in our library, but choose wisely for you may not be able to transport all you would gather!”
I looked down at my hands, unable to meet his gaze and accept his false words of comfort. How dare he lie to me ...
I watched my hands shake with my every panicked breath. I was being ordered out from my beloved library to go east to the Seres, the Silk People, where some Prestor John was supposed to oversee a scion of a christian sect no one actually knew anything about. My dreams of someday being assigned to the magnificent rebuilt library in Constantinople, or my ultimate ambition, to the Imperial library in Palermo were shattered. I made to voice my reservations again, but the Archbishop silenced me with a glance.


“You are well known Brother Hart for your verbosity and I for one have heard your discourse on Aramaic. I also sat through the one on Farsi!” He grinned at me and gave me that other look, that knowing gaze he used when one of his flock was reaching above themselves.

“I am certain you will be safe where ever you travel, for as soon as any one hears you speak they will understand your heart and the depth of your concern for the truth; and they will trust you! Now,” and the Archbishop took me more firmly by the shoulders and steadied me.

“Steel yourself Brother Hart and have faith. You will be most assuredly as safe as you are here within these walls for there will be an escort of Justician Knights to accompany you. Along with their squires and pages; and an entourage of servants with farrier, chef, and apothecary!”


I drew a deep breath and tried to quieten my throbbing pulse. No matter the Archbishop’s words, I could not dispel the sense of dread that had sunk into the pit of my stomach and threatened to turn my legs to clay.
The Archbishop turned and I did my best to follow him from my cell with its single cot and small desk and candles. I took one last look and tried to follow without collapsing.

We made our way along the stone corridor from the cloister of rooms for those of us who served the Archbishop, past the Archbishop’s apartments then along the main corridor with its tapestried walls to the Great Hall of the Holy Council of Rebekkah, Fahtima and Mary. The Triple Throne of most Holy Jerusalem.

The Great Hall was full of people and I remember most clearly that it appeared as if the entire Imperium was represented there that day, such was the profusion of colours and uniforms. The hall itself was unchanged with its dressed stone walls as thick as a man is tall and built as such to be an inner fortress within the inner ring of defensive walls of the Holy City.

The Hall’s great roof was built from dense oak and not the pine so commonly used and which burns to a terrible heat when fire breaks out. The outer roof was covered over with thick tiles and so the Great Hall was afforded much relief from the worst of the heat of summer.

The Great Hall had been the first of Emperor Frederichs new constructions and was a statement not just of religious power but also of stability and security. It proclaimed to all who entered; we are here, and here we stay!

These reforms to Jerusalem by Emperor Frederich, our great Stupor Mundi, have been so glorious that Jerusalem was once again a great city of the world. Since his middle years when he rebuilt anew the great walls and then this Grand Hall, he has stayed here for half the year and the other in his favoured capital of Palermo. By this action he makes clear that Jerusalem is part of the realm and he of Jerusalem. With his sister as Queen of Jerusalem and Mater of the Holy Reform Church, no one dared question the divine right of our Emperor.

I saw gathered there that day, beneath the great beams and buttressed columns and dressed with the ornate hangings and tapestries; representatives of all the Knights Orders of the Empire I knew of, and to my surprise some that I didn’t. There had come to Jerusalem, more than I realised, held sacred this place.

I saw numerous bishops and deacons of all the churches aligned to the Frederichan Reforms of the Blessed Joachim. I saw Rebekkan Rabbis and Fahtimian Imams and most unmistakably Sufi Sheikhs of Jalal-ud-din Rumi’s Order. All had heeded the Maters summons to those who worship in Jerusalem, to come and give their blessing to this greatest of undertakings and to those whom the Mater had tasked to carry out the saving of the world.

Ah what a sight to behold, the centre of the Empire in one room!


“Brother Hart, close your mouth and keep up!” I realised that my Archbishop was standing closeby and nearly yelling in my left ear such was my distraction that I had not realised how close he stood to me. I stammered my apology and in a stumbling run tried to keep up with his purposeful stride through the crowd all dressed in their finery.

“His most gracious eminence the Archbishop of Jerusalem” announced the court Chamberlain. The Archbishop strode up to him and a hurried whispered conversation took place. The Chamberlain gave the Archbishop a most disdainful glance.

“This is most irregular, there has been no consultation, nor agreement. This was not meant to occur till all representatives of the various diocese had arrived!”

“Just get on with it Lord Chamberlain!” said my Archbishop with equal disdain. It was no secret that neither had any respect for the other. Each decried his ‘brother’s woeful personal habits’ and complete lack of respect for the other’s position. How the Mater tolerated their squabbling, I had no idea. It appeared she supported each equally and held both in high regard for their effectiveness of office.

“What have you to tell us Archbishop?” asked the Mater upon standing from her throne and making her way forward from the three thrones and her ‘Sisters’. Her robes flowed about her in waves of regal beauty, the likes of which I've never tired, for far from ostentatious, they stated her position most clearly to all who attained her audience. The Archbishop bowed gracefully and adopted a most humble stance.

“Your Holiness,” he began in hushed tones just for her ears. “It appears the Polos have made ready to leave on the morrow. Apparently some portent or other is most favourable and they would take ship before two days. They would then transit Alexanders Canal while such portents remain in their favour!”
The Mater was joined by the Rebekka and the Fahtima, her holy sisters of the Triple Throne. They whispered to each other and after much nodding the Mater looked past the Archbishop to me.


“Who is this?” My Archbishop was taken aback for he was about to launch into a tirade against the Polos and their command of this expedition and their impudence in demanding to leave according to their judgement and not those of the Court of the Mater.

