by Ellin Carsta
“Your horse is ready, my lord.” Ansgar had stepped inside the hall adjacent to the inner courtyard.
“My thanks.”
“And here are your provisions for the journey.” Elsbeth came out from the kitchen and handed her son a bundle.
“Thank you. I’m certain that Helene prepared something delicious as usual.” He tried to smile but couldn’t quite bring himself to do it. He embraced and kissed Madlen again. “Take good care of the children! I’ll be back before you know it. And then everything will be as it should.”
“I know.” Madlen tried to exude confidence. “I’ll tell the children you said good-bye and that you’ll be back soon.”
Johannes bade farewell to his mother, then started to walk down the hall. He stopped and turned around. “One more thing.” He pointed upstairs. “He’ll be drinking nothing but water, no matter how much he screams and shouts and fusses and fights. If you must, lock the door to his bedchamber. He gets water, nothing more. Wine and schnapps have brought enough shame on this family.”
“So be it,” his mother said. She took Madlen’s hand as if to steady herself.
It seemed as if Johannes had something more to say, but instead he simply waved good-bye. Madlen stared at the empty hallway for a few moments. He had gone. Just like that. She was possessed by an overwhelming fear that this might be the last time she’d ever see her husband.
“Come on,” Elsbeth said, pulling her out of her thoughts of doom and gloom. “We must get out of this house. Otherwise I’ll go insane. Let’s go to Agathe’s.” She gripped Madlen’s shoulders and pushed her toward the door. Too stunned to resist, the younger woman started to move. But the ominous feeling she had about her husband’s departure remained.
“Please, Agathe, you have to tell me the truth. Did you know about this?” Elsbeth looked at her pleadingly.
Madlen’s aunt shifted in her seat. This line of questioning made her feel quite uncomfortable. What could she say without provoking criticism or offending? “I heard gossip now and then,” she admitted. “But there’s always gossip; that’s just what people do.”
“What are people saying?” Elsbeth persisted, her expression cold.
“Why do you want to torment yourself like this? The truth has already come out, and that’s bad enough. Why do you want to do this to—”
“What are people saying?”
“They say that Peter is a skirt-chaser and that he paid well for it, if he had to. He also procured the necessary herbs and potions if a girl became pregnant by him.” Agathe sighed.
Elsbeth closed her eyes, obviously choking back her tears. Madlen glared at her aunt.
“She insisted on hearing what was said! Don’t look at me like that. I don’t deserve anybody’s reproach.”
Elsbeth opened her eyes. “I’m not reproaching you. It’s just that I’m dismayed that you never told me, despite the deep friendship we’ve developed over the years.”
Agathe bowed her head. “I came close to telling you many times. But then I thought it was none of my business, and I didn’t want to hurt you. Besides, I had no idea how you’d take it.” She reached for Elsbeth’s hand. “I do not want to lose your friendship.”
“I understand,” Elsbeth said. “And I probably would have done the same thing in your position.”
“What are you going to do now?”
“I can’t do anything. Everything is in Johannes’s and the archbishop’s hands now. Let’s pray that Friedrich doesn’t blame Johannes for what his father did.”
“I know Friedrich,” Madlen said. “He’s an intelligent and sensible man. He has succeeded where so many others have failed: he freed the diocese of its debts. If anybody knows about indebtedness, it’s him.”
Suddenly there was a racket at the front door. “Roswitha must be back with the children,” Agathe said. “I promised I’d take them to the harbor later. Do you want to come along?”
“We might as well, since we can’t really do anything while we’re waiting for Johannes to return. The question is whether we can leave Peter alone for so long,” Madlen said.
“I’m too outraged to waste another thought on my husband!” Elsbeth blurted out. “And I’m not ready to go home to creditors waiting at my door.”
“Then stay here,” Agathe said. “Helene will take care of Peter. He doesn’t deserve any more care than that after what he’s done to you. You’ll have some peace and quiet here and, most importantly, the children will not be exposed to any of this foolishness.”
