“And what have we come here for? To accuse them of something?”
“In truth I didn’t want to explain it to you because it’s still mere conjecture, but I suspect that the source of the sickness has been the wheat.” He took some grains from his pocket and handed them to Theresa. “To confirm it, I need to examine the cereal, so my plan is to pretend to be interested in doing business so that owner will give me a sample.”
“You think they’re poisoning the wheat?”
“Not exactly, no. But just in case, you keep your mouth shut.”
At that moment some dogs loitering around the stables started barking as though they were being thrashed, and two men appeared at the door armed with bows.
“What brings you here?” asked the better-dressed one, still aiming an arrow at them. Theresa presumed it was Kohl, and Alcuin was certain of it.
“Good morning,” Alcuin said, waving with both arms to show they were unarmed. “I come to talk business. May we come in? It’s freezing out here.”
The two men lowered their bows.
They were taken into the house rather than the mill, because according to the more modestly dressed man, the mill was cold and—for safety reasons—they did not light fires in the mill. Once inside, Kohl ordered the servant to bring some food. Then he called for his wife, who appeared, running from room to room as though the Devil pursued her. First she brought bread and cheese, then she filled all four cups from a jug of wine.
“Not a drop of water,” boasted Kohl, savoring the rich wine in his mouth. “So tell me—what business do you speak of?”
“From my attire you may have guessed that I come from the abbey.” He took a moment to raise his cup to everyone. “However, I must confess that I do not represent the abbey, but King Charlemagne. You see, the monarch is to visit Fulda soon, in two weeks’ time or less, and I would like to receive him with the greatest reverence. Unfortunately, our grain reserves have been considerably depleted, and what remains is starting to go bad. The chapter is also short of provisions, so I thought that perhaps I could acquire a batch from you. Let’s say… four hundred pecks?”
Kohl choked when he heard the figure, then coughed and poured himself another cup. Four hundred pecks was enough to feed an army. Without a doubt it would be a lucrative deal. “That will cost a large sum of money. I assume you know the cost of grain: three denarii for a peck of rye, two for a peck of barley, and one for oats. If what you need is flour…”
“Obviously, I would prefer it as grain.”
Kohl nodded. It was logical that if the abbey possessed two mills, it would want to save costs by doing its own processing.
“And by when do you need it?”
“As soon as possible. We need time to mill the wheat.”
“Wheat?” Kohl rose in surprise. “As far as I know nobody here mentioned that cereal. I can supply rye, barley, and oats—even spelt, if you want—but the chapter handles the wheat crops. You should know that.”
He did know it. He considered how to respond. “I also know that the abbey sometimes mislays batches that end up on the market,” he answered. Then he reminded him: “Four hundred pecks for sixteen thousand denarii.”
Kohl paced up and down, his eyes fixed on Alcuin. He knew it was risky, but it was precisely by taking risks that he had become wealthy.
“Come back tomorrow and we’ll talk. I have work to do this afternoon and I won’t be able to arrange anything.”
“Can we visit the mill?”
“They’re working in there at present. Perhaps some other time.”
“Excuse me for insisting, but I would like—”
“A mill is a mill. I’ve told you that they’re working.”
“Very well. Until tomorrow, then.”
When they had left the house, Theresa asked him if he had discovered anything, but Alcuin merely grumbled something about his bad luck. As they walked past the stables he told her that he needed to inspect the inside of the mill, but he had not insisted further to avoid arousing suspicion.
“Did you see the horses?” he added. “Six, not counting the ones that pull the cart.”
“And what does that mean?”
“Well, that there are a minimum of six people guarding the mill.”
“Too many?”
“Too many.”
Then he abruptly stopped as if he had remembered something. He retraced his steps back toward the house. Theresa followed. After making sure nobody was looking, he suddenly jumped over the fence and ducked into the stables. Again Theresa did as he did. Walking over to the horses’ saddlebags he rummaged through them, also inspecting the boards of the cart and the straw on the ground. He was on his knees when he called to Theresa. The young woman ran over and pulled out a wax tablet, assuming that he wanted her to write something down, but Alcuin shook his head. “Search the floor for grains like the ones I gave you.”
They rooted through the dung until they heard noises coming from the mill, at which point they stood and hastily made their escape.
When they reached the abbey, their hands and feet were frozen, but in the kitchens they found hot soup, which soon warmed them. They ate quickly because Alcuin wanted to get back to work, but Theresa suggested that they visit Hoos first. The monk agreed, and after clearing their plates they made for the hospital.
At the infirmary they were greeted by the same monk as before. However, his usually cheerful face now bore a concerned expression. “I’m glad you’re here. Did you receive word?”
“Word? Why? What has happened?” asked Alcuin.
“Come in, by God, come in. Two more have come down with the sickness, with the same symptoms.”
“Gangrenous legs?”
“One of them has already started the convulsions.”
The two monks rushed to the room where the infected patients were dying. They were a father and son who worked at the sawmill. Alcuin observed that the father already displayed the telling signs of a black nose and ears. He tried to question them, but all he obtained was incoherent babble. All he could do was prescribe them some purgatives.
