The Medieval Fairy Tale Collection

by Melanie Dickerson

  “I have a bit in my supplies,” Sir Gerek said. “I need it so that she can have a permanent copy of the alphabet to memorize.”

  After Brother Andrew left, Gerek asked her, “What makes you want to learn to read so badly? Most people never learn.”

  “Do you mean most people of my peasant class? Or most women?”

  He shrugged. “It is only a question. Why do you want to learn? What use will it be to you?”

  He was probably thinking she could have little need for reading. She would probably never even be able to afford a book. “I have a use for it.” But since she had already confessed to him that she liked to make up songs . . . “I wish to write down the words of my songs.”

  “Only the words? There is a way to write music as well as words. Did you not know?”

  “I did not know.” The blood was rising to her cheeks at how ignorant he must think her, but she was glad to know this. Once she learned to read and write, she would also want to learn to read and write music. She had always wanted to learn to play an instrument, but that had seemed an even less likely dream than learning to read.

  The door was darkened again and Brother Andrew stood there, holding out a small square of parchment. “This is a list of the letters in the German language. You may have it if you wish.” And then he was gone again.

  Rapunzel stared down at it. She did not know what any of the letters were, except for the T.

  “I will tell you the sound each letter makes. You will have to memorize them all before you can begin to read.”

  “I can do that. I am very good at memorizing.”

  He told her very quickly what each letter sounded like. When he asked her to tell which ones she remembered, she got almost all of them correct.

  “Very good.” His smug look had disappeared.

  He held up the Bible text and asked her to sound out the first few words.

  “I already know that the first three words are ‘Pavel, an apostle’ because you told me that.” She stared at the words, sounding out each letter. “Puh. Ah. Vuh. Eh. Ll. Pavel. I did it! I see how it works now.” Rapunzel did the same with the next two words and was able to sound them out and see how the letters made the words. Then she tried the fourth word. Sir Gerek had to help her with that one since she had already forgotten some of the letters’ sounds. Finally, she sounded it out. “Uh. Vuh. Of. Yuh. Eh. Ss. Oo. Ss. ‘Jesus.’ I did it. ‘Pavel, an apostle of Jesus!’ ”

  “Keep reading.”

  With help from Sir Gerek, Rapunzel read the next word and the next. Finally, she had read the entire first sentence. “ ‘Pavel, an apostle of Jesus Christ by the command of God our Savior and of Christ Jesus our hope, To Timotheus my true son in the faith: Grace, mercy, and peace from God the Father and Christ Jesus our Lord.’ ”

  “What does it mean?”

  “It’s a greeting, from a letter. Pavel is greeting his friend Timotheus.”

  “Oh. I’ve never had a letter. Is this how people greet someone in a letter, by telling their name?”

  “Usually they greet the person they are writing first, and then at the end they write their own name. I suppose letters were written differently in those days, with the writer introducing himself first.”

  How exciting! If she received a letter, she might actually be able to read it. Of course, who would write one to her? Her mother had never learned to read. But now that she could read, what would she read? She had no books, nothing with words written on it. She would worry about that later.

  “Oh.” How long had she been sitting with Sir Gerek? Rapunzel jumped up, knocking over the stool. “I mustn’t be late. Mother might not let me come back.” She put the stool back where she had gotten it. “Fare well, Sir Gerek!” she called and ran out the door.

  Chapter Nine

  Mother brought back some bread, some oats for the pottage, and a few other things they needed. She had also found some pregnant women who might be interested in her services.

  “Did you find the person you were looking for?” Rapunzel asked her. “The one who was coming back from England?”

  Mother concentrated on putting the leftover oats away. “No, he is not in Hagenheim yet. What have you been doing while I was gone, Rapunzel? I thought you were going to paint some of your pretty flowers and vines and birds on the walls today?”

  “I suppose I was . . . thinking of other things.” Rapunzel hated deceiving Mother, but it seemed the only way she would be able to take reading lessons.

