A Canticle For Leibowitz (ss) by Walter M. Miller Jnr

Author:Walter M. Miller Jnr. [Jnr., Walter M. Miller]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Sci Fi Short Story
Publisher: Fantasy and Science Fiction Magazine
Published: 1955-04-01T00:00:00+00:00

The trip to New Vatican would take at least three months, perhaps longer, the time depending on how fer brother Francis could get before the inevitable robber band relieved him of his ass, since he would be going unarmed and alone. He carried with him only a begging bowl and the illuminated copy of the Leibowitz print, praying that ignorant robbers would have no use for the latter. As a precaution, however, he wore a black patch over his right eye, for the peasants, being a superstitious lot, could often be put to flight by even a hint of the evil eye. Thus armed and equipped, he set out to obey the summons of his high priest.

Two months and some odd days later he met his robber on a mountain trail that was heavily wooded and fer from any settlement. His robber was a short man, but heavy as a bull, with a glazed knob of a pate and a jaw like a block of granite. He stood in the trail with his legs spread wide and his massive arms folded across his chest, watching the approach of the little figure on the ass. The robber seemed alone, and armed only with a knife which he did not bother to remove from his belt thong. His appearance was a disappointment, since Francis had been secretly hoping for another encounter with the pilgrim of long ago.

“Get off,” said the robber.

The ass stopped in the path. Brother Francis tossed back his cowl to reveal the eye-patch, and raised a trembling finger to touch it. He began to lift the patch slowly as if to reveal something hideous that might be hidden beneath it. The robber threw back his head and laughed a laugh that might have sprung from the throat of Satan himself. Francis muttered an exorcism, but the robber seemed untouched.

“You black-sacked jeebers wore that one out years ago,” he said. “Get off.”

Francis smiled, shrugged, and dismounted without protest.

“A good day to you, sir,” he said pleasantly. “You may take the ass. Walking will improve my health, 1 think.” He smiled again and started away.

“Hold it,” said the robber. “Strip to the buff. And let’s see what’s in that package.”

Brother Francis touched his begging bowl and made a helpless gesture, but this brought only another scornful laugh from the robber.

“I’ve seen that alms-pot trick before too,” he said. “The last man with a begging bowl had half a heklo of gold in his boot. Now strip.”

Brother Francis displayed his sandals, but began to strip. The robber searched his clothing, found nothing, and tossed it back to him.

“Now let’s see inside the package.”

“It is only a document, sir,” the monk protested. “Of value to no one but its owner.”

“Open it.”

Silently Brother Francis obeyed. The gold leaf and the colorful design flashed brilliantly in the sunlight that filtered through the foliage. The robber’s craggy jaw dropped an inch. He whistled softly.

“What a pretty! Now wouldn’t me woman like it to hang on the shanty wall!”

He continued to stare while the monk went slowly sick inside.

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