Beloved Pilgrim

by Christopher Hawthorne Moss

  Elisabeth forgot her fear and grief in the excitement. “I have an even better idea.” She waited for him to look back up at her. “I will go to stay at Sister Magdalena’s for a few days. You will leave before me. Then once I am there, you will come. You will transport the armor before that. Once you come, I will put on the armor and leave. No one will see us leave together.”

  Albrecht put his palms down on either side of his hips and suddenly seemed to realize where he was. He leaped up as if scalded, then stood a moment and gazed at the bed. Muttering something under his breath, he sighed and turned back to her. “It could work. But what about Hans?” he asked again.

  “Leave Hans to me. Besides, what have we got to lose?”

  He gave her a mournful look. “Indeed.”

  She stood and went to the massive armoire against one wall, then pulled the two doors toward her to reveal her brother’s armor. “Do you think it will fit me?”

  Albrecht came to her side. He reached to stroke the front of the breastplate. “You are of a height with him. The sleeves may be too long. The mail leggings too, and the boots too big, but we can manage. You won’t actually have to fight in it, after all.”

  Albrecht joined her by a large chest and opened the heavy lid. He reached for a tunic that lay carefully folded on top of the rest of Elias’s clothes. He held it to his chest for a moment; his eyes closed, and then he held it out to her. “I can see already this will fit loosely.”

  As Elisabeth took the tunic, as well as a few other items of clothing, and held them up against her, Albrecht continued to search through the chest. She heard his sharp intake of breath. “What is it?”

  He stood with something tiny in his fingers. It was a loop of braided dried grass. “I made it for him, years ago. I thought he must have thrown it away. But here it is.” His eyes swam. He started to put the ring on his finger, but the dry grass tore. A sob erupted from his chest.

  She put her hands on his shoulders and drew him to her. “Shh, shh,” she comforted. “He is in your heart, where he will never change, never break, never leave you.”

  Albrecht wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. He nodded and went back to sorting through the clothing in the chest.

  Elisabeth held the tunic to her and took a deep breath. What is this I am feeling? She wondered silently. Why does it feel familiar? I’ve never put Elias’s clothes on before. But I feel like I have always worn clothes like them. It is the gown that feels wrong, like a disguise. I am afraid I will put them on, then never be able to bear taking them off again.

  HANS APPROACHED her the next morning. “My man said you sent him for water last night. I will thank you, my lady, not to compromise my guards in the future.”

  She leveled a considering look on him. “Nothing untoward happened, did it?”

  He smirked. “It did to him. He’s spending the day locked up for punishment.”

  “He told you the truth voluntarily, but you punish him?” she asked incredulously. “You are just teaching your men to keep their mouths shut.”

  Hans scowled but then cast her a speculative look. He stepped forward, first glancing about for witnesses. “I can be taught to keep my mouth shut…,” he suggested.

  She returned his frank look. “You can, can you? And how do I know that?”

  He sighed and stepped back. “Is my word not enough for you?” He could not help smiling as she laughed aloud. “Well, I can’t blame you for your skepticism. What you don’t know is that I detest the bastard—my master, Reinhardt. He is a nasty son of a bitch and passes me over time and again for reward, praise, or elevation. What’s more….” He hesitated. “No, that I won’t tell you.”

  She looked at him, appraising. “You are sincere, aren’t you? Aren’t you afraid I will tell him?”

  The man shrugged. “I hope you won’t. It would get you nothing but scorn from the bastard. And….” He moved near her again. “And I could be a good ally in your household.” He reached to take a lacing at her neckline and twist it around a finger. “No reason the baron gets to be the only one to have some pleasure on the side. Once you are with child, what difference will it make?”

  Elisabeth slapped his hand away. “I thought you did not find me appealing?”

  Hans, who was looking at her flat chest, smiled ruefully. “Tit for tat,” he murmured, chuckling over his own jest. “Let’s just say I want to do to him what he did to me.”

  “A woman?” she asked, suddenly realizing what he implied.

  He stared hard and angry into her face. “Never you mind.”

  Elisabeth stood still for a moment, and then reached to put her hand on his chest. He smiled and put his own hand over hers, rubbing his thumb along its side caressingly. “What if you could get even and get gold at the same time?” she asked him.

  Hans lifted an eyebrow, thrusting up his lower lip as if thinking about her suggestion. “I could have you and gold?” he said skeptically. “If I had enough gold, I would be happy to forego you, my lady.” He looked into her eyes. “How much gold?”

