The men of Weyer cheered and clapped. Balean sighed. “Ah, ‘tis surely how we were. Then to the fore came Balean of Ibelin! He was a brave and resolute knight, invincible it surely seemed. Our armies were weak and the city hard-pressed for food and water, but Jerusalem’s walls, he said, would surely hold, ‘for the angels fill the ramparts!’”
Again, the village roared.
“He took command and organized us well. And he armed each able-bodied man—servants, pages, groomsmen, it did not matter. Each Christian man held a sword!”
Weyer hushed. Heinrich was amazed and a chill tingled his back. His mind’s eye pictured him taking up arms for his Holy Church and fighting for righteousness. Imagine, he thought, me, a bound-man, armed in a just cause!
Balean continued. “For fourteen days we fought well and we fought hard. But, alas, we soon learned that St. Stephan’s gate was undermined by the demons.”
An angry voice cried from the darkness, “It was them digging from hell!”
“Aye,” answered Balean. “It seemed so when they climbed from their tunnels and spread across the city like a spreading shadow. Our brave commander led us into the churches where we prayed for God’s protection. Alas, though our faith was brittle, God’s mercy reigned. Saladin did the unexpected, he spared us, though Jerusalem was firmly in his grasp.” The man drew a deep, woeful breath. “Now I’ve new troubles to tell you.”
The villagers waited in trepidation.
“Our good emperor, Barbarossa, did in faith and humility leave on expedition to liberate Jerusalem once again; some of you have heard this. But, in the mysteries of God’s ways, he did drown in a mountain stream.”
The peasants gasped. Though the world of popes and emperors was often overshadowed by the daily needs of life, each knew this news would prompt ripples of change like the dropping of a rock into a pond.
Balean stood and raised his hands. “Good folk, fear not. Heinrich the Sixth is now emperor and shall rule well. Meanwhile, the Duke of Swabia is asking the pope’s permission to found an order of Germans to be named, the ‘Order of Teutonic Knights of the House of St. Mary.’ They will wear white robes with black crosses, and it is they who shall avenge Barbarossa and shall someday free the Holy City once again!”
The inspired villagers offered a hearty “hurrah” and filled the visitors’ cups with cider and ale. The night then seemed to pass quickly, far too quickly for Heinrich and the others. They dismissed the bells of matins, aware that midnight was better spent in sleep, but keenly conscious that they might never learn of such things again. Balean spoke on and on of the great sea and its shimmering waters. “A place where the sun presses hope into the soul,” the man said. The young baker closed his eyes and tried to imagine “blue water stretching as far as one might see.” He opened his eyes but saw, instead, a wondrous black velvet sky sprinkled with shining, fiery lights, each twinkling like happy, playful eyes eagerly urging him to smile. For an instant Heinrich paused and delighted in the beautiful sight, then dropped his head and shuddered. He had violated his vow.
By St. Michael’s Day the village was busy with the last of the harvest and the final planting of the winter grains. The hayward had done a masterful job in reorganizing the fields and work schedules. Herwin was pleased with the changes, but unhappy at home. His wife, Varina, had barely spoken to him since Telek’s death. She was certain her brother had not run away, as Baldric and Arnold insisted, and Herwin could do little but look away whenever she confronted him.
Heinrich did his best to avoid her, but sharing the same roof made his efforts difficult at best. He found himself facing her squarely one day as she asked her question directly. “Do you know what has become of my brother?”
Heinrich paled as Baldric emerged from the outer room. The young man looked Varina directly in the eyes and struggled for words. If he told her, Heinrich reasoned, he’d put everyone in jeopardy. If he lied, his soul would be in further peril. “Varina,” he said flatly, “you’ll needs ask another.” Heinrich thought that was the clever answer of a shrewd man! He had avoided risk for everyone. But the wounded look in Varina’s face turned the lad away in shame. He was, indeed, a coward.
Heinrich sighed and stepped toward the door when Baldric laid his hand on the young man’s shoulder. “I’ve needs of a word with you out-of-doors.”
Heinrich felt anxious as he stepped outside.
Baldric’s tone was surprisingly easy. “You’d be sixteen and of age to receive your inheritance. Kurt left most to you and some for yer brother, Axel. I’ve been thinking it best to hold fast until Axel is of age. Then you can divide things in better order … and I hope you shan’t forget my good care of what’s yours.”