I was a student there. My father was a reciter in the chamber house and wanted me to be a prester someday.”
They studied the Commentaries, the New Books. It awakened in Perkin a desire for the Old Books, the holy Scriptures themselves.
“But they wouldn’t teach us from the Scriptures,” he said. “I never understood why. It seemed the preceptors couldn’t be bothered with God’s word. They said we wouldn’t understand it. We’d have to go to the great seminary in Obann, they said, if we wanted to learn about the Scriptures.
“And I got to wondering why, for all my studying, I wasn’t getting to know God any better. In fact, I got to wondering if there even was a God. He certainly wasn’t in our seminary.
“So I left. I didn’t know, anymore, what I wanted out of life. I went out onto the plains to be by myself. Don’t know why I did that; it just seemed the only thing to do. That’s how I became a wanderer.”
Ryons thought of Obst, who left his seminary studies in Obann and went to Lintum Forest to become a hermit. But Obst had brought a Book of Scriptures with him and spent years and years studying it.
“Out here,” Perkin said, “the thought crept up on me that there really is a God and that we never hear Him because we don’t know how to listen. We never see Him because we don’t know where to look. And I remembered a verse from Prophet Ika, a famous verse that’s cited in many of the Commentaries: ‘Because they will not honor me, I have drawn a veil of folly over their eyes so that they cannot see, and put a buzzing in their ears so that they cannot hear, and clouded their minds with self-love so that they cannot understand. But one day they shall see with their eyes and hear with their ears, and understand their faults; and all shall be astonished, and some shall repent; and I shall save them.’”
He talked like Obst, Ryons thought; and in his own heart, now, he hungered for the Scriptures. But he hadn’t yet learned how to read them. Everyone was so busy in Obann, and there was never time for anyone to teach him.
Perkin went on. “I don’t know how it happened. Walking all around, seeing what there is to see, trying to count the stars by night, listening to the birds by day, being out in all kinds of weather—well, it was sort of like I just woke up one morning and knew that God was here, and that He’d been here all the time, and always would be. And for God, ‘here’ means everywhere.”
He sighed, leaned back, and rested against Baby. Pleased, the great bird shut its eyes.
“I still haven’t read the Scriptures, though,” said Perkin. “Never had a book, you see. Ain’t likely I’ll ever see one, either.”
I know where we can get one,” Ryons said. “I mean, in Lintum Forest.” Obst had a cabin in the forest. He meant to take Ryons there and teach him the Scriptures, but never had the opportunity to do it. Maybe the book was still there. Helki would know. “Could you read it, if we had it?”
Perkin grinned. “I’d make it my business to read it, Your Majesty!” There was something about the way he said “Your Majesty” that made Ryons laugh out loud, and the way Ryons laughed made Perkin laugh. Cavall raised up his head and wagged his tail.
Down below on the plain, in the dark, some creature howled: something much bigger than a wolf. Cavall stood up and went stiff all over. Baby opened one eye.
“What was that?” Ryons said.
“Don’t know. But it won’t come up here while we have a fire, so don’t be afraid. The Lord will get us to Lintum Forest, sure enough.”
Ryons believed, and his fear subsided.
Hiking by night, Ellayne and Jack heard something very similar and froze in their tracks. Wytt stood on tiptoe, sniffing the air.
“Big animal,” he chirped, “with bad smell.”
“What kind of animal?” Jack whispered.
“Don’t know.” That he didn’t
They studied the Commentaries, the New Books. It awakened in Perkin a desire for the Old Books, the holy Scriptures themselves.
“But they wouldn’t teach us from the Scriptures,” he said. “I never understood why. It seemed the preceptors couldn’t be bothered with God’s word. They said we wouldn’t understand it. We’d have to go to the great seminary in Obann, they said, if we wanted to learn about the Scriptures.
“And I got to wondering why, for all my studying, I wasn’t getting to know God any better. In fact, I got to wondering if there even was a God. He certainly wasn’t in our seminary.
“So I left. I didn’t know, anymore, what I wanted out of life. I went out onto the plains to be by myself. Don’t know why I did that; it just seemed the only thing to do. That’s how I became a wanderer.”
Ryons thought of Obst, who left his seminary studies in Obann and went to Lintum Forest to become a hermit. But Obst had brought a Book of Scriptures with him and spent years and years studying it.
“Out here,” Perkin said, “the thought crept up on me that there really is a God and that we never hear Him because we don’t know how to listen. We never see Him because we don’t know where to look. And I remembered a verse from Prophet Ika, a famous verse that’s cited in many of the Commentaries: ‘Because they will not honor me, I have drawn a veil of folly over their eyes so that they cannot see, and put a buzzing in their ears so that they cannot hear, and clouded their minds with self-love so that they cannot understand. But one day they shall see with their eyes and hear with their ears, and understand their faults; and all shall be astonished, and some shall repent; and I shall save them.’”
He talked like Obst, Ryons thought; and in his own heart, now, he hungered for the Scriptures. But he hadn’t yet learned how to read them. Everyone was so busy in Obann, and there was never time for anyone to teach him.
Perkin went on. “I don’t know how it happened. Walking all around, seeing what there is to see, trying to count the stars by night, listening to the birds by day, being out in all kinds of weather—well, it was sort of like I just woke up one morning and knew that God was here, and that He’d been here all the time, and always would be. And for God, ‘here’ means everywhere.”
He sighed, leaned back, and rested against Baby. Pleased, the great bird shut its eyes.
“I still haven’t read the Scriptures, though,” said Perkin. “Never had a book, you see. Ain’t likely I’ll ever see one, either.”
I know where we can get one,” Ryons said. “I mean, in Lintum Forest.” Obst had a cabin in the forest. He meant to take Ryons there and teach him the Scriptures, but never had the opportunity to do it. Maybe the book was still there. Helki would know. “Could you read it, if we had it?”
Perkin grinned. “I’d make it my business to read it, Your Majesty!” There was something about the way he said “Your Majesty” that made Ryons laugh out loud, and the way Ryons laughed made Perkin laugh. Cavall raised up his head and wagged his tail.
Down below on the plain, in the dark, some creature howled: something much bigger than a wolf. Cavall stood up and went stiff all over. Baby opened one eye.
“What was that?” Ryons said.
“Don’t know. But it won’t come up here while we have a fire, so don’t be afraid. The Lord will get us to Lintum Forest, sure enough.”
Ryons believed, and his fear subsided.
Hiking by night, Ellayne and Jack heard something very similar and froze in their tracks. Wytt stood on tiptoe, sniffing the air.
“Big animal,” he chirped, “with bad smell.”
“What kind of animal?” Jack whispered.
“Don’t know.” That he didn’t
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