Quest of Hope(28)

Among those lost to that terrible season was Father Gregor. He had fallen ill with the grippe just two days after the village penance had begun. Some said he ought not have walked barefoot with the others. But he was anxious to prove his mettle in the presence of a rival, and he led his little flock like the good shepherd he claimed to be. He had taken no herbs to ease his distress, though he was sorely tempted. “To whom much is given, much is required,” had scolded Johannes. Gregor agreed and had poured his cup of coltsfoot upon the floor. So the man died faithful to the notions of Johannes—if not to the voice of Wisdom.

To the great joy of Baldric, another taken by the scourge was the woodward. For him, the witch’s hex seemed a blessing for he was quickly appointed to the dead man’s position and would now rule all the forests of Villmar’s lands. Another was lost as well. Abbot Boniface had become ill, stricken with a cramping colic and consumption. Overcome with pain, he lost all enthusiasm for the ban on remedies. An oblate—a lad named Pious—had smuggled jugs of barley water and raspberry vinegar from the infirmer for the abbot’s relief. Upon Boniface’s death the lad confessed to all, and the disappointed brothers were sure the hand of God had stricken the hapless abbot for his unfaithfulness.

In his place came Brother Malchus. The monk had taken his vows in Lorch, the home of Emperor Barbarossa. Malchus had been a knight by another name in the service of the emperor and had lost his left ear in a battle in Palestine. Believing himself spared to serve God in new ways, he had joined the monastery in Lorch where the novice-master gave him his name. There he proved himself to be a man of wisdom, true humility, and deeply committed to the Rule of Benedict. He secretly resented the control the Archbishop of Mainz exercised over the abbey at Villmar, especially since most abbots now answered directly to papal legates. It would be his hope to bring the liberation of the abbey.

Malchus arrived on Holy Thursday and immediately summoned Prior Paulus to review the spiritual and temporal condition of his new stewardship. Before long he imposed stricter fasts on his brethren and ordered new aggressive plans for village bakeries, breweries, and mills. “And more,” he said. “We’ve must look to a new system of planting like we’ve done in Swabia. Gather the village reeves and haywards and we’ll set upon the task.”





The summer proved to be a grave disappointment for the new abbot. The harvest was a disaster and morale of the monks was low. Worse yet, the abbey’s treasury had been pilfered. Since the fiscal year of Christendom began and ended on Michaelmas—the twenty-fifth of September—the treasury had held nearly a year’s worth of revenues. Of course, the abbot dared not let the villagers know of the violation lest they lose heart. After all, the monastery was their final redoubt from Satan’s evils. If God’s fortress could be penetrated so easily, what hope would they have for themselves?

The abbot was frustrated by the theft but also extremely agitated by the parish priests’ continuing ban on remedies for sickness. Since the village priests answered to their bishop and not to him, he sent messengers to the archbishop in Mainz begging him to correct the foolishness. Mercifully, the archbishop agreed and dispatched a simple message to his priests: “Encourage your flocks to trust God by trusting in God’s people and in the tools of God’s creation.”

Immediately, Abbot Malchus summoned an herbalist skilled in modern techniques and, on a warm day in mid-October, Lukas of Saxony appeared at the abbey’s gate. Lukas was of medium height, with dark brown eyes and hair. A young, eager, and good-natured monk, he had gentle, pleasing features, was quick of wit and wise beyond his years. Lukas had been schooled at the Abbey of St. Gall and had taken a special interest in medicines and herbs. The monk had a love for life that gave joy to many, and he knew no better way to serve than to probe the wonderful mysteries of God’s good earth.

But more troubles soon loomed over the manors of the abbey. Just two days after Lukas’s arrival, the abbot received a messenger from the Archbishop of Mainz warning of danger. Apparently, the lord of nearby Mensfelden had revoked his loyalty to Emperor Barbarossa and pledged himself to a prince of Saxony who was building a treasonous alliance. Barbarossa learned of the betrayal and immediately stripped the defector of all his lands, granting them to another. The Abbey of Villmar was under the protection of the Lord of Runkel, himself a loyal subject of the emperor. It was now feared that the disenfranchised Lord of Mensfelden might send his knights into the abbey’s lands to exact revenge.