Quest of Hope(93)
The throng grew quiet and some began to kneel, first here, then there. The young lord smiled and squared his shoulders. He beckoned his betrothed to his side. The fair Christine came forward and took his hand, bowing before the assembly as though she were a queen. Astonished whispers passed through the multitude, for the maiden was a striking beauty. Her hair was a deep-hued chestnut and shimmered in the sunshine like fine silk.
The abbot smiled outwardly, though the young lord’s influence on the humble peasants was making him uncomfortable. Prior Mattias sensed his superior’s worry and whispered quiet assurance: “He offers them protection, Father Abbot. He gives them peace of mind.”
Abbot Stephen grumbled. “We guard their souls, he their flesh; I oft wonder which they treasure most.”
Prince Heribert spoke a few words of promise and of pledge. He bade the peasants work hard at task; that they give their due for the abbot’s good and faithful care. He embraced the preceptor of the Templar’s house, Brother Phillipe de Blanqfort, and the two white-robed knights at his side. The act was witness to their continued alliance in the defense of the abbey and of Runkel. When the presentation was over, most hearts were steadied, willing and happy to return to their villages with a measure of hope.
It was inevitable that the effects of the empire’s war would ripple across the lands of Villmar. No blood had yet been spilled directly upon its ground, though some of Heribert’s knights had been slain in distant combat. But fees for protection were raised in the face of dwindling revenues. The archbishop in Mainz was feeling the pressure as well and now demanded more from the abbot, adding greater friction to their already strained relationship. So the peasants’ taxes, rents, and fees were increased yet again. The merchet was doubled, the heriot increased by half, and the charge for grinding flour was raised so much that the village millers were in fear for their very lives.
For Father Pious, these hard times presented new opportunities. With ambition consuming his soul, he sought every occasion to earn the notice of his superiors in Mainz. He had already proven his skill at serving both Oberbrechen and Weyer—a double duty that had relieved the diocese of a considerable expense. And he had managed the glebes well, squeezing a profit through both fair times and drought. Pious, knowing that the abbey had fallen behind in its tithes due the archbishop, now eyed the bakery in Weyer as a possible means of collection. Of course, the addition of the bakery as a direct asset of the archbishop would be one more success the priest could add to his credit. His shrewd dealings, however, had done more than gain the attention of the councils of Mainz, for they had also served to secure his reputation in the abbey as a greedy man of pompous self-importance.
The troubles of the realm touched other lives in ways not so opportune. Axel, Heinrich’s brother, was sent home to Weyer, for the mayor of Limburg was no longer able to afford workers from the abbey. The unemployed carpenter was now married and the father of two boys, Arnwolf, age eight, and Thom, age seven. As the four hungry, homeless peasants stood at Heinrich’s door, the baker knew he had no choice but to help.
Marta, of course, found this new condition intolerable. She had banished Heinrich from her affection long ago but now ordered him from their bedchamber altogether. Heinrich, tormented by the woman long enough finally took his stand. “You! You Housedragon! Nörglerin!”
Marta responded with a fist into the man’s face.
To escape the cramped and unhappy conditions of the hovel, Herwin and his household moved. They found a gracious welcome from an old spinster who was happy to rent space in her run-down hut at the south end of the village. Herwin’s departure was heart-wrenching for both him and Heinrich. The kindly tenant had slept under that thatch roof for twenty-five years, pouring out his life in service to the family of Kurt.
Heinrich embraced Herwin, Varina, and their children. “I … I cannot bear to see you leave us.”
Herwin wept and nodded. “And you, young man. You have been like a son to me. I… I should like to stay in your hire to work your land?”
“Of course! I would have it no other way.”
The two looked at each other for a long, heartbreaking moment. A breeze rustled through their hair and they turned to go their separate ways.
The year dragged on. The increase in taxes, fines, and rents kept laughter and good cheer in check, even at the May Day feast. By Midsummer’s, thefts were increasing, and the abbot sent strong words of warning to each village reeve. The pope’s armies continued to support Otto the Welf, as did Prince Heribert, but the armies of Otto’s two rivals were vigorous. Heribert’s treasury was badly depleted and the Templars suffered as well. So when the abbot demanded help in keeping order in his manors, the men-at-arms were neither patient, merciful, or kind. Crimes and offenses were met with the most severe penalties and administered without compassion.