As if on cue, Cecilia and Veit barged in. “Mother! We went to the market with Roswitha. Look, she bought us some candied fruit.”
“Candied fruit?” Madlen threw Agathe a look.
“Yes, I gave her permission to do so,” the aunt confessed. “So what? I see them both so rarely that I can’t help but spoil them a bit.”
“Your mouth is smeared with sweets.” Madlen took out a handkerchief and handed it to Veit.
Veit wiped his face. The stickiest parts stubbornly remained.
“Are we going to the harbor soon, Aunt Agathe? Please?” Cecilia crawled up onto her great-aunt’s lap. Agathe pulled the little girl close.
“Of course. I promised you both we would.” She looked at Madlen uncertainly.
“And Grandmother and I will come, too,” Madlen declared.
“Really?” Cecilia said excitedly.
“But first you have to go wash your face.”
“Come on, Veit,” Cecilia said as she loosened herself from Agathe’s embrace and slipped off her lap. Her brother followed without objection.
“Your children are simply amazing.” Agathe watched them as they raced toward the washroom.
“So true,” Elsbeth agreed. “They’ve brought the house back to life.” She wrung her hands. “I only regret the terrible circumstances that brought them here.”
“Don’t even think about that,” Madlen told her. “I have no doubt that Johannes will convince Friedrich. And then everything will be all right again.”
Elsbeth gratefully regarded her daughter-in-law. “Let’s go to the harbor with the children. A little fresh air will do all of us good.”
“So you see that fisherman’s boat there?” Agathe pointed. Cecilia and Veit followed her outstretched arm with their eyes, then nodded eagerly. “That used to belong to us.”
“You had a boat?” Veit was impressed.
“Yes, that’s right. My late husband was a fisherman.”
“So why are you a seamstress now?”
Agathe smiled good-naturedly. “Because the Good Lord gave me a special talent for trade, and the guild allowed me to practice. I am a fortunate woman.”
“What’s a guild, Agathe?” Cecilia asked.
“Well, it’s a kind of union of men that ensures that the merchant trade and skilled craftsmen flourish and prosper in our beautiful city.”
“That’s really nice of those men to take care of things like that,” Cecilia said.
Agathe smiled. “Yes, little one, I couldn’t agree more. That’s really nice of them.”
“Madlen?”
Everyone turned in the direction of the voice. A woman rushed toward them.
“It’s really you! My Lord, it’s really you!”
“Otilia!” Madlen exclaimed.
The two women embraced. “I had no idea you were in Worms. What a pleasant surprise!”
“It’s wonderful to see you, Otilia. How are you?”
“Excellent. And my daughter, Reni, too.” Otilia greeted Elsbeth and Agathe, then looked at the children.
Madlen followed her gaze. “Otilia, this is my son, Veit, and my daughter, Cecilia.”
Veit tried to remember how to behave toward a stranger, especially one that was so fancy and well dressed. He finally decided to bow, and his little sister curtsied. Madlen looked on, nearly bursting with pride.
“The last time I saw you, you were just a young maiden. And now you’re a mother! How time flies. You look happy,
Madlen. And there is no one in the world who deserves happiness more than you.” Otilia leaned down to address the children. “Do you know that your mother is a great woman? Years ago, she saved my daughter Reni’s life. And today my Reni is a mother herself! She has given me the most charming grandson.”
Cecilia looked up at her mother. “What did you do, Mother?”
“Do you remember the herbs I pointed out on the way here? They helped cure Reni from a terrible cough.”
“That’s really nice of the herbs,” Cecilia said.
Veit shuffled his feet impatiently. “Can we go now, Mother?”
“Yes, Veit. Soon.”
“What a coincidence that you’re in the city at the exact same time as another healer!” Otilia exclaimed.
“What do you mean?” Madlen looked at her uncertainly.
“You haven’t heard? He’s passing through on his way to Heidelberg. He’ll be teaching at the university there. Can you imagine? He studied in the Orient, and he’s bringing his knowledge here!”
