Beloved Pilgrim

by Nan Hawthorne

  Albrecht hesitated. "You may be right, my lady. I will still need time to pack up Elias's gear."

  "Will it all fit in his clothing chest?"

  "I think so," he replied, "but what about the clothes?"

  "I will put them on under my gown when I leave. No one has any reason to go into Elias's chamber. I think we can get away with it. Just wait until supper when everyone will be in the hall and the kitchen and you can sneak out by way of the outside stairway."

  They stood and looked at each other silently.

  "So it's really going to happen," Elisabeth said.

  Albrecht took her hands. "And you are certain about this? It is terribly risky. I have to go, but you do not."

  She squeezed his hands, and then let them go. "I do not want to leave. I have no idea where I will go. But I cannot stay here. Not and be Reinhardt. If I stay, I will either go mad or die, or both."

  His eyes were full of sorrow. "I do not want to leave either. All my memories of Elias are here. But I can't just wait for whatever brutal death the Baron would improvise for me. I suppose at this point we are damned if we do and damned if we don't."

  "That is one way of putting it," she said grimly.

  Supper that day was nerve-wracking for Elisabeth. She sat on the dais trying not to keep looking toward the exits from the hall. She jumped at every dropped platter. It was a relief when at last she could lay down her eating knife, wipe her mouth on a cloth, and go up to her room claiming to need a nap. In her chamber she carefully looked out the window. The guards at the door were in the act of shutting the gates. She cupped a palm to her ear hoping she could catch the sound of hoof beats or talk. She could tell the guards were talking, laughing, but could not make out their words. Sighing, she turned from the window.

  "I do not blame the little bugger. If I was one of those, I'd get the hell out before the old bastard gets back!" one of the guards, walking across the courtyard, had called back to the other.

  That man, still near the gates, called back, "Well tell the squire he took all his gear and then some. Or don't bother with that last. Let the poor bugger get off with whatever he's stolen. What do we care?"

  Elisabeth slumped back against her chamber wall and sighed with relief. Just days now and she would go for her "retreat" with the reclusive woman. Would Albrecht be there? Would he have the armor? Or would he leave her and get away? After all, she had offered him the armor so he could make his way in the world. All she could do was pray and wait.

  Chapter Five ~ Sir Knight

  "When do I get the rest of it?" Hans demanded as Elisabeth slung her drawstring bag with the barest of her needs over her shoulder in the courtyard.

  "Come with me a bit. I have the rest hidden nearby." She was more concerned with getting on her way than with any chance Hans might change his mind about helping her. His greed would take care of that.

  Hesitantly, he replied, "Well, all right. I didn't know I was going to have to work for this."

  Her sideways glance told her he meant what he said, that he was not jesting. "It is not far. Just out of sight of the manor."

  Even with the unpleasant Hans beside her Elisabeth felt more like dancing than walking as she sloughed off a life that had become too great a burden and too spare of rewards to continue. In her sack she had little. Albrecht would have already delivered Elias's armor, weapons and clothing to the holy woman's cottage. Soon Elisabeth would no longer exist, at least until she figured out what she was going to do. She found herself wishing Albrecht and she were truly lovers. At least then she could turn the uncertainty of their fates over to him. That was the compensation for being a woman, not having to make choices. It was compensation too burdensome for Elisabeth.

  "What are you going to do? Where are you going?" Hans spoke into her thoughts, as if responding to them.

  She shook her head. "If I even knew, I wouldn't tell you. If Reinhardt thinks to search for me, I want him to have to search near and far. So don't bother to ask."

  He shrugged disinterestedly. "Whatever," he said. "Is the reward far? You aren't bringing me out here to an ambush, are you?" He stopped in his tracks, the thought just now occurring to him. He eyed the brush around them and started to pull forth his sword.

  Elisabeth looked at him, surprised. "You don't trust me," she remarked.

  He glared at her. "Look, you are running away from your husband and bribing me to defy him, my master, to help you. You are bribing me with what belongs to him by rights." He cocked his head, his smile sardonic. "Does that sound like a trustworthy person to you?"

