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Beloved Pilgrim

Page 9

by Nan Hawthorne


  Elisabeth tried to shrug her shoulders but the helm was weighing too heavily to allow her to do that. Nevertheless she felt exhilarated. "Why do I feel like I've done all this before?"

  Magdalena smiled. "Perhaps it's not so much that you have done it before but that you were meant to."

  Albrecht stepped back to survey his handiwork. He took a deep startled breath. The two women looked quizzically at him. "You look so much like Elias." He turned and walked a distance away to cover his sudden surge of grief.

  She did look just like her brother as she stood there in his clothes and armor. She did not have Elias's short beard showing between the cheek plates of his helm, but her form, already angular and now sheathed in the thick layer of clothes, padded jerkin, and mail, and the bearing with which she held herself made her truly her brother's twin. She looked like a very young man.

  Looking from Elisabeth to the squire, Magdalena said, "Wait here. I have something for you."

  Albrecht took the minute that Magdalena needed to retrieve some items from her cottage to regain his composure. He turned back just as Magdalena came out.

  "Here, if you are a pilgrim, then you need a pilgrim's cross." Magdalena reached out a hand and put a cross on a leather thong into Elisabeth's. "And you need a cloak."

  Albrecht and Elisabeth stood and gaped at the item the woman held up and shook out. It was a cloak with armholes and which must be pulled on over one's head. As she held it by its shoulders, the two were able to see that it was very white wool with a red cross sewn onto one side of the upper breast.

  "A crusader's cloak!" Elisabeth cried. Her eyes lifted to Magdalena's, full of gratitude and awe. She had already removed her helm carefully, and now she strung the cross around her neck. Magdalene bunched up the cloak so she could put it over her head. She let it fall, and Elisabeth slipped her arms in the armholes. Magdalena stepped forward to shake out the garment so it would hang right.

  "Why did you make me a pilgrim's cloak? You know I am not planning to go on crusade for real."

  Magdalena shook her head. "Let's just say I wanted to see you in one." Her look was unreadable.

  Elisabeth raised her arms as Albrecht reached around her to put the heavy sword belt on her. Buckling it he looked up into her eyes. "You truly are Elias," he murmured. He shook his head as though to clear it. He stepped back and tried to joke, "Except you are missing something important."

  Elisabeth twisted from side to side examining herself. "What? The gorget?"

  Albrecht and Magdalena exchanged conspiratorial looks. "You have to be born with what he is talking about," Magdalena chuckled. "Oh, that reminds me, how are you going to pee?"

  Elisabeth stood nonplussed. "I suppose I could be a very shy young knight?" she proposed.

  "You wouldn't be the first," Albrecht responded. "I can let it out you have some sort of disfigurement . . . down there . . . and are ashamed to let anyone see it."

  Magdalena had a most un-nun-like look on her face. "You could tell others the disfigurement is that it is massive!" she quipped wickedly.

  The other two stared at her surprised, and then both fell into laughter. "No, I'd better not. Then everyone will want to see it."

  Elisabeth's lips spread in a smile of complete satisfaction. "This feels so right. I feel like I am fully dressed for the first time." She swung one leg and then the other, reveling in the freedom of no skirts. "I feel like I am completely me for the first time."

  Magdalena went up to her and stood on tiptoe to plant a chaste kiss on her forehead. The two women looked with understanding into each other's eyes.

  The horses were saddled, and Albrecht was mounted on Carlchen. Elisabeth stood fully armored now except for her helm, which was secured to Gauner's saddle. A third horse was piled with what supplies they had accumulated.

  She held Magdalena's hands and looked into her face. Her voice broke as she said, "I can never repay you for all you have done for me, have meant to me. What are you going to do now?"

  Magdalena glanced about. "Why, stay here and keep praying for forgiveness," she said.

  "What will you do if they question you about where I have gone?"

  "I will tell them you gave me the slip and ran off with that scoundrel over there." She smiled in Albrecht's direction. "If they get difficult, I will just move my little homestead somewhere else." She put her fingertips to Elisabeth's cheek and wiped away tears. "None of that now, Sir Knight. If you weep the other knights will beat you up."

