“Thief!” scolded the priest with a slap across the boy’s head. “Bend your knee and hear me. God’s judgment is upon you this wicked morn. Your name is ‘Scrump Worm’ to your God, to your household, to your village, and to yourself. Dost thou hear me? Scump Worm!
“Yet in your thievery lies an even greater sin, ‘tis pride, the greatest of all sins. In your pride you have claimed the right to steal. In your pride, you have thought yourself above God’s Law. Woe to you, boy. Woe I say!”
The priest drew a deep breath and received an affirming nod from Lenard. He then softened his tone and bent toward the kneeling, stiff-jawed lad. “Though you have brought shame upon us all, your sins can be forgiven and the final purge lessened through your penance.”
Heinrich’s mouth went dry and his breath quickened.
“First, you must confess thy sin to me in the church for absolution by God’s grace. Next, thy good uncle shall pay fair restitution to Lenard for his loss and you shall settle with him for that. Then, hear this: You shall receive eight stripes with a willow wand for your theft. Do you know why eight?”
Heinrich shook his head and fixed his eyes on Emma’s.
“It is the eighth commandment which you have broken first. You have also violated the fifth commandment, so you shall receive five more strikes for dishonoring your uncle.
“Finally, and listen well boy, thy pride must be reckoned. The good monks in Villmar do keep their eyes to the ground lest any think themselves more than they are. Neither shall you seek a lofty vision of thine own, for vainglory is a great tempter and an evil thing. Therefore, I demand, this day, your vow to the Virgin Mother and the host of saints above, that you shall never lift your eyes higher than the spires of whatever holy church is in thy view. Do you so vow?”
Heinrich was nervous and confused. A mere boy, he lived in terror of the order around him and the eternal one to come. His eyes were wide and darted to and fro until they fell upon Emma’s once again. The blessed Frau looked at him tenderly and her own eyes begged him to refuse. She then shook her head vigorously. “No Heinrich … no …” she mouthed.
Heinrich hesitated until Baldric slapped him on the side of his face. “Answer the priest, worm!” he boomed. “Take the vow!”
Emma could contain herself no longer. She cried out, “No! ‘Tis an evil, wicked thing they demand of you!” She clenched her fists and turned on the priest with righteous outrage. “Black-heart! Serpent! Do not bind the boy to such a horrid, unholy vow!”
“Silence, woman!” shouted the priest. “How dare you speak! Take her away!”
Arnold stepped forward and fixed a tight grip on Emma’s elbow. He hissed into her ear, “Go witch, go with your freak child, else you’ll both have a high price to pay.” He squeezed her arm until she cried out in pain, and he dragged her away.
Father Johannes turned an icy glare on Heinrich. “Boy, you’ve a choice before you. You have broken the code of heaven and the code of thine own kin. Hearken my words and take the vow, else your rebellious soul shall face the Judgment in grave peril. And more! Your penalties will be passed to your brother and sister, and family to come!”
Heinrich, ashamed, confused, filled with terror and with dread, hesitated. He knew what he was condemned to do. No longer could he lie in the grass and find pictures in the clouds. No more might he follow birds across the blue sky, nor feel the noontime sun upon his chin. Yet he felt he must obey. He believed with all his tender heart that he had placed himself and those whom he loved in grave jeopardy. With a sad, tearful sigh, he nodded. “I… I do so vow.”
Martinmas passed with little notice, celebrated only by a liturgy none could understand. It was now mid-November and Weyer was busy with the slaughter. The abbey’s lay-bailiff, Herold, was about the villages insisting that the blood month yield well for the abbot. After all, though the monks were sworn to eat little meat, they needed to pay their tithe to Mainz with carts of salted, smoked, or pickled pork and pound upon pound of mutton. “So,” he proclaimed to the village men, “round up your swine and be clever with the slaughter, we needs use everything but the squeal!”
The villagers did as they were told—they nearly always did. The swine herdsmen marked the hogs with dyes as to their rightful owners and gathered them in the village pens. The best sows and boars were separated and saved for breeding; the rest were herded to meet the men who stunned them with heavy mallets. Once unconscious, the hogs’ rear legs were tied and hoisted upward while the slitters, including Heinrich and Richard, cut the throats for bleeding. The blood was drained into buckets and carried to cauldrons where women stirred in fat to make bloodwurst. Once drained of blood, the carcasses were scalded with boiling water, the hair scraped, and skins preserved. Once the slaughter was complete, every spare part would be put to good use.