  “Making up a new song?” She patted Rapunzel’s cheek. “I don’t know how you think of them.”

  Rapunzel shrugged and smiled. “I don’t know either.”

  Together they made a plum pie and some fried pork. “Meat is as plentiful as ever in Hagenheim,” Mother said. “The butchers sell everything here—pork, goose, pheasant, chicken, and even some beef. Are you pleased we came here, Rapunzel?”

  “Yes, of course, Mother. Are you pleased?”

  “Not missing your old friends in Ottelfelt, are you?”

  “No.” Rapunzel sighed. “I don’t think I was ever friends with anyone the way other people are. Most of the other girls my age thought my paintings and songs were strange. They thought I was strange.”

  “They were just jealous. Forget about them.”

  That was Mother’s solution to everything—to forget about it. Perhaps it was better to put out of her mind anything that bothered her, but she was more likely to brood about it, to consider how she could make it better, how she could change it, or how it might affect her in the future. She kept thinking that if the villagers had thought she was strange—and they often spoke of how strange they thought Mother was—then wouldn’t the people of Hagenheim think them both strange as well? Not that she cared what most people thought, but it would be nice to have at least one friend, someone to talk to and confide in.

  Her mother would just say, “You have me. Why do you need friends?” But she didn’t always want to tell her mother everything. At the moment, she had to keep her reading lessons a secret. If Mother found out she was seeing Sir Gerek, spending time alone with him . . . it was too terrible to contemplate, after all the times her mother had warned her of what men would do to her if she was ever alone with them. It would not matter that Sir Gerek had one broken arm and one broken leg. He still would not seem safe to Mother.

  Mother just didn’t understand what it was like to be young and to want to do things, to learn things, to meet new people. Mother was content to speak only with Rapunzel, to be always with her.

  What if she never did make a close friend? Was she destined to be alone with her mother until one of them died? To never marry or have children?

  At least she had her reading lessons. Learning to read felt like the greatest thing that had ever happened to her. It was the greatest thing that had ever happened. Now she could write down her songs on paper and keep them forever. Learning to read would prove that she was just as worthy as any lord’s son or daughter. She could prove she was just as significant, just as intelligent, just as worthy of love and acceptance as anyone else.

  Besides, who knew what learning to read could lead to? She might even get some kind of occupation in town with her new skill.

  How strange that it was Sir Gerek who was teaching her—against his will, she ought to remember. She really owed more gratitude to Brother Andrew for giving her a job cleaning at the monastery and for forcing Sir Gerek to teach her. And why shouldn’t he? He should want to help her since she saved his life from that evil brigand. She sighed.

  “Rapunzel? Didn’t you hear me? I said the pottage is burning. Take it off the fire.”

  “Sorry, Mother. I must have been thinking.”

  “You think too much, my dear. Thinking only makes one sad.”

  “Not if one is thinking joyous thoughts.”

  “What joyous thoughts are you thinking?” Mother gave her an intense stare.

  Rapunzel shrugged. “Me? I’m only thinking . . . abou
t Hagenheim. Perhaps I will get my first glimpse of it soon. I’ve never seen a walled city before.”

  “I shall take you tomorrow if you like.”

  “Oh, I’m in no hurry. Now that we live here, I can see it anytime.”

  Mother gave her a suspicious glance before continuing to slice the bread for their meal. “I hope you are not thinking about that boorish knight we met on the road to Hagenheim.”

  “I wouldn’t call him boorish.” He was a little rude and arrogant, but after all, he was a noble knight. She supposed he had a reason to be arrogant. “No, of course I’m not thinking of him, Mother. But he did save us from those robbers.”

  “And then you saved him from his own prisoner who was about to kill him. If he hadn’t been so careless as to let his prisoner get loose and steal his own knife, you wouldn’t have had to save him.”

  “He wasn’t careless. It was not his fault his horse fell on him.”