  She knew she had named a good sum when his eyes widened and the pupils dilated. “What am I to do for this gold? And how do I know it even exists?”

  She stepped away from him. “Let me just say that if I cannot produce it for you, you need not do anything.”

  He smiled. “That sounds fair. So what next?” He reached for her.

  She skittered back out of reach. “Just do nothing. I will let you know what I need. It won’t be long.”

  Hans stared at her, his eyes hard. “This better not be a trick. I could do you and that little lover of yours a great deal of harm.”

  She returned his hard gaze. “It is not a trick. You will see.”

  Hans extended a hand as if he was about to touch her face, but the hand detoured to a thin gold chain around her neck. He cupped the opal that hung from it. “Care to offer some surety?”

  Her breath stopped. The pendant was a gift from her father and very precious to her. But it might be the thing that assured her escape. “Y-yes, take it.”

  She put up her hands to undo the clasp behind her neck, but Hans had his hands there first. They lingered. He stroked her neck with his thumbs, and then reached farther to release the necklace. He held it in the palm of one hand and examined it carefully.

  “Nice. Very nice. And there is more, I take it?” His eager eyes lifted to her face.

  “Yes. Even nicer than that bauble.”

  He settled back with his weight on one foot, considering her. “And you are willing to give it all up for that squire?”

  Her lack of response satisfied his curiosity, even if wrongly. “I suppose the baron must not be right about him. I am sorry, my lady, but you do look more like a boy than a girl.”

  “What do you mean? Not right about what?” she demanded.

  “That your leman is a sodomite. My lord does not like sodomites. He decided to let the man leave on his own, but if he finds him here when he returns, he plans to throw him to whichever guards most want to tear him to pieces.” Hans’s lips narrowed in a sneer.

  “Why would he do that?” Elisabeth realized at once she should have played stupid, but it was too late now.

  “I told you. He doesn’t like them. I personally do not mind. Whatever pleasure a man wants—and a woman too—let them. But maybe they get the baron randy and that upsets him.” Hans shrugged. “How long must I wait for these secretive plans of yours to come to fruition? Reinhardt won’t stay away forever, you know.”

  She tried not to let him see her anxiety. “Soon. A few days. No more.”

  Hans grinned. “Good.” He clamped his fingers shut on the treasure in his palm, made a mocking bow, and spun on his heels. She watched him go, praying she had not made a fatal mistake.

  “THE BARON plans to kill you if you are still here when he returns!”

  Albrecht’s face grew deathly pale. “Did Hans tell you that?”

  Elisabeth nodded. “We need to get our plans in
to action. When is the soonest you can leave?”

  “Tonight! I would leave right this minute, but you still want me to get your brother’s armor out of the manor, right? I mean, is that not your desire, my lady?”

  Elisabeth looked into his eyes. “Can you do that tonight? Take it to Magdalena’s and let her know what we plan.”

  “I will. Do you have something I can bribe the lookout with? I think I can get past the rest.”

  “I can give you something,” she said. “But what if you pretend you are loading out your own belongings? If you did that, you could leave in daylight. That would make it look less suspicious.”

  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’s woman. 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-racking 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 hoofbeats or voices. 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 were 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 Hans 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 Magdalena. 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 holding 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. “As you will,” he said. “Is the reward far? You aren’t bringing me out here to an ambush, are you?” She sensed when he stopped in his tracks, as if the thought had just now occurred to him. He eyed the brush around them, and she heard the scrape of metal on wood as he 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 said. “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 looked about to follow, as if thinking she had given him the slip, when she reappeared. Elisabeth carried 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 and 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.”

  Returning his attention to the casket, 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 would not be able to follow the instructions. She was glad, as it happened, 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 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 sec
tion in the back where a tile is loose. Look there to find the gold,’” although it actually said, “to find another sheet of instructions.” This was going to be better than she had hoped. Hans 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 he believed she and Albrecht were heading off for a tryst, so it would not have mattered anyway. “I think you should go back and make haste. What if someone else finds it first?”

  Openmouthed, 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, then turned and soon was out of sight.

  Elisabeth sighed. Magdalena’s cottage was a good half hour’s walk, and she wasted no time making her way there.

  Albrecht had been gone for almost a week before she declared 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 from his own estates 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?