Quest of Hope(141)
“Our friends tell us the count and the archbishop have heard of a one-armed, one-eyed peasant who may have betrayed them. There’s talk of a search to begin.”
Cornelis turned to the women. “And there is more. It seems the soldiers whom we defeated claim they were passing through peaceably on their way to worship in Bremen. Ha! They say they went north to the ferries at Berne and we ambushed them without cause, so now the archbishop is considering another attack to punish us. The chiefs meet in a fortnight.”
Heinrich rose. “There’ll be no single death on my account! None. I’ll surrender myself in the morning!”
“Listen, friend, you do not understand. The archbishop and the counts seek every possible excuse to war with us. Your capture would only prove their rumors to be true and add strength to their claim. This much is certain: you are in grave danger here and you cannot travel to the south—it’s where you’d be expected. You’d stand no chance in Saxony or Thurungia, none at all.”
“What is he to do, son?” asked Anna.
“I’ve another plan.” Cornelis faced Heinrich squarely. “A group of us have struck a deal. We’re to trade our rye and oats for skins with Kjell the Swede from West Gothland. Our own captain, Groot, has agreed to our fee and is sailing in a fortnight from Elsfleth. Kjell is an old friend of m’father’s—hell hide you for the winter.”
“The winter?” Heinrich stared blankly.
Cornelis understood but wanted to be very sure the man did as he was told. “Listen, friend, and listen well. You saved my life and I shall ne’er forget it. But hear me plain: if you are captured, this village and m’family shall be slaughtered in God’s name. You cannot travel south—not now. I cannot allow it.” He leaned close to Heinrich and narrowed his eyes. With a resolved whisper he repeated, “I will not allow it.”
The baker turned away and stared at the wide horizon. Another winter away from home! He struggled with his predicament and concluded that his host was right. Stories of Cornelis’s offered sanctuary would be confirmed, and he had seen what sort of justice the lords served. He looked at little Anki, at Bolko the toddler, the patient eyes of Anna, and the kind face of gentle Edda. He could do nothing to bring more risk to any of these.
Another thought had been haunting him for some days. He thought of his missing eye and touched his right hand to his stump. I’ve sinned greatly and am forever crippled for my shame, he moaned within himself. Dear God, have I added more to my debt? I’ve needs pay a great penance to keep m’sons safe. This winter might begin the season of sufferings that may finally cleanse me. He nodded sadly and answered, “Forgive me, Cornelis. Surely, I shall do as you say.”
The next two weeks were filled with restless anticipation. Heinrich was anxious to be on his way, but was forbidden to leave Cornelis’s farmhouse for fear a passing spy would confirm the rumors in Oldenburg and Bremen. Cornelis was busy with his fellows finishing the harvest in the higher ground to the west. There, the grain crops had done well that year and the eager landowners worked tirelessly in a cooperative effort that benefited everyone. Heinrich only wished he could take part and aid his gracious host.
It was late on Friday, the fourteenth day of September when a messenger hurried into Cornelis’s door. The fellow whispered an urgent message to the nodding farmer before disappearing into the heavy river mist blanketing the village. Cornelis touched a coal to a torch and called his wife and Heinrich. “We have news. The count sent the bailiff and a company of men-at-arms from the castle at noon yesterday and they’ve searched Altenesche and Hude. Our spy says they will be searching the villages along the Hunte next.”
Edda gasped. “Husband, they shall surely slaughter us!”
Cornelis gathered his wife in his arms and held her tightly. Mother Anna joined the two and laid a comforting hand on the young woman’s shoulder. Cornelis answered, “Nay, Edda. No doubt the militia’s being called as we speak. The count has been given no permission for this search … he’ll be turned away. But,” the man turned to Heinrich, “now ‘tis time, good friend. You must board Groot’s ship. He would have sailed by midweek anyway—he’s almost loaded. A few days in the bottom of his stout vessel is a small price for your life … and ours.”
Heinrich agreed.
Cornelis clasped hands with the baker and beckoned his wife to quickly gather an ample stock of provisions to send with their guest. Within minutes, Edda and her mother-in-law handed Heinrich his satchel, stuffed with smoked fish, cheese, salted beef, and dried apples. He hung the bulging leather bag across the shoulder of his new brown tunic and draped his sealskin cloak over his back. The man looked rugged, almost fierce. His graying auburn curls hung over his ears and brushed the base of his neck. He had grown a beard, like the free men who had hosted him these four months, and the weight he had regained padded his broad shoulders and thick chest. The patch over his right eye and the stump hanging at his left side added a quality of mystery and adventure. Anna thought him to have the look of the pirates who pillaged the nearby sea.