Beloved Pilgrim

by Christopher Hawthorne Moss

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

  “Elisabeth!” Magdalena called.

  “My lady, you made it!” Albrecht echoed. 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 Magdalena took Elisabeth’s arm and led her to the nook 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 her. She went on, “Albrecht, I need to speak with Elisabeth privately.”

  He jumped up, bowed, and made himself scarce.

  Magdalena 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.” Elisabeth’s muscles 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 in what she hoped was a lighter tone. “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….”

  Magdalena 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 that. “Does that mean that Albrecht will change and get married?”

  She felt Magdalena shake 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.

  Elisabeth continued, “Magda, did you love someone once? I mean… before…?”

  With a resigned look, Magdalena 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.” All the years she had told Magda her deepest, most secret thoughts, she had never told her about her conviction that somehow she was a boy, not a girl. As loving and accepting as the anchorite was, Elisabeth did not believe she could be that understanding, so she did not take the risk.

  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 clothes so they would fit his sister, though in fact there had been less need than Elisabeth had anticipated. Harder was how to deal with the armor, something becoming apparent now that she 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.

  Albrecht 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?”

  Albrecht looked at Magdalena. “Do you have any sort of metal cutters?” When she shook her head, he nodded. “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.”
<
br />   Magdalena had shorn Elisabeth’s hair the evening before. She exulted in how cool and free she felt. Now she stood with the mail hood covering what was left. She stood straight, as Albrecht 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’d 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 the helm over Elisabeth’s head again. “It is heavy,” she complained. “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.”

  Elisabeth tried to shrug her shoulders, but the helm weighed 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.”

  Elisabeth gazed at Magdalena. And always was meant to, she thought.

  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.

  Elisabeth could imagine 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 Albrecht, Magdalena said, “Wait here. I have something for you.”

  Albrecht took the minute 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, 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 through 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 on the heavy sword belt. Buckling it, he looked up into her eyes. “You truly are Elias,” he murmured, then 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 said, chuckling. “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 that 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. Albrecht and Elisabeth 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 horses were saddled, and Albrecht mounted on Carlchen. Elisabeth stood fully armored 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.”

  Elisabeth 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 use the wooden bench to mount. Gratefully, she stepped up onto the bench, not without feeling anew the weight of all the armor, and mounted. 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. Tears ran 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 and 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. Every day, it was easier. She felt freer and stronger than she had ever felt.