Marta’s face became as dark as the sky outside her hut. “What is this about, husband!”
Bailiff Werner answered. “He has been seen holding another’s wife, he has struck a priest, he—”
“Struck a priest!” cried Marta. “Struck a priest? My God, we shall all be damned! You fool, you wicked fool!”
Pious pointed his finger at Heinrich. “I have sought counsel with my superior in Mainz and with my brother, Father Albert. We have all agreed that you have violated all these eighteen demands of God. Thy many sins are mortal. Thy miserable soul is worthy of utter damnation and thy household cannot but be in harm’s way. I know no man more evil than you! You are known for your charity to the poor? Ha! A ruse. You are thought to be clever and shrewd in matters of business, but a deceiver is what I see! Hypocrite, liar, thief, adulterer, man of murderous intent, envious, slothful, haughty, greedy; I could go on!
“Your assault on my own person is worthy of penalty in both Church and lay court. With a word to Werner I can have you taken to Mainz and then to Runkel for flogging, or thumbing, or worse.” He leaned forward. “Perhaps you ought lose the bakery?”
Marta was suddenly uncertain whether she ought to feel outrage or fear. She hated her husband for his offenses but feared the loss of the comforts he provided. She stepped forward and looked at Pious with pleading eyes. “Father, I fear so for m’boys. Could he not confess and do some heavy penance?”
It was the question Pious was burning to hear. He had already been told it was unlikely the man would forfeit his bakery—a harsh penalty like that would have created an unmanageable uproar among the free men of the manor. He paused and feigned merciful reflection. He lowered himself dramatically upon a squatty stool and picked at his ear. “Hmm. Perhaps. You are, indeed, a woman offender spirit, one in touch with heaven. Hmm. I would not deny his absolution with proper confession, and I do imagine a heavy penance might reduce his temporal debt.” He let hope prosper in silence. Marta held her breath and her eyes widened. The priest leaned forward and whispered, “Yet, I fear thy whole household must make a sacrifice fitting to the offense.”
“Ja, ja?”
Father Albert was suddenly nervous. Lightning flashed across the evening sky and a clash of thunder shook the hut.
Pious sighed. “His confession must be sincere and if so, I shall not deny him God’s grace. As far as the necessary penance, however, I should think for the Holy Trinity we need three shirtless belly-crawls to Oberbrechen while reciting the Ave and the Pater Nostra; for the disciples, twelve Sabbath fasts; for the two Testaments, two barefoot pilgrimages to the walls of the abbey. And one more … hmm.”
Heinrich was staring aimlessly. He had spent much time during the past two weeks considering his sins. I was unfaithful in m’heart, he concluded, and had murderous intent, and was prideful, and filled with sloth that day. He had already spent days reciting the Commandments and concluded he truly was guilty of all. Shame washed over him like the torrent of rain now crashing on the village.
“For Mother Mary, he must willingly release the bakery to the parish.”
None spoke. The falling rain was all that could be heard. Father Albert looked at Pious incredulously and turned a now sympathetic eye toward the baker and his wife.
Marta gasped. “But, but father, if we lose his bakery then we all suffer for this miserable man’s failings!”
“One flesh, dear sister.”
Heinrich stiffened. Guilt-ridden or not, he had been pushed beyond his limit. Anger chased away his melancholy. He looked at his wife and wanted to vomit. Then he looked at Pious and his hands closed into fists. He fixed his eyes on the priest and held his stare for a long, agonizing moment.
The rain slowed to a steady patter on the thatch above and all waited. Heinrich’s heart pounded within him, yet he said nothing. He listened to the rain and the trickling rivulets of water just beyond his door. His thoughts drifted the Laubusbach and he began to grow calm. His fury faded quickly and his mouth felt dry. In another moment his mind was seized again by accusing thoughts: I am an evil man. The baker could not speak. His fists relaxed and he sighed. Much of him wanted to surrender the bakery if only it would finally free him of the shame and the confusion that was driving him to madness.
Words of submission began to form on Heinrich’s lips and Pious leaned forward, waiting anxiously. The baker paused. He suddenly pictured dear Emma by the Magi and he thought he could hear her voice whispering words of wisdom in his ear. Heinrich raised his chin. “I shall offer my confession to Father Albert, and will consider your penance under advice from others.”