Pilgrims of Promise(87)
“No! Obey me in this, wife! I need you to stay by Maria.”
“What shall we do?” asked Otto.
Wil and Heinrich looked at each other as Alwin joined them. “No, this will not do. Listen well. The Templars demand justice at all cost. They will burn the whole of Christendom to find me and those who rescued me. I must surrender myself and quickly. I’ll confess all deeds and swear by the Holy Virgin that it was Otto’s men who saved me and left me here to heal.” With that, the man abruptly shuffled through the damp cellar toward the squat ladder amidst shocked protests from his comrades.
“No!” cried Heinrich. “They’ll hang you on the square afore terce!”
“Ja, and then spare the town. You’ll not dissuade me again.” Alwin reached for a rung. “I am not the warrior I once was. I even forgot my sword this morning!”
Pieter stood and leaned heavily on his staff as he called after the man. “Good Alwin, one moment. Please, my son. Hanging you shall not stay their swords against those who have given you shelter.”
“It will save some.”
Pieter nodded. “Perhaps. But I should also say that your story shan’t hold under scrutiny. What of Burgdorf?”
Alwin hesitated. “I’ll… I’ll be ready for that. No, you cannot change my mind in this. It is the only way.”
Pieter sighed. “Then I ask you this: would you pause just a brief moment so that I might share the holy doctrines, hear thy confession, and pray over thy soul? It would give me peace.”
Alwin hesitated.
“Please,” urged Heinrich. “My friend, I beg you. At least do this.”
Alwin released the rung and turned toward Pieter. The old man’s craggy face looked sad yet consoling; Heinrich’s, familiar and assuring. It would be comforting to be alone under his hanging hood with these images as his final companions. He nodded. “Very well, but be brief, Father Pieter.”
“Good, my son.” Pieter reached for the candle and lifted it to cast a soft yellow light about the dusty room. He eyed a clear spot on the floor at its very center, away from the stacks of sundry wares piled about. “There, brother. We shall kneel together there.”
The priest handed Heinrich the candle and hobbled behind Alwin to the place where he bade his penitent bend to both knees. Still holding his staff, he laid one hand atop Alwin’s head. “Alwin of Gunnar, prepare thy soul to be received in thy Savior’s embrace.”
Alwin bowed and folded his hands.
“First, do you confess belief in the truths of the Apostles’ Creed?
“I do.”
“Does thine heart lean upon our Savior by faith alone for the forgiveness of sin?”
“Ja, Father Pieter. It does so lean.” Confused by priest’s unusual liturgy, he opened his mouth to add, “But I—”
“Might I ask if you have been perfect as he is perfect: in thought, word, and deed?”
Confused, Alwin answered obediently, “No, but—”
Pieter smiled. “Ah, good, my son, the truth lives within you. Do you then lean upon the perfection of our Savior and receive it as His gift for thine own perfection?”
“I… I… suppose I do, but—”
“Gratia Dei tibi! Now, recite the confíteor if you must.”
Baffled, Alwin shrugged, then bowed his head low to the ground. With a groaning, heartfelt voice, the penitent began. “I confess to Almighty God, to blessed Mary ever Virgin, to blessed Michael the Archangel, to blessed John the Baptist, to the holy apostles Peter—”
He never finished. To the astonishment of all, Pieter slowly raised his staff over the praying man, and with both hands he swung the sturdy stick against his head! Alwin slumped to his side, unconscious. “Quick! Tie him up!” Pieter cried.
At first, none moved. Speechless and utterly stunned by the old fellow’s surprise, they simply stared at one another slack jawed.
“Quickly!” barked Pieter.
With that, many hands scrambled through the darkness to run fingers over dusty crates and jars, broken shelves and baskets. “Here!” shouted Helmut. “Here’s rope!”
“Good! Tie him up and find a rag to bind his mouth.” Pieter whirled about and faced the dumbstruck face of Wil. “Now what?”
“Huh?”
“I said, now what?”
The sounds of heavy horses suddenly shook the earth above them all. “They’ve broken through the gate!” exclaimed Otto.
Tomas spoke. “We’ve new clothes. If they’d be searching for the arsons of Burgdorf, they’d be looking for youths dressed in black.”
Heinrich answered, “True enough. But if they find us all together here—”