The Secret Healer(54)

“I know,” Madlen said softly.

“But I do think it’s possible for you to learn how to read and write.”

“Really?” Madlen said, eyes wide with excitement.

“I know a man, a young monk, to be exact. We speak quite often when I collect donations for the Church. He’s a truly open-minded man. It’s hard to imagine that he dedicated his life to God. His name is Brother Simon. We’ve often talked about the fact that there can be no greater happiness than for a person to learn to read and write.”

“And do you think he could teach me? Me?”

“Well, Brother is not very religious in the traditional sense. He accepts donations to benefit the community instead of investing the money in outdated religious rituals.”

It occurred to Madlen that she’d only spent a few coins of her money when she traveled here; in fact, it had barely been touched. She could use it to learn how to read and write.

“I see what you’re thinking. I’ll take care of the donation.”

“But as I already told you,” Madlen replied, “the advocate gave me back the money that I’d paid him. I could also—”

Agathe held up her hand to silence her. “You’ll be glad to have something to fall back on one day. Just let me handle this. I’ll speak with Brother Simon, and we’ll come to an agreement. If this is your fondest wish, I want to ensure that you learn how to read and write. And the sooner the better.”

Madlen jumped up and hugged her aunt so tightly that she almost fell off her chair. “You’re smothering me,” she croaked with a grin.

“Thank you so much. For everything!” Madlen kissed her aunt on the cheek.

“You are the daughter that I always wanted.” She waved her off. “And soon, my daughter will read and write.”





Chapter Sixteen





“Brother Simon, may I introduce you to my foster daughter, the woman we talked about.”

Madlen bowed politely.

“A woman with a great thirst for wisdom, or so I’ve heard. I’m so happy to meet you.”

“It’s so kind that you’ve agreed to help me.” Madlen nodded in deference to the man in the simple brown robe. He was handsome, so very different than she had imagined a man in the service of God would be. In Heidelberg, the men who had dedicated their lives to the Lord were mostly weak old men. Brother Simon, not much older than Madlen herself, had nothing in common with them.

“Well, your foster mother can be very convincing, as you know.” He smiled at Agathe. “It would be my pleasure to teach you. Do you have any experience with reading or writing?”

“Unfortunately, no.”

“Then we’ll start the same way I learned. I only ask you to be patient with yourself and don’t give up. The Lord helps those who believe in him and in themselves.”

“I’ll be very industrious and learn as much as I can, that I promise you.”

Brother Simon led his visitors into a room lined with bookshelves that reached the ceiling. “As you can both see, we have more books than any one person could read in a lifetime. How often would you like to have your lessons?”

“As often as possible.” Madlen glanced at Agathe briefly. “Of course, I have to tend to my duties as a dressmaker. But I can make myself available in the evenings.”

“I will come to your house every other day. I would prefer to teach there, where it is quieter. If we discover that every other day is too much, we can adjust.”

“That would be wonderful.” Madlen nodded excitedly. She looked for reassurance from Agathe, who smiled almost imperceptibly.

“Good. Then we’re agreed.”

“Brother Simon!” Madlen turned as a man’s deep voice called out from the door. “There you are. And I see you have visitors. I hope I’m not interrupting anything?”

The man’s gaze moved from Madlen to Agathe and finally back to the young monk. He took another step into the room. “Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Johannes Goldmann.” He bowed graciously.

“Goldmann?” Agathe said. “I think I know your parents. Isn’t Elsbeth your mother?”

“Yes, and my father is Peter.”

“Ah, the council member. Yes, I know them both well. Your mother often buys dresses from me. My name is Agathe, and this is my foster daughter, Maria.”

Madlen curtsied quickly. The man was a good two heads taller than her and towered over Brother Simon. His hair was the color of spring wheat the likes of which she’d never seen before. He had a powerful build, with wide shoulders. She would have pegged him for a craftsman, not the son of merchants. He was older than Madlen, but not quite thirty.