The poor woman backed away from Pieter and stood in the farthest corner of her hovel. Terrified, she sank to the floor and wrapped her body with her arms. Unable to speak, she only whimpered and nodded. She understood.
Otto had pity. “Frau, the priest is only an enemy to deceit. He is a friend to the righteous. Here, here is a gold coin. It is fitting, he says, to reward goodness.” The lad plinked the coin on the woman’s table. She stared at it from a distance, wide eyed and disbelieving.
Pieter bowed. “My child, thy faith hath saved thee. Live in peace.”
By midafternoon, Pieter returned to camp with good news. Anka, it seemed, had been silenced. “I have great hope for your husband, Frieda, though I do worry for my own soul. I am too old and weary to do much more of this.” The man was troubled. “We should not need to do such things to defend the truth.”
“What things?” asked Benedetto.
Pieter dismissed the question with a wave of his hand. “Have we heard from Katharina and Arnold?”
“Not yet, Pieter,” offered Alwin. “But soon, I’m sure.”
While Tomas and Otto relayed the day’s events, Pieter slowly retreated into the forest with Solomon. Benedetto strummed his lute, and the lads spun more tales to a circle of admiring friends as Frieda and Maria followed after Pieter into the woodland.
It was dusk when the music stopped and a loud “hurrah” was lifted. Katharina had returned! Relieved, the whole company gathered about her in a close circle. She had come with a bundle of her belongings that she had hastily gathered from her cottage. Setting them on the ground, she wiped her brow.
“It was not wise for you to go home,” scolded Frieda.
Katharina nodded. “I may never be able to return to my home, so I went back briefly to take the few things I needed.”
“What of Arnold?” asked Tomas.
“He said he’d be safe enough in his cottage. He is certain the prior would see no purpose in his arrest, since it would not yield the parchment.”
“You are certain no one saw you?” asked Tomas.
“I was very careful. I did speak to Herwin, though. He offered his support if needed and gave me Wil’s dagger.” She handed it to Frieda.
The band was nervous.
“They will be searching,” grumbled Tomas.
Katharina took a swallow of ale. “I am certain of it. They’ll scour the manor carefully. We must keep the flames low, as well as our voices.”
“And what of the triad?” asked Helmut.
“We’re now sure that Steward Hagan will hold court in Runkel on Friday.”
“Friday! ‘Tis two full days hence!” grumbled Tomas. “It gives the prior two full days to counter our plans.” He kicked the dirt. “I cannot bear the wait!”
“Why in Runkel?” asked Benedetto.
Otto answered. “The abbey is under contract with Lord Heribert for all such matters, and his steward is oft the judge in trials.”
“The abbey does not wish to be the place of judgment for temporal matters,” added Alwin. “They’ve a church court for sins and for keeping the brethren in place. I know they have flogged a few monks on account of blasphemy and lewdness, and they have whipped a few peasants on account of adultery, but they’ve never hanged a soul within those walls, nor do they want to bother with thefts and the like.”
“So, Frau Katharina, do you think our plan can work?” asked Maria.
“I believe it can. Your great-uncle Arnold is a good ally. He’s to meet with the prior once more, past compline on Thursday, to settle the final arrangements. Then I am to meet him so that we know what to do. Until then, we must be careful.”
Alwin swallowed a long, refreshing draught of ale, then looked at Katharina and chuckled. “If Lord Heribert learns of his own steward’s betrayal, or if the abbot learns that his own prior is in league with another, hell will not have fires hot enough!”
The circle laughed. “Then cheers to Arnold! If any could make the fools sweat in their beds, ‘tis he!”
The company quickly decided that although the Matins Stone was technically on Lord Rolfhard’s land, it was close enough to the abbey’s manor to be encroached with ease by the abbey’s joint protectors—Heribert and the Templars. “We should find refuge in the heavy spruce farther south and to the east,” urged Wilda.
And so it was agreed. The uneasy pilgrims hurried to gather all their provisions and abandoned their camp. Following the sure feet of Wilda along trails familiar to the woman, they soon arrived at a secluded clearing. Now about a two-hour walk from Weyer, they felt safer, and with Paulus lumbering along with an ample load of summer vegetables, salted joint meats, and fresh ale, the company was eager to build a new fire and enjoy a hearty meal.