  The young woman who stood in armor tried to smile. As Magdalena said a prayer of blessing over her, she nodded. She turned to see that Albrecht had carefully led Gauner so she could step up on the wooden bench to mount. Gratefully, she stepped up onto the bench, not without feeling anew the weight of all the armor, and mounted her horse. Unable to speak, she looked one last time at Magdalena, turning her horse to follow Albrecht through the wooded path to the road beyond.

  At the road she halted Gauner. Albrecht looked back concerned.

  "I need to be a girl for one last time," she explained. He could see tears running down her cheeks.

  "Boys weep too, my lord," he told her. "We just don't let others see it."

  Elisabeth gradually began to get used to the weight of all her armor as she rode Gauner along the muddy road to the east. She was in the lead now, as the two traveled as a knight and his squire. In the few encounters they had on the road, those passing them in the opposite direction simply saluted and made humble greetings. When two young women riding in a hay cart sneaked looks at Elisabeth and giggled, the object of their ogling was thrilled.

  "They thought I am a man!" she announced to Albrecht.

  "It doesn't surprise me. But there is one thing we need to work on," he replied.

  "What's that?"

  "Your voice. The way you talk. You don't sound girlish so much as just not masculine. Let me think, what can we do about that?" He thought a few moments, then looked up with a broad smile. "I know. Swear like a man, my lord! It will be hard to stay sounding female if you get in the habit of speaking coarsely."

  Riding along more or less side by side with him, Elisabeth asked, "You mean like this? Bugger off, varlet!"

  Albrecht slapped his thigh, leaned his head back to erupt into delighted laughter. "That is it! What a hoot to hear it."

  Elisabeth smiled back. "You scurvy son of a poxy whore! I will slice you from cock to chin, so I will, and you can use your stinking guts as a rope to hang your miserable self."

  Albrecht had to hang on to his saddle's pommel to keep from slipping off. He screamed with laughter.

  "Take that, demon spawn, and may you spend eternity in a vat of excrement up to your eyes!"

  "Enough, enough," Albrecht pleaded. "You're killing me!" He halted Carlchen and sat wiping his eyes and catching his breath. "You are too good at it. Practice like that, but I would not advise ever actually saying that sort of thing to anyone. Not if you want to keep your body and soul tethered to each other." He sighed. "God, I needed that." He looked up. "My lord."

  "You know, I think you should shave me," Elisabeth said, stroking her chin.

  "Shave you? Albrecht asked, startled. "You can't grow a beard."

  Elisabeth looked over at him. "We have to make it look like I can and would if you do not shave me."

  "But how about when you go back to, you know, being a woman?"

  An odd speculative look crossed her face. "I'll worry about that when it happens."

  The two rode along the road that would ultimately bring them to the Danube where they could get passage on a river barge downstream to Austria. Throughout the journey they could see the imposing Alps rising on their right, between Bavaria and Italy.

  At a crossroads, Elisabeth let her horse fall back so she could ask Albrecht, "Is this the road we would take to Italy?"

  "I think so. I think this one leads to the Brenner Pass. Why, my lord? Are you thinking of going to your Lombard kin after all?"

  The look in her
eyes was far away. "No, not that. Just curious."

  Elisabeth continued to practice her masculine voice. Albrecht cautioned her not to lower it. "You sound like you are faking it," he said.

  "Well, I am faking it," she protested.

  "Yes, my lord, but you don't want to sound like it."

  When they camped, as tired as they were, Albrecht made her practice her already formidable sword skills but with the addition of learning to maneuver in the armor. She was beginning to notice that every day it was easier. She also felt freer and stronger than she ever had felt.

  They came toward a densely wooded patch where the road disappeared in the gloom. "Put your helm on, my lord," Albrecht told her. "There may be brigands."

  She looked ahead with interest. "Really?" She was grinning.

  It was harrowing to ride into the woods where the trees' branches were so interlaced that little more than scraps of the sun's light made it to where they slowly advanced.