  "Oh," she said in a small voice. "You are right, of course."

  Hans shook his head. "As innocent as that and you think you are going to make your way in the big wicked world, I suppose?"

  His face revealed only scorn. "Stay here," she inserted. "I will go get the casket." Without waiting for his assent, she glanced about for landmarks, and then headed straight into a clump of trees.

  Stretching his neck to keep his eye on her, Hans watched. He was just about to follow, thinking she had given him the slip, when she reappeared. She was carrying a wooden casket just large enough that she could not see over it and had to take her steps carefully.

  "Here," she said perfunctorily.

  He reached to take the casket from her arms. He looked about for a place to set the thing down so he could look inside. Finding nowhere he knelt and set the casket on the ground before him. "It's locked," he snapped as he tried to pull the lid up.

  Without a word, she bent and reached to the side of the casket. Slipping her finger along the side, she pushed in at a spot near the rear of the box. The action released a catch and the casket opened.

  There was no surprised intake of breath from Hans, but when Elisabeth peered into his face she saw a wide grin growing wider. "Jesu Christe!" he breathed. Reaching in he lifted a gold chain and weighed it in his palm. "Beautiful." He went on digging through Elisabeth's mother's jewelry, necklaces, rings, bracelets, all made of precious metals and adorned with precious stones like amber, carnelian, and lapis lazuli. "Ouch!" he cried as he found the pin of a silver brooch the hard way. He put his bleeding finger in his mouth and looked up at her. "Where's the rest?" he asked around the finger he sucked.

  "The bottom is false."

  He returned his attention to the box. He poked about the bottom until he was able to get a fingernail between it and the edge of the box. Lifting it, he said, "Hey, what's this?" The only thing in the bottom was a folded sheet of vellum. He opened it and stared at the writing, which was upside down.

  It struck Elisabeth that he could not read. "It's instructions on where to find the gold." It had not occurred to her that he could not follow these instructions. She was glad, as it happens, because it meant she could slow his search by telling him something slightly different from what she'd written.

  He glared. "What does it say?" It was clear that he thought he was being tricked somehow.

  She reached for the small slip of vellum and held it up to read. "It says, 'In the bake house in the oven that is never used is a section in the back where a tile is loose. Look there," she continued, "'to find the gold,'" although it actually said, "to find another sheet of instructions." This was going to be better than she had hoped. He would have to think of a way to get the second message deciphered. That would give her and Albrecht plenty of time to get away even if he changed his mind about keeping silent.

  "Oven they don't use, all right, that's not hard to remember," he said to himself. "How do I know you are not tricking me?"

  She put her hands on her hips and gazed at him. Pointing to the jewelry lying on the dirt next to the casket, she said, "If I was going to trick you, I would not have given you all that. I admit I wanted to slow you down, so you would not follow me." She had almost said "us," but then she realized he believed she and Albrecht were heading off for a tryst, so it would not have mattered. "I think you should go back and make haste. What if someone else finds it first?"r />
  Open-mouthed he stared at her. Then he leaned forward and started stuffing bits of jewelry into his clothing. The slip of vellum he hid last. Picking up the casket he stood and flung it away into the stand of ferns nearby. "Go with God," he said quickly, turned and soon was out of sight.

  Elisabeth sighed. Magdalena's cottage was a good half hour's walk from here and she wasted no time making her way.

  She let Albrecht be gone for almost a week before she declared that she would go to Magdalena's woodland hermitage for a retreat to think and pray about all that had happened in the past years. No one thought twice about it. As a girl she had gone to Magdalena's place any number of times, whether to truly go on retreat or just to get away from the unpleasantness of her mother's illness. Her disappearance would only become noticeable if someone happened to visit the woman or when her absence went on longer than usual. She prayed Reinhardt was not coming back any time soon. He need not even know she had gone.

  At Magdalena's small cottage she looked about for the holy woman and for Albrecht. There was no sign of either of the horses she expected to find. A growing panic seized her. What might have happened?

