“Scrawny, very ugly, and lean,” blurted Martin.
Egidius leaned close to the stranger and growled, “I don’t like you, Brother Martin, and I think your vow is suspicious. You should know that I’ve done penance twice for beating the brethren!”
The prior appeared and interrupted the porter with his greeting. “Thanks be to God.”
Egidius bowed to his superior. “Prior Paulus, we’ve a visiting brother with a letter from Mainz and a woman with some business as well.”
Emma bowed. “The paper is about my business. This wanderer is but my poor escort, assigned to me by a well-meaning clerk.”
Prior Paulus looked at the woman and her child and took the string-tied scroll from Martin’s hand. He cracked open the wax seal and unrolled it. It contained a message from the archbishop regarding the year’s plantings, taxes owed to Lord Hugo the protector, and the apportionment of the glebe harvest to the priests of the villages. He read further to find a list of repairs, tithes, dues, and hospitalities that the abbey might expect in the coming year. Toward the bottom a reference was made to the threats of a western lord and the likely gathering of Knights Templar to oppose him. At the very end was a brief statement regarding Emma: “Without known reason I am asked by your protector, Lord Hugo of Runkel, to provide this whore and her ill-formed bastard a shelter fit a woman of virtuous repute. She seems of high birth and I suspect her to be a despoiled nun. Receive her, but her cursed son is not to be an oblate; he is to suckle at the sinner’s breast and bear the weight of his mother’s scourge without benefit of alms.”
Paulus rolled the yellowed scroll and turned to Martin. “Brother, I see nothing of regard to you.”
Brother Martin folded his hands and kneeled. “When did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and givest you something to drink? When did we see you a stranger and invite you in?”
Paulus was not impressed. “Gyrovoagi,” he muttered. Yet charity was a virtue he had vowed and it could not be ignored. “Brother, we may either feed you and send you on your way, or offer you our fellowship as brethren. Your wish?”
“I wish to join you as your brother.”
Paulus’s face darkened. “I see. Then you must abide the difficult rules of joining our community. In keeping with the Rules of St. Benedict, you must remain outside of this gate for five days. At the ringing of each bell you shall entreat the porter for entry. You, Brother Egidius, must refuse him at each request.”
“Aye. ‘I rejoice in following thy statutes,’” the porter smirked.
“Then at compline of the fifth day you shall be allowed in, and you shall be brought to a novice’s cell as a postulant, and there you shall dwell for one year. After this time has passed, you shall stand before the community in the oratory and take a vow of stability promising us your faithful presence until the Lord takes your soul. You shall vow obedience to our rule and prostrate yourself to each brother in turn. Then, Brother Martin, perhaps we may serve one another.”
Martin said nothing but left his knees and bowed. Prior Paulus turned to Emma and her son. “My child. Come, enter in and let us show you to your quarters until we’ve settled you in one of our villages.”
“Grace to you, Prior Paulus,” she answered. “And thanks be to God. But as you consider our prospect, might I humbly ask to be housed near water? ‘Tis somewhat soothing by its sound and—”
“Considering your sins, methinks you to have little to say in this matter!” scolded Paulus. He paused, then softened his voice. “We’ve the village of Villmar, here, by the Lahn River, and we own some four villages by millstreams.” He looked at Ingelbert and his eyes saddened. “You have naught to fear, daughter. Your sins are at your breast each day; you have no need of an increase in your misery.” The prior paused for a moment. “I believe our village of Weyer to be a good place for you. It has a good stream, thick woods, Volk with no thought to idle time. Ja, Weyer shall be your home.”
And so it was by the late days of November in the year of our Lord 1174, Emma of Quedlinburg became Emma of Weyer. She was housed in a hastily repaired cottage at the village edge and—to the young woman’s great joy—by the pleasant waters of the Laubusbach.
Spring came early in the year 1175 and brought life and new hope to the village. Arnold and his wife welcomed their firstborn, Richard, on the fourteenth day of March. By April, Kurt and Berta were busy planning the season’s labors. Berta was large and cumbersome, her second child expected to be born in June. Since Easter would be late she counted the days and prayed the child might be born on Pentecost. Heinrich’s birth had missed the Epiphany by nearly a fortnight, and Berta still worried that good fortune was forever denied the child.