  “I say it was. He should have better control over his horse or get a new one.”

  It was impossible to win an argument with Mother, so Rapunzel said nothing more.

  Later, while they ate their meal of pottage and bread and plum pie, Rapunzel asked, “Have you seen any of your old friends since we came back? Any people you know? You must know a lot of people since you grew up here.”

  “There is no one here I care to speak to.”

  “Do you have any relatives—cousins or aunts or anything?”

  “Your great-grandmother did not like any of her living relatives, so we never saw them. ‘They are all cruel and deceitful,’ Grandmother would say. She said they would only hurt us, so we stayed away. I never met any of them.” She smiled. “I’m sure it was for the best.”

  “Perhaps, but sometimes I wish we had some family, people we could talk to.” People I belong with. People who would love me.

  “You mustn’t be discontent, my darling.” Mother’s face and eyes were cold. “You have everything you need. At least you aren’t an orphan, without a mother to take care of you.”

  It was at the forefront of Rapunzel’s thoughts to say that she was nineteen years old. She was too old to need a mother to care for her. But she knew from experience how angry that would make Mother.

  “Tomorrow I will be going to Hagenheim to speak to more people about my midwifery skills. You may come with me if you wish.”

  “Thank you, Mother. I may. Or I may stay home and work on a new song.”

  “As you wish, darling.”

  At least Rapunzel had her next reading lesson to look forward to. The thought of unlocking the secrets of an entire book made her giddy and light-headed. She didn’t want her mother to see. “I’m going outside for a few minutes.”

  “Very well, darling, but don’t stay out after dark.”

  “Yes, Mother.”

  The next day Rapunzel hurried through the thickly wooded area and a small sheep pasture to the monastery that lay beyond. She had the small piece of parchment in her pocket with all the letters written on it. It was her most prized possession. She patted her pocket as she made her way toward the pale stone walls of the monastery buildings. She could see the garden, half hidden from view, and someone bending over, working in the soil.

  When she reached Sir Gerek’s door, she remembered his command that she knock and wait to be invited in. She huffed but knocked, then waited. After all, she had no desire to see Sir Gerek in any state of undress.

  “Come in.”

  Rapunzel opened the wooden door. Sir Gerek was sitting up, a book across his lap. His arm was still bundled awkwardly and resting by his side and his leg equally big and awkward in its splint.

  He looked up at her with a half scowl. “Back so soon? I would not have thought your mother would allow it.”

  Rapunzel bit her lip to keep from retorting something she might regret. Why did he have to spoil her mood? “Yes, I am back. But I need you to refresh my memory of some of these letters, please.” She sat primly on the stool beside him and held out the list of letters.

  They went over the letters two more times, until Rapunzel was certain she would not forget them again. Then Sir Gerek turned back to the passage they had been reading the day before. He allowed her to sound out some more words, and this time she read several sentences aloud.

  “I would like to read the New Testament and the Old Testament.”

  “You’ll have to learn Latin. The portions of the Old Testament that I own are in Latin.”

  The smug look on his face made her long to say something that would erase it. “You’ll just have to teach me, then.”

  That did it.

  “I was only asked to teach you to read German, not Latin.” The scowl on his face did not frighten her, but why was he always so grumpy?

  “Very well, we shan’t discuss it now.” She might as well not argue with him. She could take up the Latin cause later.

  She went back to reading the text in the enormous book, which was so large it lay across both their laps so they each could see the words.

  Her reading sounded halting and broken and slow, and she sometimes had to reread passages to understand the meaning. But she kept going and finally came to this passage: “ ‘I urge, then, first of all, that petitions, prayers, intercession and thanksgiving be made for all people—for kings and all those in authority, that we may live peaceful and quiet lives in all godliness and holiness. This is good, and pleases God our Savior, who wants all people to be saved and to come to a knowledge of the truth.’ ”

  What a freeing thought—that, perhaps, she didn’t have to do great exploits for God, didn’t have go on long, painful pilgrimages or suffer in some way.