  Blessedly a matter of minutes later she heard the sound of laughter. Turning in its direction she saw the small woman come out of the trees with a smiling Albrecht at her elbow, toting firewood.

  "Elisabeth!" the woman called.

  "My lady, you made it!" echoed the squire. He looked about with some concern. "Are you alone?"

  Elisabeth ran up to the two, smiling. "Yes, alone. I sent Hans scurrying off to find the gold I promised. It was delicious, really. But I am foot weary. Might we sit while I tell you?"

  Albrecht took the firewood to the box next to the mud and clay oven set a short distance from the cottage while the reclusive woman took the younger woman's arm and led her to the neck in the shade where they had sat so very many times before.

  The young people shared their tales of flight amid laughter. Finally Magdalena broke in. "It was a terrible risk you took, my children. It still is."

  Subdued, the runaways looked anywhere but at the woman. She went on, "Albrecht, I need to speak with Elisabeth privately."

  He jumped up, bowed, and made himself scarce.

  Magdalena adjusted so she was turned more toward Elisabeth on the bench. "Have you really thought this plan through, my darling?" she asked.

  Elisabeth started to nod firmly, but stopped with her lips parted to speak. With a resigned sigh, she shook her head. "No, I haven't."

  "Do you know where you are going? What you are going to do?"

  Leaning forward, Elisabeth reached for the grass growing at her feet and pulled some stalks out of the ground. "No, I mean, I have some ideas. I just haven't made up my mind."

  Magdalena considered her for a while and then said, "You just had to get away."

  Elisabeth looked up and her face was bright. "Yes, and there was no time to be cautious. Albrecht's life was at risk." She looked away. "And Reinhardt is back. He used me, more than once, and I swear I will die ere I let him do that again."

  The older woman reached to rub the young woman's back. "Oh, my dear. I am so sorry." She felt the tension in Elisabeth's muscles. They did not relax as she rubbed. "You know you have family, do you not? In Lombardy, your mother's people." Magdalena reached a hand to stroke her hair.

  "Yes, I have never met any of them. But I suppose that is where I will go. But, will they just turn me over to Reinhardt?" Her eyes pleaded with Magdalena.

  Magdalena shook her head. "I know not."

  They sat on in silence. Finally Elisabeth spoke up. In what she hoped was a lighter tone, she announced, "Hans thinks Albrecht and I are lovers. Isn't that ridiculous?"

  Magdalena gave her an anxious look. "It's not impossible, you know. He's quite attached to you."

  Cocking her head Elisabeth started, "But . . . but he's . . . "

  The woman put her arm around her shoulders and pulled her head to her neck. "It isn't just one or the other, you know. A man like that, like your brother and his friend, they can make love to women too. It isn't about what you can do but what you want to do."

  Elisabeth thought about this. "Does that mean that Albrecht will change and get married?"

  She felt the woman's shake of her head. "Not likely. He knows what real love is for him now. I just mean he's not . . . well, unable to be your lover." She pulled her head away from Elisabeth's and tried to peer into her lowered face. "Are you in love with Albrecht, darling?"

  Elisabeth thought about it. She sat up and crossed her arms about her chest. "No, I don't think I am. I would like to be, but there just isn't that sort of spark. The one I think means you love someone." She looked over at Magdalena. "How do you know so much about all this, I mean, love, making love, men who love other men and all?"

  Magdalena stood and wandered to the back of the bench.

  The younger woman continued, "Magda, did you love someone once? I mean . . . before . . . ?"

  The woman gave her a resigned look. She turned her back so she was facing the shading tree behind the bench. "Yes, I did love someone once. It was a long time ago. I was young and vain. There was a lad I wanted, oh how I wanted him! But as far as I could tell, he did not know I existed. I started following him about, out of sight. I finally found him, rather like when you found your brother and Albrecht, kissing another man. I watched them all the way through, saw everything they did. I was horrified and so angry. I met my fellow on the path as he came back to the village. I told him what I saw. He begged me not to tell anyone else. He said he would do anything for me if I kept silent."

