Angelina of Glastonbury--and the Devil's Wall [A.D. 1147] V
[Angelina’s Diary AD 1206] “Phillip, my son and Grandpa Pepin, so named after the son of the Great Emperor, Charlemagne—was a great man of tales, and although I know them to be fictitious in some details, they are not all in total; matter-of-fact, I know from a piece of information much truth resides in this one. But I will tell you my son, as your Great Grandfather told me, I will tell you a tale of tales, and to be quite honest, I’ve yet to decipher completely what is exactly truth from fiction, but I do have a secret; therefore, you can let me know how you stand on the matter, OK?”
“Ok, mama, as you say,” said Angelina’s oldest son Phillip (six and a half years old).
“It was in the year 1147 [AD], your great grandpa was but 14-years old then, and ran off to join the crusaders to move against the Moor’s. He was part of the 30,000-man force, warriors and knights from Germany, the Anglo-Normans, and the Flemish and of course the Portuguese. The city was being held by 5000-Moors. They had these huge belfry’s [manmade wooded towers that allowed you to be lifted up to the top of a castle’s wall], a number of them, and fire-arrows of the Moors, which they cast upon them like fireflies, destroyed them all. But in the end, at the end of the skirmish, it was in October of that year—if I recall, they brought down the great walls of the city, due to a new belfry, which they had built. They had brought the wall and the Moors to surrender. Thus the new Portuguese King now had a Capital, and your great grandfather was of course in this great battle.”
“But what is so strange about this mama…?” asked Phillip in an anxious manner, wanting more details, more explanations, and more descriptions of the battle.
“Oh, yes, yes, indeed,” said Angelina with a twinkle in her eye, “I see I did leave out a few incidentals, did I not! ‘Noyllopa’ was her name, I do think she was a female, I could be wrong, but all my instincts tell me it was a she; anyhow, I shall get right to the point (Phillip now engrossed into his mother’s story, eyes as if in a trance waiting for the next sentence).
“She was a morbid creature, green and black, dark red lips, and a long thick next—with big bloodshot eyes, and three hanging fangs, whipped and drooped over her lips; ears large and pointed, and eyebrows stretching back over her brow, and bald head, she was bald as a baby’s behind. A diverse, if not whatsoever creature of some sort, of some demonic sect: deadly looking, so grandpa said, told me.”
Hastily, Phillip got closer to his mother—lest he miss a word or two.
“Yes indeed, he was a cynical looking creature, a misfit if not a demon in disguise. There was no beauty in this creature, but it showed some enthusiasm for grandpa. Surely grandpa thought it wanted something, but war had cornered him in every direction: they were in battle. Every arrow they shot at the Belfry, the creature intercepted by a countermine of movements. He had no fear for even the catapults. Thus he received all the fire arrows from the Moors—at will, but they still got burnt down, and they eventually got destroyed.
“But that day the day of the Siege of Lisbon, grandpa had made a deal with this ghoul of shorts, odd, big eyed creature: she said to grandpa, ‘If I help you win the battle, would you be my prisoner, agree to take me to my home, and stay with me until I die, which will be soon?’ and grandpa agreed to this deal. I mean things did not look too good that day. And right after the deal was made she started to catch hundreds of arrows quicker than before, as if she could control the situation: putting them out in her mouth. Yes, yes, son—in her mouth, unbelievable, but she did, and this allowed the tower to be saved from the fire arrows; hence, now it could be set against the walls and the soldiers ran up the ladder, into the tower area, and jumped across the gap, onto the great walls of the city, and stopped the storm of the skirmish, and in so doing, turned the tide of the war, the battle for the crusaders, and as we now know, it was won by us; but a deal is a deal, grandpa would say, and he had to make it good.”
“So mother,” asked Phillip, “what was the real deal?”
“Well I guess son, there is always a trick to everything when it comes to such matters, but a Knight, even if he senses it, must make good his promise, otherwise he would have no shame, no blood in his face. Anyhow I shall explain what took place. He had told grandpa she was very old, older than Alfred the Great, should he had still been living, and this creature helped escort the Saxon forces against the Norse intruders back then, back in the 9th century. So I guess she was old indeed. According to this personage, someone from up in the clouds left her behind, by the moon or beyond it. It is hard to tell such stories, but it is as grandpa told me. Consequently, he lived in Germania, within one of the towers of the Devil’s Wall. Again I imply, she was found to have fought in many wars, she liked killing, and could not be killed, she was too swift, too fast, too cleaver, compared to those who lived here on earth, and again I’m unsure where exactly she came from, but beyond the Moon, so she told grandpa. So again I say she lived in the old Roman wall tower: in one of them, in Germania. And grandpa followed her to this place. And he expected her to die shortly after. Well, things did not work out like that. The old she goat lived, and after two years grandpa got irritated, and one day, out of the blue, sliced her head off with his mighty sword like one slices bread I suppose, when she was eating dinner.
“Grandpa thought the creature was waiting for him to do it because she was no weakling, and was faster than an arrow, and couldn’t kill herself perhaps; and was tired of the lust for war.”
“Mom,” said Phillip, “Grandpa really had some good tales, if only they were true.” Angelina looked at Phillip strangely, and, said, “True, so you think it was false, do you?”