  "Ahead," Albrecht abruptly spoke.

  She followed his gaze to where three men stood in the road, obscured in the darkness but still identifiable. "Brigands?"

  "Probably," Albrecht replied. He drew his sword and continued to ride slowly toward the men. He dropped the packhorse's lead so he could lift his wooden shield to his chest. Elisabeth followed suit, her heart racing with anticipation of her first real encounter.

  It was not easy to see, with the gloom and the narrow view from the helms. The two rode steadily forward, keeping their eyes on the trio on the road. Albrecht called, "You, there, make way for the Lord of Winterkirche!"

  The men appeared to consult with one another. One lifted a bow and fired an arrow toward them, but it flew wide. The men suddenly turned and dashed away into the thick of the woods.

  "Well, damn and hell," Elisabeth swore.

  Albrecht did not respond. He looked puzzled, then turned to look behind them. "Damn and hell indeed. The pack horse." He whirled Carlchen and spurred him back the way they came.

  Elisabeth turned Gauner in time to see their packhorse's arse disappear into the thicket alongside the road.

  "Two, I think," Albrecht shouted back to her.

  She spurred Gauner into a run and caught up with Albrecht. She let Gauner follow Carlchen off the road into the trees. Gauner, a superior mount to Carlchen, overtook him and spurted forward. She lifted her sword to strike as the two came up to the stolen packhorse and the thieves.

  One man shouted something to his companion and dashed ahead on his own. Elisabeth leaned down as she rode past the man who gripped the packhorse's lead rope. He turned to glare at her, starting to raise a short sword. She brought her arm down with all her might. Her sword bit into his shoulder where it was attached to his neck. He screamed and loosed the pack animal, falling as Elisabeth shot past him.

  Breathless she slowed and turned her horse to ride back and finish the man off. She saw the squire dismount and walk to the screaming man. As she rode forward she saw him raise his own sword and bring it down on the man's uncovered head.

  Halting Gauner, Elisabeth slid off the saddle and came up next to Albrecht. She looked down at the man they had killed. His shoulder was a bloody mass of carved raw meat, but it was his head and face that she fixed her appalled gaze on. His skull was split from his crown to his mouth. She could see his brains as they oozed out. One of his eyes lay out and down the side of his face. She quickly pulled off her helm, turned, doubled up and vomited. Albrecht reached to hold her shoulders as she heaved.

  Standing up Elisabeth wiped her mouth with the sleeve of her chain mail hauberk. It scratched her face, and the vomit stung and made her wince. "I . . . I'm sorry. It's just that . . . that was my first kill."

  Albrecht looked at her, his eyes distant. "I know. Mine too." He turned away from her and heaved. It was her turn to hold his shoulders.

  Just then they both heard a zip and saw a crossbow bolt bury itself in the eye of the packhorse. Its head jerked back with the impact and it toppled over sideways.

  Raising her sword, Elisabeth began to run forward, cursing, but Albrecht reached out a hand and snatched at her. "Stop! There's no point."

  She slowed and came back to him. "I suppose you are right. The best that could happen is that I get a bolt in my own eye."

  Albrecht nodded, his shoulders slumped. "We had better get back on the road. No sense standing here like targets."

  She whipped her head around but could see no bandits. "What about the horse? The supplies?"

  "Unless you want to eat the horse, leave it to them. As far as the supplies . . . " He shrugged. "I didn't see the packs still on the horse. The other man must've unstrapped them while we were still advancing on the other three."

  She followed him back to their mounts. He helped her up and then dragged himself up onto this own mount.

  As they returned to the road she realized she still had her sword in her hand. She raised it to sheath it and saw the blood. Seeing her tremble he snapped, "Here!"

  Startled, she looked over to see that he had tossed her his neck kerchief. She snatched it out of the air.

  "Clean your sword," he said, realizing that he had successfully shocked her out of a fit.

  The kerchief was clotted with blood and worse already, but she wiped away as much as she could before sheathing her sword.

  He watched her and knew he could chide her saying, "And you wanted to kill Paynim? Good thing you were never really serious."

