The group nodded. Wil took hold of Emmanuel and his quiver. He felt his satchel and secured the dagger in his belt. “Frieda?”
The young woman nodded. She still had her quills and parchments. The priest had even sent her a fresh jar of ink.
Heinrich had counted the company’s coins and now gave each traveler seven pennies of his or her own before distributing the balance equally among Wil, Alwin, and himself. As he placed his coins into his satchel, he brushed along his Laubusbach stone, which he promptly lifted to his eye. He stared at it wistfully. Instead of a symbol of his return, it had suddenly become a relic of his past. Dropping it back into his bag, he secured his sword and nodded. “I am ready.”
Solomon took his place alongside Paulus and his master as Pieter smiled at Maria. “You must promise me that you’ll find some pretty flowers for your hair along the way!”
Maria giggled. “Of course … and for yours, too!”
Heinrich walked to Katharina’s side. He took her hand in his and looked deeply into her green eyes. The baker’s heart melted. Keeping his own hopes at bay, he said gently, “Woman, you have lost everything. Your husband is dead, your land will be taken by the abbot, and your chattels sold.”
Katharina nodded. She gazed upward into Heinrich’s kindly face. “Like you, I am saddened to leave the graves of our children behind, but more than that I do not mourn. The land was a curse to me; my chattels were fetters on my soul. I’ve an ample dowry safe enough with the Templar banks.” She squeezed Heinrich’s hand softly. “No, dear man, I have not lost everything.”
The baker could hardly ask the next question. “Shall … you seek your family elsewhere … or travel with us to Stedingerland?” He waited breathlessly.
Katharina turned her eyes downward. Dare I be so bold? she wondered. Her heart fluttered. “If… you permit me, sir, I should be honored to join your company.”
The baker’s heart leapt with joy. He wrapped his arm tenderly around the woman. “Permit you? Permit you? Oh, Katharina, come with me, I beg you!” For the man it was as if the world had been made right and good in that one brief moment.
Katharina smiled broadly. Her eyes sparkled, and her cheeks flushed warm and happy. “Then to Stedingerland—together.”
In the meanwhile, Alwin sought out Wilda as Wil assembled the others. “And you, Wilda?”
“Are you going to England?” she asked.
The knight shook his head. “No. I belong with these, my brothers and sisters. They need my sword now more than ever.”
“As do I.”
Alwin released his breath and nodded. “That is good. That is good, indeed.” He looked about the heavy shadows now filling the wood and then abruptly tilted his head at the cries of three seabirds sweeping overhead.
“Come, everyone!” shouted Frieda happily as she pointed. “Follow them! Believe me and you’ll see.”
Chapter Twenty-four
WAYFARERS ONCE MORE
The wayfarers soon found themselves racing beneath the starlit summer sky. Wisely, they had kept off the roads, and they hurried overland according to the cries of the birds above. It is a strange night, Pieter thought. A blessed night, one touched by heaven’s magic. The birds seemed to be leading them northwest over rolling hills and past the dim torchlights of Lord Rolfhard’s hamlets that were scattered about the darkness like little golden coins. By daybreak the column passed Weilburg and came to the Lahn highway, where it paused to rest behind a screen of silvery willows.
“The highway’s not safe, Wil,” said Heinrich.
The young man nodded. “I agree.”
Frieda pointed to the gulls sitting in the treetops above. “Should we ask them?”
Wil shrugged. “They are seabirds, no doubt flying to the sea. We are traveling toward the sea as well. That does not mean they are angels guiding us!”
Helmut and Tomas giggled, but Maria stepped forward. “You weren’t with us when we were lost by the Rhine!” she quipped. “I believe they are sent to help us.”
A conversation ensued that bantered about all matters of the inexplicable. Friederich spoke of whispering trees and Otto of a fog that healed the sick. Wilda remained silent, though her mind was filled with memories of her life as a witch. She shuddered as she considered the dark side of such things. Others spoke of enchanted waters and devils’ springs. Some mocked; most believed.
Pieter took a long draught of beer and listened carefully. He scratched Solomon’s ears and smiled. Finally, all faces turned toward him. “What say you, Pieter?” asked Heinrich.