“Of course mother, don’t you?” said Phillip. Then Angelina pulled out three long sharp teeth and gave them to Phillip, “Here,” she said, “when I was your age, grandpa gave these teeth to me: they belonged to her: now you can have them, and figure out what is truth and want is not.”
“Ok, mama, as you say,” said Angelina’s oldest son Phillip (six and a half years old).
“It was in the year 1147 [AD], your great grandpa was but 14-years old then, and ran off to join the crusaders to move against the Moor’s. He was part of the 30,000-man force, warriors and knights from Germany, the Anglo-Normans, and the Flemish and of course the Portuguese. The city was being held by 5000-Moors. They had these huge belfry’s [manmade wooded towers that allowed you to be lifted up to the top of a castle’s wall], a number of them, and fire-arrows of the Moors, which they cast upon them like fireflies, destroyed them all. But in the end, at the end of the skirmish, it was in October of that year—if I recall, they brought down the great walls of the city, due to a new belfry, which they had built. They had brought the wall and the Moors to surrender. Thus the new Portuguese King now had a Capital, and your great grandfather was of course in this great battle.”
“But what is so strange about this mama…?” asked Phillip in an anxious manner, wanting more details, more explanations, and more descriptions of the battle.
“Oh, yes, yes, indeed,” said Angelina with a twinkle in her eye, “I see I did leave out a few incidentals, did I not! ‘Noyllopa’ was her name, I do think she was a female, I could be wrong, but all my instincts tell me it was a she; anyhow, I shall get right to the point (Phillip now engrossed into his mother’s story, eyes as if in a trance waiting for the next sentence).
“She was a morbid creature, green and black, dark red lips, and a long thick next—with big bloodshot eyes, and three hanging fangs, whipped and drooped over her lips; ears large and pointed, and eyebrows stretching back over her brow, and bald head, she was bald as a baby’s behind. A diverse, if not whatsoever creature of some sort, of some demonic sect: deadly looking, so grandpa said, told me.”
Hastily, Phillip got closer to his mother—lest he miss a word or two.
“Yes indeed, he was a cynical looking creature, a misfit if not a demon in disguise. There was no beauty in this creature, but it showed some enthusiasm for grandpa. Surely grandpa thought it wanted something, but war had cornered him in every direction: they were in battle. Every arrow they shot at the Belfry, the creature intercepted by a countermine of movements. He had no fear for even the catapults. Thus he received all the fire arrows from the Moors—at will, but they still got burnt down, and they eventually got destroyed.
“But that day the day of the Siege of Lisbon, grandpa had made a deal with this ghoul of shorts, odd, big eyed creature: she said to grandpa, ‘If I help you win the battle, would you be my prisoner, agree to take me to my home, and stay with me until I die, which will be soon?’ and grandpa agreed to this deal. I mean things did not look too good that day. And right after the deal was made she started to catch hundreds of arrows quicker than before, as if she could control the situation: putting them out in her mouth. Yes, yes, son—in her mouth, unbelievable, but she did, and this allowed the tower to be saved from the fire arrows; hence, now it could be set against the walls and the soldiers ran up the ladder, into the tower area, and jumped across the gap, onto the great walls of the city, and stopped the storm of the skirmish, and in so doing, turned the tide of the war, the battle for the crusaders, and as we now know, it was won by us; but a deal is a deal, grandpa would say, and he had to make it good.”
“So mother,” asked Phillip, “what was the real deal?”
“Well I guess son, there is always a trick to everything when it comes to such matters, but a Knight, even if he senses it, must make good his promise, otherwise he would have no shame, no blood in his face. Anyhow I shall explain what took place. He had told grandpa she was very old, older than Alfred the Great, should he had still been living, and this creature helped escort the Saxon forces against the Norse intruders back then, back in the 9th century. So I guess she was old indeed. According to this personage, someone from up in the clouds left her behind, by the moon or beyond it. It is hard to tell such stories, but it is as grandpa told me. Consequently, he lived in Germania, within one of the towers of the Devil’s Wall. Again I imply, she was found to have fought in many wars, she liked killing, and could not be killed, she was too swift, too fast, too cleaver, compared to those who lived here on earth, and again I’m unsure where exactly she came from, but beyond the Moon, so she told grandpa. So again I say she lived in the old Roman wall tower: in one of them, in Germania. And grandpa followed her to this place. And he expected her to die shortly after. Well, things did not work out like that. The old she goat lived, and after two years grandpa got irritated, and one day, out of the blue, sliced her head off with his mighty sword like one slices bread I suppose, when she was eating dinner.
“Grandpa thought the creature was waiting for him to do it because she was no weakling, and was faster than an arrow, and couldn’t kill herself perhaps; and was tired of the lust for war.”
“Mom,” said Phillip, “Grandpa really had some good tales, if only they were true.” Angelina looked at Phillip strangely, and, said, “True, so you think it was false, do you?”
“Of course mother, don’t you?” said Phillip. Then Angelina pulled out three long sharp teeth and gave them to Phillip, “Here,” she said, “when I was your age, grandpa gave these teeth to me: they belonged to her: now you can have them, and figure out what is truth and want is not.”
posted by Dennis and Rosa Siluk at 5:26 PM
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