The Recollections of Prior Gilles

mmortality. We all sought it, if not in this world, then the next. To attain the gift of eternal life was the very essence of my existence in the Abbey of Bec. That was before I was sent forth from its Norman walls in the year 1138, the third year of the reign of King Stephen. My arrival in England soon dispelled the notion that a life of prayer and praise was sufficient to claim the crown of everlasting glory: the sharp edge of a sword seemed a far more effective tool in gaining that reward.

I lived through the most turbulent of times. This England, of which I knew little and understood less, was torn by war, the powerful at each other’s throats. The prize was the throne, not only for the protagonists but for their children and their children. Immortality through birth right and blood line, that was what they desired.

The full story was not to emerge until many years later when the writings of the Chroniclers were more widely dispersed. According to Archbishop Theobald, I had played my part in bringing peace to the kingdom, but my name was never mentioned in the histories; immortality on vellum was not to be my destiny. But then I never sought it.