Pilgrims of Promise(32)

The large-bellied monk turned and faced the four, blank faced. Then a huge smile stretched across his face. “Father Pieter!” he answered as he came running. The two black-robed men embraced. “Father Pieter! God be praised!”

Pieter laughed, happy to see the good monk. “Oh, good Chiovo! Oh, my friend, I must find Maria.”

“Of course! And wait until she sees you!”

“Is she here?”

“Si! And doing very well.” Chiovo’s face abruptly fell. “We lost your Anna.”

Pieter nodded somberly. “We know. We were at the abbey.”

“Ah, yes … God’s will be done.” He sighed, then laid his hand on Pieter’s shoulder. “Come, follow me. All of you.”

Chiovo hurried through Lord Salito’s great hall and into a private courtyard, where he bade Pieter sit with his lads on a bench beneath a rose arbor. He winked and then disappeared into the shadows of the castle.

“Please hurry!” said Otto. “I can hardly wait another moment.”

Pieter said nothing but stared at the doorway leading to the hall. The day was fast ending, and long shadows had begun to stretch from the statues of saints rimming the courtyard. The air now brought a touch of November chill, yet the man paid no heed. He had fixed his face to the doorway, and nothing else mattered. Pieter’s heart pounded and his legs felt weak. His fingers tapped anxiously on his staff until, at last—at long last—he heard the voice of a child echoing faintly inside. It was a musical voice, high and cheery. It was her voice.

Pieter and his boys drew deep breaths. Then, like the bursting of the sun from behind a heavy cloud, flaxen-haired Maria emerged from the darkened hall. She obediently stepped into the daylight, ignorant of the surprise waiting for her. For a moment, she simply stood in her place and looked about innocently. She wondered why Chiovo had been so mysterious and why he was waiting in the hall behind her.

Pieter stared speechlessly. It was as though more joy had filled his heart than he could contain, and he could do nothing but gawk in wonder. He stared through tear-blurred eyes at the beautiful maiden, and then suddenly dropped his staff and rushed toward her with arms outstretched. “Maria!” he cried.

The child’s jaw dropped and she trembled. “Papa Pieter!” she squealed. She raced across the courtyard. “Papa Pieter!”

The two fell into one another’s embrace, weeping and laughing. Solomon was leaping and barking happily, and the boys charged forward to wrap the pair with their arms, glad hearted and shouting. Oh, what a glorious reunion  ! It was hope realized, dreams come true; it was that rare moment when miracles are plainly seen and the goodness of God unquestioned.

Soon all four were chattering wildly, wiping tears and laughing. “Papa Pieter, I missed you so! And you, Otto and Heinz.”

“We oft wondered if we’d see you again.” Otto shook his head. “I am so—”

“Aye! Me, too!” Heinz’s face was bright and cheery. “It was hard going away.”

Maria nodded. “But you had to go. I wanted you to go.”

Chiovo handed Pieter his staff. “The signora has agreed to speak with you in the morning. Until then, my friends, you are to stay in the guest quarters, where food and refreshment await you.”

The old man thanked the monk. “In a moment, brother, just one moment.” He retrieved the cross stuffed in his belt and slowly handed it to Maria. “Ah, my dear. This is your cross, the one Karl carried for you on his journey, the one sworn to be returned to your hand.”

The girl took the cross lovingly. “Karl is gone from us,” she suddenly choked.

Astonished, Pieter nodded. “But how did you know?”

She wiped her eyes. “I had dreams, Papa. I saw him lying in some flowers that were tended by angels.”

The boys felt chills run down their spines.

“But all is well for him. He is at peace and happy. I know it.”

Pieter’s throat swelled, and he laid his hand atop her head. A mystery to be sure, he thought. “‘Tis true, my dear. Karl is with the angels now. We lost him near Genoa.”

Maria kissed the cross. “He was a dear brother and I loved him.”

Pieter took her under his arm and held her tightly.

“And Wil lives,” she then stated confidently.

“Aye, sister. So he does,” answered Pieter incredulously. “He will join us here in the spring, with others.”

Maria smiled and, with her good hand, touched both of her crosses. “Thank you, Papa. Thank you for coming back.”





Eventually, Pieter and the boys were led to a comfortable chamber adjacent to the lord’s apartments. They were given a modest-sized room with one bed and a snapping hearth. Servants delivered trays of olives and fruits, some roasted duck and baked fish. Four silver goblets accompanied a tankard of red wine, and a basket of bread was set neatly in the middle of the table.