“And give them milk mixed with charcoal to drink. As much as they can take,” he instructed.
While the infirmarian prepared the remedies, they went to check on Hoos. However, when they arrived at his room, they found his bed empty. No one present knew where he was either. They looked in the latrines, in the adjoining dining hall, and in the small cloister where the healthier patients went to recover, but he was nowhere. After searching so thoroughly, they had to accept that he had disappeared.
“But it’s not possible,” Theresa complained.
“We’ll find him,” was all Alcuin could say.
He advised the young woman to go home and stay calm. He had to return to the library, but he would issue an order for them to inform her as soon as Hoos appeared. They agreed to meet the next morning at the chapter gates. Theresa thanked him for his concern, but as she turned away, she couldn’t stop the tears from coming.
Theresa spent the rest of the afternoon shut away in the loft so that Helga would not ask her what was wrong. However, just before nightfall she decided to go for a walk around the nearby streets. As she wandered the alleyways she wondered about the meaning of the tightness in her chest. What was the shiver that ran down her spine every time Hoos came to mind? Each morning she could not wait for the moment when she would see him, speak to him, feel his eyes on her. Her tears returned. Why was her life such a punishment? What had she done so that everything she loved ended up disappearing? She walked on aimlessly, trying to guess Hoos’s whereabouts, trying to imagine what might have happened to him. She recalled that on her last visit, Hoos had barely managed a few steps around the cloister, and that was just the day before. He was still so unwell that it seemed impossible that he could have fled.
She kept walking, not realizing that gradually she was straying farther away from the busier streets. It was cold and she closed her cloak around her face,
trying to shield her nose. By the time she registered her surroundings, she found herself in a dark, narrow street that smelled of something rotten. A bark made her jump.
She looked around and saw that most of the houses appeared to be abandoned, as though their owners had changed their minds about living in such a gloomy place and fled without even closing the windows. Frightened, she decided to return home. Walking quickly back, she saw a hooded figure appear at the top of the street. Theresa waited for it to pass, but it did not move. She tried to stay calm, telling herself it was nobody, that nothing would happen to her. She kept walking, but as she approached the cloaked figure, her heart accelerated. Whoever it was remained silent, watching, immobile, like a statue.
Theresa quickened her step and lowered her gaze, but as she reached the hooded figure, it swooped down on her and tried to hold her fast. She wanted to scream but a hand prevented her. All she could do was whimper in terror. In a desperate attempt to escape, she bit the hand that was gagging her. The man screamed and at that moment his voice made her freeze. “Jesus, woman! What are you trying to do? Amputate my hand?” he said, sucking on the wound.
Theresa could not believe his voice. His accent, his intonation… it could only be Hoos. Without giving it a second thought she threw herself into his arms, which received her with tenderness.
Hoos pulled back his hood, revealing a good-humored smile. He stroked her hair and breathed in her perfume. Then he suggested they walk on, for it was not safe where they were.
“But where were you?” the young woman sobbed. “I thought I’d never see you again.”
He told her that he had followed her. He had just fled the abbey because he needed to return immediately to Würzburg.
“If I stay at the hospital, I’ll never make it in time.”
“But you can hardly stand.”
“Which is why I need a horse.”
“You’re crazy. The bandits will kill you. Have you forgotten what they did to you the last time?”
“Forget that. You have to help me.”
“But I don’t know—”
“Listen to me,” he interrupted, “it is vital that I reach Würzburg by next week. I risked my life to save yours, and now I need your help. You have to get hold of a mount for me.”
Theresa could see the desperation in his face.
“All right, but I don’t know anything about horses. I will have to ask Helga.”
“Helga? Who’s that?”
“You don’t remember? The woman who helped us when we arrived in Fulda. I live with her now.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea. Do you not have any money? Althar left you a pouch of coins.”
“But I gave it to Helga that very day, as a down payment for board and lodging. I only have a couple of denarii left.”
“Damn it.” He clenched his teeth.
“I could ask Alcuin. He might help us.”
Hoos gave a start when he heard the friar’s name. “Have you lost your mind? Why do you think I fled the abbey? Don’t trust that man, Theresa. He’s not what he seems.”
“Why do you say that? He’s been so good to us.”
“I can’t explain, but you must trust me. Stay away from that friar.”
Theresa did not know what to say. She believed Hoos, but Alcuin seemed like such a good person.
“So what will we do? Your dagger!” she remembered. “We could try to sell it. I’m sure it will fetch you enough to buy a horse.”
“If only I still had it. Those wretched monks must have stolen it,” he complained. “You don’t know anybody who deals in horses? Someone who would let you borrow a mount?”
Theresa shook her head. She added that it was still too soon for him to ride, because his wound would surely open up. Hoos suddenly stopped in his tracks, trying to catch his breath. He was gasping like an old man, holding the wound on his chest.
“Are you all right?”
“That isn’t important. Damn it! I need a horse,” he cried as he coughed and spluttered. He sat down, dejected, on some firewood. For a moment, Theresa thought his wound would come open.
