Here is this morning’s dream it is in stark contrast to the subject matter I was researching last night.
It feels like the 12th or 13th century. We are both on horseback, my companion and I. He is something like a batman to me. We are not wearing our usual uniform with the rose cross. We are simply adorned in chain mail and are carrying battle axes. Our swords are in scabbards around our belts. Under my mail I have a vestment which is a sacred relic. I explain to my companion that the best way to attack with a battle-axe is from slightly behind, one needs to manoeuvre the opposition to be in front by pulling back on the reigns of the horse.
We have to get the vestment over the border and into the protection of the bishopric. We are being pursued and our pursuers are gaining on us, but we are close to the border and the pursuers will not dare breech it. I decide that my companion needs to make a loud diversion whilst I slope off into the forest, there is a path known to me there which leads to a wall in which I can hide the vestment. My companion giddies up the horse and heads off into the distance making a lot of noise. I slip off the trail and into the wood quietly. Soon I pick up the path I know. I arrive at the clearing and by the wall I dismount. I am over the border and at the edge of the bishopric. I remove my mail and secrete the vestment in the wall. It is yellow and red and highly ornate. It is by way of a waistcoat to be worn over a priest’s robes. It is not mine, but it has been OK for me to carry it because I have been ordained.
As agreed, I rendezvous with my companion in the local town, and we go off to see the bishop there to acquire a guard of men and with which we will retrieve the garment. The setting feels like England, but it could well be Breton. It is green, verdant and pleasant.
When I awake this dream is very reminiscent of a lifetime two lifetimes ago.