  "What did you do?" Elisabeth urged when the woman's voice trailed off.

  Magdalena turned back to her. There were tears on her face. "I told him I would not tell anyone if . . . he married me."

  "Did he?"

  Magdalena came around and sat by her again. "Yes he did. We were truly man and wife. But I made it clear he was not to go with his lover any more. It broke his heart. He took his own life."

  "Oh no, dear, dear Magda!"

  "That is why I became a recluse, in penance. I selfishly stole a man's heart and soul. If I live to be one hundred I shall never forgive myself. I can only pray that God is one who understands about love, all kinds of love."

  Elisabeth nodded thoughtfully. "I always just accepted what you said about love, because you were kind and wise. I see now you have a reason to believe what you said. Love should be free, should be a gift. It should never be forced. I don't think it can be." She hesitated. "No, I am not in love with Albrecht. Even if he wanted to love me, it just would not be right. I don't know why not. Something just tells me there is someone out there somewhere for me. I don't know where or when I will meet him, but I shall. And then I will know."

  Magdalena smiled sadly and put her hand on the young woman's cheek. "You are well on your way to wisdom yourself, darling. You are right. There is someone out there, I am sure. And something tells me that when it comes you will indeed know."

  Albrecht hovered just out of earshot. Elisabeth called, "Don't just stand there! Tell me where the horses are."

  "God, it's heavy!" Elisabeth cried as Albrecht and Magdalena struggled to redistribute the weight of the chain mail coat on her shoulders.

  "You get used to it," Albrecht reassured. "Wait until you try the helm!"

  It was the next morning, and Elisabeth and Albrecht were readying to leave Magdalena's tiny hermitage. The rest of the day before Magdalena had plied her needle making adjustments to Elias's clothing so they would fit his sister, though in fact there had been less need than she anticipated. Harder was how to deal with the armor, something becoming apparent now that Elisabeth had the mail coat on.

  "Your arms are too short," Albrecht said as she shook out her arms so the links would fall into place. "And your legs too, even though you are almost as tall as Elias."

  "Women are shaped differently from men," Magdalena observed.

  The squi
re gave her a look. "No, really?" There was a humorous sparkle in his eye.

  "Can they be shortened? Not my arms and legs, the mail?"

  He looked at the older woman. "Do you have any sort of metal cutters?" When she shook her head, he went on. "We will have to wait until we can get some. I had not thought of it. In the meantime, let's hope you don't trip, my lady."

  "Now the helm?" Elisabeth asked.

  He shook his head. "We should wait until you are on your horse."

  "I think you should let her try it while she still has two feet on the ground. On the horse she might lose her balance."

  "You are right," Albrecht responded. He leaned to lift the heavy metal helm from where it sat on the ground. "No, don't lean over. You could break your neck."

  Magdalena had shorn Elisabeth's hair the evening before. The young woman exulted in how cool and free she felt. Now she stood with the mail hood covering what was left. She stood straight, as the man had advised.

  He lifted the helm over her head and slowly lowered it as far as it would go.

  "Ouch! The mail is biting into my scalp!" Elisabeth cried.

  Magdalena quickly snatched up the quilted coif that lay nearby. "She needs this under her mail hood."

  Already taking the helm off her, Albrecht apologized. "I forgot that. I am so sorry, my lady."

  Elisabeth chided, "You better start calling me 'my lord' so you get used to it."

  She pushed her mail hood back so Magdalena could fit the quilted head covering over her hair, tying the strings under her chin.

  "No, bring the strings around to the back of her neck. Otherwise the knot will get uncomfortable under her chin." Albrecht lifted his own bearded chin to show where the strings crossed and wrapped around to the back.

  With her mail hood back in place, Albrecht lifted her helm over Elisabeth's head again. "It is heavy. I don't have to wear it every minute, do I?"

  "No, just in battle, or if you anticipate battle. And I will put the gorget on next time. That will even out the weight. Mostly you just carry the thing, strapped to your saddle."