The baker walked away from the others, staring at the Weser running quickly northward. He reflected on his life and turned his eye toward the sky of early evening. Katharina joined him, and together they spoke of things past and things to come, of the converging of journeys, and of their quest for freedom. Heinrich took Katharina’s hand in his. It felt warm and tender, soft yet strong. He faltered for words, but she smiled. In the quiet calm of her smile the man felt peace. As he faced her, the unfulfilled longings of so many wasted years overwhelmed him with a bittersweet sorrow.
“Katharina, I… I should like you to be my wife.”
Utterly surprised, the woman trembled and blushed. Her world had been one of beatings and neglect, of sadness and mute suffering. She had not dared hope for better except during those times when she had wandered by the Laubusbach, so very alone. Still stunned by the man’s words, she answered slowly and happily. “My dear Heinrich, it would be my honor to serve you as your wife.” The woman began to cry, and the baker pulled her to his chest.
“Here in this place?” he asked.
Katharina nodded.
Heinrich stretched a grateful hand to heaven with a shout of joy. At the sound, his fellows looked his way. “Come! Come all!” he cried. “Pieter, come quickly!”
The curious group hurried to join the beaming couple, and as they drew near, Heinrich reached out to Wil. “Lad, I am to marry, now, in this place.”
Wil was startled. He nodded bravely, but he wasn’t so sure. He felt an odd sense of anger rise within, an anger he had not felt for these many weeks past. He turned as Frieda and Maria rejoiced, congratulating the happy pair. In moments, the couple was swarmed by their excited band of fellows, and Pieter tried a little dance.
“Pieter, will you bless us in this?” asked Heinrich.
“Indeed. It is lawful and right. It is my honor.”
The baker noticed Wil’s reluctance, and he took the lad aside. “Son, is something weighing on you?”
The young man looked at his feet. It was a hard moment for him. He had not forgiven his father fully; he did not know if he would ever be able to do that. But he loved him and had come to respect him. Remembering his father charging across the field to defend him had exposed the heart of the man to him as no mere words could convey. Hearing his confessions had moved him yet more.
Wil took a deep breath as Frieda came to his side. “I wish you happiness, Father, but… but…”
“Say it, Wil,” urged Frieda.
The young man set his jaw. “It seems wrong that you left Mother alone for all those years, and now she lies in her grave, while you are here, alive and happy. It does not feel right to me … so this is not easy.”
Heinrich nodded. He looked at Katharina, then at the others. He stared into the green trees across the waters before answering. “ Ja, I… I feel the weight of that as well.”
“What would you have him do, Wil?” asked Frieda.
A long silence followed as others gathered close. Wil struggled with himself until he answered in a resolute yet kind tone. He looked squarely into his father’s face. “I would have him live life free from any pride of his own goodness … yet also free from the shame of all sins confessed.” He looked to Pieter, and the old priest smiled approvingly. The young man had learned much on his journey, and his teacher’s heart was warmed. Wil turned to his father again. “It is what I would have for myself as well.”
Astonished, Heinrich stared at his son and marveled. He was inspired by the lad’s unexpected wisdom and compelled by the selfless virtue of his character. The baker bowed his head and humbly thanked his son.
Over the next half hour, all hands busily prepared for the surprise wedding. Maria and Wilda raced about the riverbanks, picking flowers, and they soon adorned the bride-to-be with a wonderful ringlet for her head. Frieda braided the woman’s hair and brushed her gown clean and smooth. The three then continued to fuss over the blushing Katharina with the spirit of care uniquely granted to their gender. Soon the woman was ready.
“Oh!” Maria clapped in delight. “You are beautiful.”
Katharina lowered her face in the twilight. The first star of the night appeared in the east, and Maria pointed to it. “Luck!” she cried. “Katharina, make a wish!”
The woman looked at the star and smiled as she remembered the Christmas star of so many years before. She took Maria’s hand in one of hers, then Frieda’s in the other. Together they followed Wilda to meet Pieter, who was now standing at the three rivers.
The groom had picked the brush and twigs from his leggings and adjusted his belt. He laid his sword atop his satchel and had Otto wrap his sleeve tight to the stump of his left arm. He wiped his boots clean, then ran his fingers through his beard and hair. He adjusted his patch and chuckled. “Well, Benedetto, I’m not the handsome knight of your ballads, am I?”