“Really?” Madlen’s eyes lit up. “In the Orient? The most gifted scholars of our time are from there. And he’s on his way to Heidelberg?” A look passed between her and her aunt. Agathe knew all about her niece’s unquenchable thirst for the practice of the healing arts.
“How often I’ve longed to be a man so that I could study medicine!” Madlen said.
“But if you were a man, you wouldn’t have been able to give birth to us,” Veit said, furrowing his brow indignantly.
“That’s true, my love.” She smiled as she stroked his cheek.
“Would you like to be introduced to him?” Otilia asked. “He’s our houseguest. My husband is a good friend of his father’s.”
Madlen looked back and forth between Agathe and Elsbeth, then at her children.
“Don’t worry,” Elsbeth said. “We can take care of them.”
“Really? Are you sure it’s not an imposition?”
“Of course not,” Agathe said. “Why would it be? Elsbeth and I will finally have the children all to ourselves. It’s no bother at all.”
Madlen hesitated, then made her decision. “It would be an enormous pleasure to meet your guest, Otilia.”
“Wonderful. Then come with me. I’ve already told him so much about you. He will doubtless be just as glad to meet you, too.”
Madlen kissed Veit and Cecilia on their foreheads and hugged Agathe and Elsbeth. She could hardly wait to get to Otilia’s house.
“Franz, may I introduce you to Madlen? She’s the woman I told you about, the one who healed Reni. She’s renowned as the secret healer throughout Worms. Madlen, our guest, Dr. Franz von Beyenburg.”
“She honors me more than I deserve,” Madlen said, then stepped toward the honored guest. “May God bless you!”
“And may He bless my lady with health and happiness,” Franz said politely.
“It’s such a pleasure to meet you, sir.”
“Same here. I’ve heard so much about you already.”
“Really? I’m certain that Otilia has praised me too much, out of gratitude for Reni’s recovery. Nonetheless I was happy to help.”
“Let’s sit down and enjoy a bit of spiced wine,” Otilia offered, motioning toward an adjoining room.
Madlen furtively studied Franz as they strolled into the room. She was surprised to find that he wasn’t her father’s age. In fact, he didn’t seem any older than Johannes. He was about as tall as her husband, but in contrast to Johannes’s blondness, his hair was almost black, with wild curls cascading down the nape of his neck.
“Please, sit down. Oh, how glad I am to be present at this gathering!” Otilia clapped her hands together excitedly. “I just need to tell the maid that we are ready to be served. I’ll be back in a moment.”
Madlen smiled at her as she left the room. She felt a bit uncomfortable being left alone with a man who was little more than a stranger. It was such an unusual situation that she almost regretted accepting the invitation.
“Otilia said that you heal with medicinal herbs?” Franz said, breaking the silence.
“Well, in truth it’s been a very long time since I’ve practiced the healing arts.”
Franz smiled. “Once the knowledge of the healing arts is acquired, one never forgets it. What made you give it up?”
Madlen searched for the right words. “Actually, I never really made that decision. I started out assisting a midwife in my hometown of Heidelberg. She treated female conditions of all sorts. She taught me a lot about medicinal herbs and their effects. For a while I secretly hoped to become a midwife, or at least to be allowed to heal people whenever I could.” She looked down at her hands. “But the Lord chose another path for me.”
“Which was?”
The memory of when she’d been accused of killing a baby and its mother still held a terrible power over Madlen. Suddenly she felt as though a thick rope was tied around her chest. She swallowed hard.
“It’s a long story,” she said evasively. She was glad when Otilia returned, followed by the maid.
“A little refreshment will be just the thing,” Otilia declared. She took two goblets off the maid’s tray and handed them to her guests. The maid poured such generous servings of spiced wine that Madlen was tempted to refuse her drink. But she didn’t want to be rude and so she allowed herself to be served. Otilia sat and looked expectantly from Franz to Madlen and back again.
“And? Have you two been talking about the wonders of the healing arts?”
“Madlen . . . Oh, excuse me. May I call you Madlen?”
“Yes, of course.”
“Good. Call me Franz. Madlen was just saying that early in her career she had been attracted to the treatment of women’s conditions.”