“Now that I remember,” she said, “this morning I was in a place where they kept horses.” She was not sure why she said it.
Hoos stood and looked at Theresa with tenderness. He took her face in his hands and then, slowly, moved in to kiss her. Theresa thought she would die. Her body trembled when she felt the heat of his mouth. She closed her eyes and surrendered to the honey that flooded her body. Her lips parted timidly, allowing his tongue to caress hers. The she slowly pulled away, looking him in the eyes, her cheeks flushed. She thought his eyes were shining more beautifully than ever.
“And what will become of me when you go?” she said.
Hoos kissed her again, and she forgot her worries as if under a spell.
They set off for Helga’s tavern immediately but stopped on each corner for a quick kiss, as jumpy as thieves who might be caught. Each time they laughed and then continued more quickly. When they reached the tavern they went in the back way so that Helga wouldn’t see them. They climbed up to the loft where Theresa slept, and they kissed again. Hoos caressed her breasts, but she moved away. Theresa brought him something to eat, made him comfortable with a blanket, and told him to wait. If everything went well, she would return in a few hours with a mount.
She knew it was crazy, but she left the house equipped with a candle, a steel, and some dry tinder. She also took some raw meat and a kitchen knife. Then she made for the city walls, not knowing whether the gates would be open or closed. Fortunately, the maintenance work on the southern gate was still under way, so she didn’t need to identify herself when she slipped past a guard, who greeted her half-asleep.
As she walked in the direction of the mill, she remembered Hoos’s lips. She felt again the warmth of his whispers and his breath on her cheeks, and her stomach tightened. She quickened her pace, her path lit up by the moon, and prayed the dogs would not discover her. She hoped the ground meat would keep them occupied while she went to the stables. When she arrived in the vicinity, she could see that there was enough light that she could dispense with the tinder. She looked for the dogs but couldn’t see them. However, as a precaution, she placed half of the meat on the main track and spread the rest around the path leading to the stables.
There were just four horses in the building and they seemed to be asleep. She examined them closely, trying to figure out which would be the best, but she could not decide. Suddenly she heard some barking and her heart began thumping in her chest. She ran to a corner, where she crouched down, covered herself with straw, and waited in terror. A few seconds later the barking stopped.
Suddenly she realized the mistake she was about to make. She wondered what she was doing there. How could she have even considered committing a theft? She decided that, though she wanted to help Hoos, this was not the way. She could not betray her own morals—that was not what her father had taught her. Feeling guilty and miserable, she couldn’t even understand how she had ended up at the mill. She could be caught and accused of theft, a crime that was sometimes punishable by death. She was sorry to disappoint Hoos, but she could not continue. She cried at the foolishness of her behavior, then asked God for forgiveness and prayed to Him for help.
She was scared. Every sound, from a horse snorting to the creaking of timber, made her imagine she would be discovered at any moment. Slowly, she crawled between the horses’ legs, trying to reach the exit. But just as she was about to leave the stables, she was horrified to hear four men approaching the building. The dogs had probably alerted them.
She retraced her steps and buried herself under the straw again just as one of the men walked in and started slapping the backs of the animals, who whinnied with alarm. Theresa watched the hoofs of a horse fly past her face and almost cried out, but managed to contain herself. The man bridled one of them, mounted, and set off toward the scrubland at a gallop. She watched as the other three unl
oaded the cart just outside the stables, carrying its contents into the mill. Theresa thought it odd they appeared to be working at such an unearthly hour and without torches. It occurred to her that the sacks they were unloading had something to do with the grain that Alcuin was investigating.
Her curiosity getting the better of her fear, she took advantage of the men’s absence to inspect the few sacks waiting to be unloaded. Disregarding the consequences, she took her knife and made a cut in the corner nearest to her, then sank her hand into its contents with just enough time to grab a handful of grain and run back to her corner in the stables.
The men soon returned. The first to arrive quickly discovered the torn sack and blamed the other one for the damage. They accused each other and argued until the third one, who seemed like he was the boss, arrived and separated them with a few choice blows. One of the men then left, soon returning with a lit torch, which the boss grasped, casting as soft glow on his red hair. They unloaded the remaining sacks and then set off without going back into the stable.
When she knew she was alone, Theresa ran back down the path, imagining the red-haired man breathing down her neck. She remembered him stabbing his fat opponent in the tavern and she thought that at any moment he would appear from behind a tree to cut her throat. Not even when she was inside the city walls did she feel safe.
She arrived at Helga’s house with her heart in her throat. Entering through the back door, she made sure Helga was still in the tavern and quietly headed to the loft where she found Hoos half-asleep. Seeing her, the young man’s face brightened, but he grimaced when he heard that she had not brought him a horse.
“I tried, I swear,” she lamented.
Hoos cursed through clenched teeth but told Theresa not to worry. The following day he would find a way to escape.
Theresa kissed him on the lips and he returned the gesture. “Wait a moment!” she interrupted. She jumped up and went down to the tavern.
Before long she returned, humming a silly song to herself. She sneaked up to Hoos and kissed him again. A beautiful smile spread across her face. “You have your horse,” she announced.
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