Heinrich shrugged.
Emma put a finger under her chin and pretended to think hard. Her eyes then brightened. “And you’ve met his daughter, Katharina?”
Heinrich reddened and squirmed, delighted to be found out.
“Ah, good lad! I thought as much!” Emma laughed and gave the boy a hug. “She seems to be of good stock.” She winked. “Wonderful! Well then, Ingly and I were about to sit by the Magi. We’ve been summoned there by Lukas. Might you join us?”
Heinrich eagerly agreed, and before long the three crossed a newly built bridge and were walking along the bubbling Laubusbach. The trees were bare but budded, the sky blue, and the sun warm.
The monk was waiting patiently at the three trees, casually plinking stones into the clear water rushing past. He turned and waved as his friends approached. “God’s peace to you, sister and young lads!” he called.
“And to you!” panted Emma as she pulled herself over a fallen log. “How do you escape these days?”
“I bribe Egidius.” Lukas grinned.
“Well, blessed brother,” Emma chuckled, “I am just thankful to God for your company.”
The four spread pine boughs across the ground and lounged about their oasis with no care in the world. The Laubusbach was dancing and sparkling in the bright light of midafternoon and a warm breeze moved softly through the trees. The three Magi towered high above the forest keeping a faithful vigil; their sturdy trunks stood straight and wide like the marble columns in the cathedral of Milan.
Neither Emma nor Lukas were much for frivolous speech, so, after a few pleasantries, Lukas came to the point of his meeting. “Emma, I do not yet know all your secrets, nor you mine, but I have seen your gifts in illuminating. That parchment I saw was among the finest I have ever seen.”
Emma colored.
“Now hear me. I do not know by what means you pay your rents or fees, but I presume you must sell your work to someone?”
Emma did not answer.
“No matter, your work needs to be offered for God’s glory. The abbot has filled his new scriptorium with idiots and trembling hands! I’ve seen their work; ‘tis a pitiful sight, an abomination and insult to art! I’ve heard it whispered in the refectory that the Father Abbot is anxious over it. He fears his profits shall soon dwindle. So … what if I proposed to Mattias that we hire you?”
“Me?” Emma laughed in disbelief. “He would never hire a peasant and surely not a woman!”
“Ah!” Lukas’s eyes sparkled mischievously. “Scribes and illuminators are placed in the towns now, working for pay to do what only monks had done not so long ago. I could say I found a skilled person who wants to remain unnamed. Aye! A person who is modest and has vowed against pride so he wants none to know his identity!”
Heinrich interrupted. “It sounds like a deception.”
Lukas sighed.
“She took no vow against pride, and she is no ‘he.’”
Lukas mumbled under his breath. “Listen, lad. Frau Emma is in need and we can help her. Have you no charity?”
Heinrich was confused. He was Emma’s faithful friend—he would do anything for her. But deceiving the Church seemed too much. He wanted a better way. “Can y’not help her without sin?”
“Perhaps not helping is the sin!” challenged the monk, impatiently.
Heinrich was not convinced. “Can y’not just say the person is modest and fears pride?”
Lukas thought for a moment, then sighed. “Ah, well said, lad. ‘Tis much better, indeed. And you, sister, is this agreed?”
Emma smiled. “Yes! ‘Tis good!”
“Then you shall be the illuminator for the abbey! Can you believe it? The odd woman of Weyer serving a chapter of shavelings? It is marvelous, sweet as honey! And the old fools shall never know!”
Lukas turned to Heinrich. “You’ve a tender conscience, lad, and that is a good thing. But heed my words: beware of virtues, for they easily become the objects of arrogance. ‘Do not be overrighteous, lest you destroy yourself—wise words from the Holy Scripture, lad. Heed them!”
Emma was still reflecting on her newfound opportunity. “Methinks you are God’s most willing servant, brother. This is a great gift from a loving God. Gloria Dei!”
Heinrich’s jaw dropped. “Y-you speak the language of heaven, Frau Emma?”
Emma grew quiet and nodded.
Lukas leaned toward the woman. “Verba mea auribus percipe, Domine, intellege clamorem meum … Give thine ear, O Lord, to my words, understand my cry…”
Emma finished the verse. “Intende voci orationis meae, Rex meus et Deus meus. Hearken to the voice of my prayer, O my King and my God.”