“That’s true. I know my herbs. But I know that has little to do with the true healing arts.”
“I must respectfully disagree. The correct and very careful application of herbal remedies often brings about a more successful cure than traditional medical intervention, which has a rather low success rate.”
Madlen cocked her head to the side and watched Franz closely. She liked the way he talked and, even more, what he said. He had such a pleasant way about him. When he returned her stare, she felt embarrassed and quickly looked away.
“I hear you studied in the Orient. Please, tell me all about it!”
Franz laughed. “In the Orient? Me? Who told you that? No, I studied at the Schola Medica Salernitana, the medical school in Salerno. And that is well known to be in Italy,” he joked.
“Oh, not in the Orient? Didn’t you say you had teachers from the Orient?” Otilia said in surprise.
“Yes, that’s correct. The curriculum does include the medical knowledge of the old Orient. Does the name Constantinus Africanus mean anything to you?”
“No, unfortunately not,” Madlen said, a bit ashamed of her ignorance.
“He was a famous herbalist. People say he originally came to Salerno as a North African trader. He had extensive experience in the medicine of the Middle East and eventually converted to Christianity. Africanus also translated important Arab and Greek medical documents as well as the teachings of Hippocrates.”
Madlen’s heart started racing. Hippocrates! She had studied whatever she could about this great man. To her, he was more than just a Greek scholar; her admiration for him was so all encompassing that sometimes she had to remind herself not to equate the great physician with God.
“Yes, I’ve heard a lot about the teachings of Hippocrates,” she said.
“I admire this man and what he accomplished beyond all measure. I heard many stories about him as a child. From that time on, there hasn’t been a single day that I didn’t want to be just like him.” Franz chuckled. “Well, despite my best efforts, the light of day shows me all too clearly that that was only a dream.”
“Don’t say that,” Otilia said. “You’ve acquired an outstanding reputation.”
Franz accepted the words of
praise with a nod, then turned to Madlen again. “You still haven’t told me why you gave up the healing arts.”
“Well, I’m just a woman.”
“Yes, I see that. But that doesn’t answer my question.”
Madlen wasn’t sure what to say. She shrugged. “I got married and had children.” She looked at Otilia and then added, “And if I can be quite frank with you, I was often forced to hide my activities—and myself.”
“And what forced you to do this?”
“I’m not a real doctor, and it’s common knowledge that only a real doctor can heal. All others will”—she lowered her voice—“very quickly be seen as working with the devil.”
Franz laughed. “Yes, people are quick to condemn that which they do not understand. You’ve got that right. But that’s not what I meant. When you said just now that long ago you hoped to become a midwife or healer, your eyes lit up. So, I wonder, why did you give up your gift for the herbal healing arts? Have you never wished to become a physician? Don’t you believe that the Lord might have intended this for you? Marriage and children needn’t prevent you from following your innermost desires.”
“With all due respect, Franz, I do believe you aren’t taking me seriously.”
“Please forgive me if I’ve said something offensive. I haven’t been back from Salerno for very long, and evidently I need to refamiliarize myself with the customs of this land.” He observed Madlen for a moment. “Now I suspect where my mistake lies. Are women here still not permitted to go to university or to become physicians?”
“Franz, I ask you, what are you talking about?” Otilia said indignantly.
Franz lifted his hands in defense. “Please, let me explain. It’s just that the more enlightened traditions of other countries have become so second nature to me that I take them for granted.”
Madlen’s heart beat wildly. Was this man out of his mind, or did she understand the implications of what she’d just heard, something she’d never thought possible?
“Let me tell you a story,” Franz continued. “More than three hundred years ago, there was a woman named Trotula von Salerno. She was certified in the healing arts and in medicine, and she was a member of the Schola Medica Salernitana. That was a long time ago.” He took a sip of his wine. “Women are still able to study at the Schola Medica Salernitana to this day, though there are not as many women as men at the school. Believe me. I’ve seen it with my own eyes. And so, should you ever want to explore the vocation of the healing arts, as soon as your children no longer need your support, you could.”