Lukas cast a sad eye at Emma who was seated on a mossy rock. She smiled kindly at the two men and gathered a cluster of wildflowers in her hand. “Dear Heinrich. We do not mean to anger you, but please consider this: God’s gifts are for those humble enough to abandon themselves.” She paused to smell her bouquet and lifted her face to the sun. “True humility draws your face upward, not downward. ‘Tis a glorious mystery.” Emma continued softly. “Oh, my dear, dear boy, I long for you to face the sun and dance like a child again midst the flowers and butterflies.”
The baker listened halfheartedly. He stared at the stream with a mix of emotions. A tone of condescension braced his voice. “There are times I wish I could laugh. I wish I could feel the sunlight on my face, but I believe it is better for all of us to serve the order of things. We are called to serve in a hard world soon to be destroyed by the Judgment. Let m’lads dance in the flowers while they can, but such foolishness is no fit call for a man.” He flashed a hard eye at Lukas with his last remark.
Emma sighed a little. Her eyes lost their glint and swelled, red and wet. She stood and gave the young man a tender embrace. “I do love you, Heinrich, and those lads of yours. Someday, when your strength wanes and your virtues fail, when you long for hope once more, turn your eyes upward and find another way.” Emma was wise. She knew that conversations, like life, had seasons, and it was time to speak of other things. Wil crawled to her side and he rested his head atop her lap. “Heinrich, now I’ve needs tell you of something else.”
Heinrich groaned.
She stroked Wil’s hair and cast a loving glance toward Karl still sleeping soundly in the ferns. “First, Lukas tells me that Abbot Stephen shall honor the cloister’s covenant with your grandfather Jost.”
Lukas nodded.
“What a wonderful thing! I have other good tidings for you as well. By my best reckoning I am now some forty-two years on this earth and have enjoyed a wonderful life. Yet a feeling is coming over me that my time is short.”
The tension left Heinrich’s face and he stared at Emma suddenly anxious.
“At night, when all is quiet, it is as if a voice whispers my name. And sometimes I feel a squeeze about m’heart; a heaviness in my chest that sends some pain into my arms and a tingle to my fingers. I pray a few psalms and ask the angels to wait a bit longer.
“Heinrich, know that I love you and shall always love you as m’son. You have been a kind and faithful friend. Always a helper, always a listener, you’ve loved me and have brought me great joy. You loved my Ingly too. And,” she smiled and her eyes twinkled, “I’ve always known it was you who stole wood from the village for my fire those many years ago. You and that devilish Richard!”
Heinrich grimaced. “We were but boys and—”
“But you knew better!” mocked Lukas with a grin.
Heinrich shrugged. “Aye, but Emma’s woodpile had been scrumped by another … and it seemed fair justice.”
“And whose did you scrump?”
Heinrich fought a smirk. “Dietrich’s.”
“Dietrich? Your wife’s father?” roared Lukas with approval.
Heinrich nodded.
“Ha! Well done, lad! How many penances for you and your friend?”
Heinrich shrugged. “I made m’self do a hundred ‘Ave Marias’ and a few psalms. But I think none for Richard … he saw no wrong in it!”
“Scoundrel!” laughed Emma. “He was always such a rogue. I loved him too, and I miss him.”
“And me as well,” answered Heinrich. “He’s not been the same since … since things changed in his life. He wanders the forest sullen and sickly.”
The group became quiet and remembered Richard as he was, a devilish young boy romping through these same trees, laughing and bold, stouthearted and spirited. Now, it was feared, his heart had been extinguished by disappointment and pain.
Emma beckoned Heinrich to sit close by her side. She took one of his hands in her own and began again. “I’ve told you of Lord Gottwald. He was the love of my heart, and I think I was his … though he ne’er spoke of our love from the day he was wed. Nor did he betray his good wife with me … nay … not once. Our love was spring love, the love of early things, things young and tender, bright and earnest. And unwise, it ought be added, as spring love so often is. Nor was it ordained by heaven.
“When I was found with child my superior was merciful and kind and used her influence to help me. To my great relief, Gottwald proved to be a man of honor. He had his ways to see that his child and I would be kept proper and safe. It was he that had whispered to the chambers of Mainz to find me a good place to raise his son. He had told me that he had confessed our sin to a trusted priest, who, in turn, had worked as his emissary to those above … those who never need learn of our shame.