Quest of Hope(92)
“I am told that Gottwald lived his life as a knight of the Cross ought—courageous, loyal, faithful to his lords and to his God. And he was known as a humble man, a friend to the poor and charitable to any in need. Methinks it was Ingly who softened his heart toward the misfits and the unfortunate, for I am told he built a special home for those who wandered his realm in search of shelter and goodness. So, Heinrich, know that he was neither perfect nor without blemish, but he surely was a Christian man if ever one lived!
“Now, listen well. Lukas has informed me that Gottwald bequeathed a holding of land to me. It is said there was a titter in the audience as his will was read, but that his wife had agreed without complaint. It seems the man’s conscience had caused him to confide in her many years before. God bless the woman, for she both forgave her man and me.” Emma’s voice trembled and a tear ran down each cheek.
“The land is five hides, a token of his affection and a kind gift, indeed. And it was partitioned with great effort. It lies on a fertile plain near Oldenburg where he held several manors. It seems the silver he would oft bring me on All Souls’Eve was rents from this good ground.”
Heinrich listened intently, but suddenly bristled. “Five hides are a fortune for a peasant, but it seems a paltry grant from a wealthy lord to the mother of his child!”
Lukas interrupted. “It might seem so, but few would honor a bastard child under such circumstances and even less the child’s mother. The man was faithful to his duty all these years and never once sought favors from Emma.”
The woman nodded. “Now, Heinrich, we’ve not yet felt the war but surely we shall. Our protectors in Runkel are in alliance with the pope’s choice, Lord Otto of Brunswick, as are the counts in Oldenburg who shelter Gottwald’s lands. It seems the lands are safe enough, but protected by the counts or not, the land could be lost to the war or to others.
“Heinrich, I speak of this for a reason. As I have said, I do not expect to see many more years. Soon I shall be dancing with Ingly in God’s valley of flowers and it brings gladness to my heart to think of it. It also brings me joy to tell you this: that I have sworn a will and you shall inherit my land.”
Before the dumfounded baker could respond, Lukas interrupted, “Be warned. I would not boast or tell of this to others, nor tell your children until they are of age. There are those who would now profit from your death or those of your heirs; it is the dark side of wealth. I have told only Blasius, the Templar, so you have a witness. The lad is devout and has sworn his silence. He shall act as your emissary in matters of rents and receipts and shall keep your money in the treasury at the preceptory. Heinrich, when the time is right, you might have enough to buy the freedom of yourself and your children!”
The baker was silent. He was overwhelmed and suddenly overjoyed at his good fortune. This land, added to his half-hide in Weyer, would multiply his holdings beyond anything he had ever imagined possible. Yet he dared not feel the pleasure in it, for his gain would only come with the loss of that person whom he loved. “I… I have no words, I…”
“And none are needed,” Emma said smiling.
Chapter 14
THE GARDEN POEM
Another year passed and the dawn of a new century spread slowly across Weyer’s rounded hills. The Volk gave the moment little heed and simply plodded through their dreary days hard at task, bound to a monotony that had dulled their spirits and numbed them to the shifts of the troubling winds blowing through the realm. They wanted no part of the civil war now ravaging the empire and sought only the comforts of good thatch, a hearty mush, the simple pleasures of the village feasts, and the deep contentment of Sabbath rest.
On the nineteenth day of April, just ten days past Easter, news of Lord Klothar’s death reached nearby Villmar Abbey. The monks climbed the ridge rimming their village to see black pennants hanging despondently from the ramparts of Runkel’s nearby castle.
Two weeks later the abbot invited his subjects to gather on the grounds just beyond the abbey walls to witness the reception of Runkel’s new lord. Pressed and packed closely together, nearly two thousand peasants anxiously faced their new protector, Prince Heribert, son of Klothar. The young man stood upon a silk-draped stage and faced the gray and woolly host in all his finery. He smiled and waved and received the blessings of the abbey priests. Some thought him to be a bit thin, yet his face was ruggedly handsome and firmly anchored by dark brown eyes that gave him a noble strength. The twenty-year-old was the son of Klothar, to be sure, but he was also the grandson of King Rolf of Saxony.