“Aahh yess, aahh, your Holiness, if you please, may I present Brother Maximillian, assistant to Bishop Rodrigo and scribe to our Knight Commander of the Expedition to the Seres.”

“It is good, one so young and innocent, travels with them”, said the Fahtima in her Aegyptian arabic dialect.

“He will see everything and nothing”, added the Rebekka in Aramaic. I was puzzled at first then something happened in my mind and I smiled. She returned my smile and nodded, “of what do I speak Priest of the Christos.”


“Gracious Mother,” I replied in Aramaic. “If I may speak truthfully as I have been tasked to do so”, and I changed to High Jerusalemaic Hebrew, “then you say that I am young enough to see everything clearly.” I changed to the local Greek dialect, “not old enough to be blinded by rigid beliefs?”

The Rebekka smiled anew, turned, and walked across to the other side of the chamber whereupon many of her entourage took glances at me while she spoke. The Fahtima remained fixedly gazing upon me. Her dark brown eyes, pools of wisdom and prediction, then she too turned and walked off to confide in her officials.


“You have made a good impression upon my Sisters young priest,” said the Mater standing so near to me that her fragrance of myrrh and rose only added to my distraction. She extended her hand for me to kiss. “I pray that you continue as you have today and more so that your gift of tongues aids in bringing our quest, to a most propitious conclusion!” The Mater bestowed a most glorious smile upon me and withdrawing her hand slowly from before me, turned with great swirls of her intricately embroidered gowns and made her way back to her throne.

The Archbishop turned to me and smiled, “You my lad, are a better politician than you make yourself out to be!” and he clapped me on the shoulder. I was quite taken aback for something had just happened that I could not quite grasp the entire nature nor meaning of, yet the evidence for its impact was most obvious.


The gaze of the Fahtima, the question of the Rebekka and the smile of the Mater. I, I felt, as if I had been blessed. In somewhat of a daze, I stepped back from the edge of the crowd and let others take my position as the Archbishop began his address to the gathered throng.

His Holiness made great praise of our endeaavours and drew us all into a prayer for the success of our crusade. He then described those that would undertake this mission on behalf of the Triple Throne and the Empire and called forth each in turn to receive their blessing

I watched as our Knight Commander stepped forward and was blessed by the Mater and thanked by the Archbishop with personal gifts. The other Knights stepped forward in their turn, also to recieve blessings and what appeared to be gifts of gold and frankincense.

There upon followed the squires and pages; and then one by one, all the members of our expedition were spoken to and encouraged and blessed, including the farrier and apothecary.


“Brother Maximillian Hart!”  Somewhere I heard my name called but I could not discern from where. A hand grabbed my shoulder and shook me gently. My eyes gradually focused on the countenance of Deacon Antonia.

“Maximillian, come back to us now!” and she shook me gently once more. I roused myself from my reverie. It was as if my indwelling from some few years before had enveloped me once more in its revelation of spirit and I was again resting in the Bosom of the One.
Deacon Antonia ushered me forward with much fussing and tut tutting as to my distractiion. “There is a time and place for everything brother,” and once again I found myself in the presence of the Mater. Her smile was like light itself, and her voice reverberated within my heart and wrote its words directly on my soul.


“Remember that you serve me now Brother Maximillian. Do this for me above all else and record everything you can. Bring the testimony of this quest back to us. Do not hide from anything that you encounter for if we are to succeed in these endeavours we must know all we can of those involved. We must learn who are our true allies, and real enemies before God.”


With this the Mater drew me to herself and embraced me. In that moment she was my Mother.
“Bring us back, that which we need to continue to prosper!” she whispered and then drew me from her presence and kissed my cheeks and held my hands longer than I thought possible.

It was as if I had been born of her in that moment. Drew me at will from her very being as did the pagan goddesses of old. My heart pounded in my chest, my skin flushed and I felt all faculties fail me. I had been reborn, a virgin birth of the Mother herself.
Somehow through the rapture of that moment which faded not with the suns passage, I observed all else which occurred that long afternoon and with my wits return in the evening, I began to record the first pages of my journals of this quest, the Mater had blessed me with.

I had no inkling of what lay before me, even though I had sat through hours of Niccolo and Maffeo Polo recounting the tales of their journeys and their time with the Seres. It was as if I was immune to such details of commerce.
Niccolo’s son Marco was to accompany us so he too could make his fortune and it was his questions and summations that I remembered the most.


Marco was of my age and we had struck up acquaintance from our very first introductions, and this appeared to me to bode well for our journey. He was of an adventurous nature, with great excitment and optimism for our journey and his future. All I could see was doubt and the loss of my opportunity to join the great Library. Alas I feared I would not see much in the way of written works during this, so named Crusade to the Land of Silk.

And so it was that we were to horse that afternoon and made Jaffa the next day having stopped but a short while to sleep and rest that evening. We set sail with a north easterly wind behind us that very afternoon for the three ships were ready with crew and supplies and waited only our arrival.


We made the mouth of the Nile in some three days and well before the portents about which the Polo’s made little mention except to the Captain and Navigator of our vessels. I was unable to determine what drove their manner but the journey was uninterrupted and we navigated the lower reaches of the Nile in another few days.


I had never journeyed this far south and though all know of Alexanders Canal, I was most astonished by its engineering and the gates which open and close to allow ships to pass along its course from the Nile to the Red Sea and so out into the Great Ocean if the Indies.



The rest dear reader, I now lay before you and may these humble and honest words clear the doubt and frivolity that you may have encountered in relationship to our most wondrous journey to the Land of Silk and beyond, to the Great Southland.
The journey that changed the world.