  They camped, though they no longer had their tent or bedrolls, when they found themselves where a small pier jutted out into the flow of a huge river. "The Danube?" Elisabeth asked.

  "Yes," Albrecht said. "Almost there."

  She gave him an odd look, but did not say any more until the light had gone and they were ready to roll up in their cloaks and sleep by their campfire.

  "Albrecht, I have to tell you something," she began.

  He stopped trying to get comfortable on the ground and looked up expectantly. "My lord?"

  Hesitantly, she continued. "I want to keep going." He did not interrupt, so she went on. "I love this. I love the freedom, the adventure, and the independence, even the fighting. I don't want to be a woman any more. I want to be a man."

  Albrecht sat up and wrapped his arms around his bent knees, his eyes focused on Elisabeth. "I don't understand."

  She looked up and straight into his face. "I think you do understand."

  He considered, and then asked, "Are you saying you want to persist in the masquerade? To try to live your life as a man, a fake one?"

  She shrugged. "More than that. I want to stay a knight. I want to go to the Holy Land. I want to do what my brother was to do. I want to fight Paynim and to make it to Jerusalem and the Church of the Holy Sepulcher." She looked down and plucked at the crusader's cloak she wore. "I want this to mean something, to be real." She glanced up, then firmed her jaw and said in a stern voice, "I don't just want that. I am going to do that." Her voice softened. "And I want you to go with me, to be my squire."

  Albrecht gazed at her for some time. He suddenly got to his feet and bowed to her where she sat on the ground. "My lord, I would be honored to continue to be your squire."

  Elisabeth jumped up and they locked arms. Her face was lit with anticipation, but at the same time with earnestness and anxiety. "Thank you, Albrecht," she said breathlessly. Then she added, "Deus lo volt. God wills it."

  Albrecht grinned. "I just hope He knows that."

  Chapter Six ~ Ida

  Days later after threading the deep gorges carved in the mountains by the River Danube on a small river craft, Elisabeth and Albrecht heard the captain announce, "Mölk ahead. All departing ready yourselves."

  As they saddled their horses, Elisabeth looked at the town growing closer on the south bank. She could see some sort of stone structure under construction. Glancing at one of the other passengers, she found her quizzical expression answered by the man. "That's the Margrave's new monastery. They say once it is built
he will move his residence somewhere else."

  One of the crew interjected, "Well I don't care. Even if he and his court move away, it's not like there is no other traffic on the river. Especially with you crusader knights going back to the Holy Land to finish what you started."

  Elisabeth marveled that he was indicating her when he said "crusader knight," and she looked down at the red cross sewn on her tabard.

  "God wills it," she murmured. She could only hope that God would forgive her masquerade.

  Masquerade or no, Elisabeth continued to marvel over how readily everyone she came in contact with accepted her as a man. A young man, almost a boy, but a man all the same. As she and Albrecht waited outside the hall of Margrave Leopold she whispered her surprise to Albrecht. Since they had been among other armed men, many of them wearing the cross of the crusader, Albrecht had taken more care to walk behind her and to defer to her in every way. He introduced her as "Elias, Ritter of Winterkirche."

  "I have only seen one person look oddly at me when you introduced me. That court official, the one who left to ask the Margrave if he would see us."

  Albrecht glanced about to assure himself they were not overheard. "I noticed that too, my lord. I suppose we will learn the truth soon."

  Elisabeth enjoyed the playacting that was a survival tactic for her now. She made a point of watching how other knights stood, how they laughed and talked, and how they treated their equals and their inferiors.

  She tried a swagger, leaned indolently against the wall, cleaned her ear with her finger, and belched when she needed to. It helped her distract her worry about whether Reinhardt had seen through their ruse or whether perhaps Hans played them false. While on the road she was confident they had the jump on any pursuit, but now, in Mölk for who knew how long, her anxiety about pursuit returned. The sooner she and Albrecht could get on the journey to Constantinople, the calmer she would feel, she guessed.

  The door to the hall creaked open and the court official bowed to her. "My Lord Elias, their Graces will see you now."

 

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