  “Is that all we have to do to please God? Only to pray for all people and to live a peaceful life in godliness and holiness?”

  Sir Gerek quirked one brow up. “Jesus said the greatest commandment is to love God with all your heart, and the second greatest is to love your neighbor as yourself.”

  Rapunzel had heard a traveling friar teach that several years before. She eyed Sir Gerek from a new angle. Perhaps, behind his arrogance, he was not so terrible. He was only a man, after all, and she should not expect him to be perfect in temperament as well as principles. Though he had seemed perfect, in a physical sense, the first time she saw him—strong in body, handsome of face, and mighty in a fight—his arm and leg had been broken by a simple accident on horseback. Now he lay fairly helpless on the bed, barely able to stand on his own.

  But he was rude, arrogant, and grumpy. Why should she overlook those things? Perhaps because of what Pavel said, she should pray for Sir Gerek.

  She still didn’t like Sir Gerek very much, but she did need him to teach her to read and to allow her to read his books since she had none of her own. Perhaps he needed her too.

  “Does anyone besides me come to talk to you every day? I would think you would be grateful for the opportunity to teach me, to break the monotony of your routine.”

  “Read on, if you please,” he said with a frown.

  “You are going to give yourself wrinkles with all that frowning. You’re only, what, twenty-five?”

  “Twenty-four.”

  “And are you now growing a beard?” The stubble on his chin, jaw, and above his lip had grown quite thick since she first saw him.

  “I think I will. It makes me rather more intimidating, don’t you think?” He rubbed his whiskered jaw.

  “Frightening, you mean? Yes, rather like a bear or a wolf.”

  His expression, lowered brows and curling lip, caused a laugh to bubble up in her throat. Rapunzel covered her mouth with her hand.

  “I’ll have you know, when I traveled with Duke Wilhelm’s eldest son, Valten, to all the best tournaments, ladies often told me how handsome I was.”

  “Women are notoriously poor judges of character.” She wasn’t sure why she said that, except that she wanted to aggravate him.

  “What does character have to do with being handsome?”

&
nbsp; “Exactly.”

  He eyed her askance, out of the corner of his eye, then took a slow breath. “Are you going to read, or are we going to keep talking until your mother gets home?”

  Rapunzel cleared her throat and kept reading. The second and third chapters were short, and it ended with what seemed like verses from a song:

  “ ‘He appeared in the flesh,

  was vindicated by the Spirit,

  was seen by angels,

  was preached among the nations,

  was believed on in the world,

  was taken up in glory.’ ”

  She especially liked that part. Perhaps she might memorize it or think of some tune to go along with it.

  “Tired of reading?”

  “Just a moment.” She read it through again in a whisper this time. Then she turned and looked at the first chapter again.

  “What is this ‘law’ he keeps talking about?”

  “The Jewish law, of course.”

  Rapunzel raised her brows at him.

  “The rules that the Jewish people followed, the law of Moses, keeping the Sabbath day holy, tithing all of their crops, all those sorts of laws.”

  “Oh.” She remembered a question she had had for a long time now. “A friar once came to my village, and he said that we are all equal because we are Christians. You are a noble-born knight, I am a peasant, and Andrew is a monk, but we are all the same to God. Is this true? Is that what the Bible says?”

  Sir Gerek scowled. “Are you sure you are not staying too long again?”

  “Very well.” She closed the book and pushed it onto his lap. “Is there anything you need before I go?”

  “No, thank you.”

  She nodded primly. Just as she reached the door, she glanced back at him. “But I shall return very soon.”

  Chapter Ten

  Rapunzel accompanied her mother the next day to Hagenheim. Her mother was beginning to seem suspicious of why she was not eager to see the largest town Rapunzel had ever been near. So she and Mother set out for the town market.