Quest of Hope(101)

The cloister fast had started on the fifteenth of November and the monks were about one third through their suffering when young Wil was brought to the eastern gate. A cranky, hungry porter greeted the lad and his father with a curt and insincere, “Deo gratias. Thanks be to God.”

Heinrich bowed. “I’ve my son to see the school.”

The porter stared at the two in disbelief, but he gave them entrance and led them to the prior’s chamber. Wil had seen the inside of the abbey only once before. He marveled at the busy workshops and granaries lining the wall, and gawked at the tall stacks of beer barrels. The gray-stoned church loomed large and ominous at the very center of the abbey grounds, its stout bell tower facing the east. Wil paused to stare at the church for a moment before looking beyond it into the maze of garden walls and orchards that lay beyond. He then looked to his right to study the collection of stone-and-timber buildings forming the cloister itself.

“Over there,” Heinrich said, “is the refectory where the monks eat, the infirmary for their sick, the dormitories, kitchen, scriptorium, covered walkways, and, of course, the latrine.”

“Where does Lukas live?”

“There, in that dormitory.” Heinrich lowered his voice. “Lukas says he is going to take a vow of solitude with hopes of being put in a private cell. He says he finds the brethren a bit of a bother!”

Wil laughed, earning a stern glance from their escort. Heinrich pointed to Lukas’s new herbarium standing in the center of a huge, cross-shaped garden to their left. “That is where our friend spends most of his day.”

The porter led the pair along a well-worn, stone footpath past the gardens, a fish pond, and toward the abbot’s grand residence and another set of buildings near the southern wall. He said nothing until they reached the prior’s chamber. “In nomine Patris …” The monk knelt before the two and washed their feet as he prayed for them. When the man was done he recited, “God, we have received Your mercy in the midst of Your temple.”

Wil was wide-eyed and uncomfortable when the brother gave him a kiss of peace, but when he offered a sweet roll and a strip of salted fish, the boy grinned from ear to ear!

“Please, sit yourselves here. Brother Mattias shall join you shortly.” The porter showed the two to a couple of comfortable wooden chairs setting adjacent to a blazing hearth and quickly stepped away.

The room was plain, damp, and shadowed, lit only by firelight and what sunbeams pressed their way through two shuttered windows on the southern wall. A large desk sat opposite the hearth and a smaller scribe’s table was placed next to it. A few simple chairs and a stool were arranged on top of a woven carpet.

“Peace be unto you,” a voice suddenly said.

Wil and Heinrich turned to see Prior Mattias and his clerk. “And to you,” answered Heinrich as he and his son stood.

“You have been greeted and fed?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Now, if it please you, I shall sit by my desk.”

As Mattias and his clerk took their places, an official and two more clerks entered. Heinrich knew they were not of the brethren. The official wore a mantle of white squirrel over a long, magnificently embroidered green robe. His legs were covered in fine breeches that fell to his shins where red woollen hose led to his well-oiled ox-leather shoes. From beneath his sleeves peeked the cuffs of a white linen shirt, and atop his head sat an otter cap. His companions were more modestly dressed but were clearly free men of means.

“Heinrich,” announced the prior as he pointed to the official, “this is Steward Hagan. Sire Hagan serves us from Runkel as did Erhard in years past. He handles our matters of law and accounting.”

The baker and his son nodded, curious.

Mattias went on. “We’ve two matters of business to discuss with you, my children, and know that Abbot Udo has been appraised of thine issues and has charged us to bring all to proper order. Firstly, in the matter of this, thy son, Johann Wilhelm: I do have in my possession the abbey’s pledge to your father’s father. I see you have brought yours likewise.”

Heinrich nodded.

“Our second point is a matter regarding thine inheritance of a holding once granted to our deceased tenant, Emma of Quedlinburg, of late a resident in Weyer.”

Heinrich chilled. Lukas told him that Blasius would be transacting all business regarding Emma’s lands. He feared any discussion on these matters without the counsel of either Lukas or him.

“Now,” continued Mattias, “I do freely admit that on matters of law I am not well versed, but it would seem we have some concerns regarding both. For this reason, I have yielded to the better judgment of our steward. He is a lawyer in the realm and properly trained in these things.”