Silence filled the chapel of the Magi. Emma’s life contained a wealth of secrets, and for her it felt strangely comforting to release another.
Brother Lukas smiled at her and waited for a few moments. Ingelbert was content to toss pebbles in the stream, while Heinrich held his tongue.
With tears in her eyes, Emma decided to reveal more. “I was born of high birth,” she began. “It is called ‘high birth’ for no proper reason, for my father was a knight who was wont to slaughter whom he willed. My mother was widowed when I was but two, and she chose retreat in the nunnery at Quedlinburg. Here she lived well, free from the ‘burdens of beastly men’ she would oft say. But she died of fever when I was nearly ten.
“To my great wonder, the abbess showed a special kindness to me and taught me with great patience. She led me through the Holy Scriptures and trained me in rhetoric and mathematics, philosophy, and, of course, the doctrines of the Holy Church. And, having noticed my keen eye for the gardens and the kitchen, she assigned me duties with our lay-cellarer and the kitchener. I learned to prepare meals for the abbess and her guests who ofttimes passed our way. I became familiar with saffron and spices from the east, with ginger and salts. I learned to roast pheasant and venison, duck and quail. I could stew cherries with wine and tempt the angels with honey cakes and cinnamon!
“She, too, loved the gardens and taught me of butterflies and flowers. I think my time with her there was my favorite, indeed. I remember one summer day after a brief rain shower we both looked up to marvel at a glorious rainbow arching over the whole world. I remember how she clapped and wept for joy. She said she could picture the Christ seated atop that rainbow while the saints and angels slid down both sides like happy children! Ah, dear woman, what a wondrous vision!
“But all too soon it all passed.” Emma sighed. “I had not yet taken my vows when I … I strayed. It was then necessary for me to take my leave, and it was the archbishop, through a bequest from my superior, who found me this good home for which I am most thankful.”
Lukas listened with amazement and laid a gentle hand on the woman’s arm. He looked at Ingelbert but asked no more questions. With a sincere prayer of blessing for the woman and her son, the monk disappeared into the forest.
Heinrich returned home to find Effi waiting for him outside the hovel. Effi hushed him as he approached the door. “Shh.” Effi was nearly thirteen and beginning to show the shape of a woman. In three years or certainly four, she would be married. Heinrich often groaned in pity for whichever poor village lad was so sentenced! She was spindly and full of “spit,” as Aunt Gisela was apt to say. Her hair was long and fiery red, braided down the center of her back. “Those dung-heads are planning feud again!”
Heinrich stiffened. “Feud!” he groaned. An uncontrollable shiver passed through him.
Effi opened her mouth. “Heinrich … they’ll be taking you …I heard them!”
The door of the hovel flew open and Baldric stumbled into the twilight. “Heinrich!” he belched. “Get in here. You, girl, get to Arnold’s with Varina and the new brat… and be quick about it. Tell the women to stir the mush; we’ll be eating there in short.”
Heinrich stepped into his hovel, trembling like a rabbit in the sight of a wolf. Against the far wall sat his uncle Arnold, Dietrich, Telek, and Herwin. Arnold’s dark eyes flashed in the hearth’s firelight. “We’ve good news for you, boy,” he began. “Your father fought for his kin, now ‘tis your time.”
Heinrich licked his dry lips and cast a nervous glance at poor Herwin. The man stared at his feet; there was nothing he could do. Heinrich lifted his chin and choked his reply. “The feud is outlawed by the Holy Church. Father Johannes has said any who raise an arm against another Christian shall be exc … exc …”
“Excommunicated,” answered Baldric. He was familiar with the term.
“Aye, sir. I do not wish any to burn and—”
“Enough! That dolt Johannes speaks out his arse! Someone ought tell him that lyin’ earns a few years in the purge. The Book also says “an eye for an eye.” Have you no heart for the memory of yer own father? And the aunt you never knew, good Sieghild, suffered at the hands of Gunnars as well. They’ve ne’er been avenged in full.”
Heinrich thought of his father. He had been a small lad when Kurt died, but he remembered something about the man’s laugh and the easy touch of his calloused hands. He nodded.
“Good,” said Baldric. “Now all, listen well. The Gunnars bring their sheep to Arfurt in a fortnight.”