Luther and Katharina (39 page)

“If we try to overpower him, he'll hurt Katharina.”

“But if you bind yourself over to him and allow him to take you to the duke, you'll be burned at the stake by week's end.”

“It doesn't matter.” Desperation clawed at Luther's insides, and he strained every muscle to pull himself up but only made it to his knees.

“Of course it matters. The reforms depend on you.”

Luther looked at his friend's earnest face. “Do the reforms
really
depend on me, Justus? Maybe for too long I've believed that they do. But the truth is, if it is God's reformation of the church, it will succeed with or without the help of Martinus Luther.”

Jonas's forehead furrowed, and Luther could see the turmoil in his friend's eyes and the desire to give a rebuttal. But instead his friend clamped his lips closed, too honest to deny Luther's words.

“God's in control,” Luther continued, “and I'm only the dumb donkey the Almighty has chosen to speak through.” God didn't need him to change hearts. The heavenly Father could use someone else to preach the good news of salvation through faith in Christ.

Luther heaved and finished pulling himself to his feet even though the weight of his arms and legs tried to drag him back down. “Katharina,” he whispered. “My Kate.” Her beautiful face flashed before him, and he remembered the tenderness with which she'd looked at him when she'd come into the infirmary. She'd knelt before him with such openness, such sweetness. And although she hadn't apologized, she'd made a peace offering.

All he'd done was throw it back in her face.

Because he was a coward. He'd been afraid to allow himself to love her. He'd been afraid that if he admitted how much he'd grown to care about her, he'd get hurt in the process. But whether she ever returned his love or not, he had to stop running from his fears. He had to finally admit what Jonas had seen all along—he was in love with Katharina von Bora.

“I love her, Jonas.” The knowledge gathered force and tore at his heart. “May the Lord help me, but I love her.”

“I know.”

Luther put a hand on his chest as if he could block the ache that was pounding like a battering ram. He might as well stop fooling himself into thinking he didn't love her. He certainly hadn't fooled his friends.

Did it really matter if noble blood ran through her veins? What good would it do either of them to let their class differences separate them? Sure, her pride was difficult to bear and often stung him deeply, but maybe he'd been wrong too for harboring resentment toward her. In fact, over the past weeks all he'd managed to do was make himself miserable with his anger and unforgiveness.

He straightened.
O Lord, I'm sorry,
he silently cried out.
Won't You give me another chance?
For a moment strength surged through him, as if God Himself had touched his body and given him a burst of renewed energy. Then dizziness swept over him with a force that left him nauseous. He grabbed the doorframe to keep from sinking back to his knees.

“I won't wait much longer,” Brother Gabriel said through the door. “I know you'll try to stall until you have amassed more men.”

“We're doing everything you asked.” Luther's voice was faint, but the urgency inside him was growing stronger with every passing moment Katharina was in the room with the monk.

He slumped against the door and slid down the length of the smooth planks.
God, help me!
He dragged in a breath and fought to scramble back into the world of the living. He couldn't lose consciousness now. He couldn't leave Katharina at the mercy of his enemies.

“If you don't cooperate, I'll have to give you more incentive.” Brother Gabriel's words registered in Luther's head from a distance. He tried to answer, to yell out that he would do anything, but he could manage nothing more than a hoarse breath.

“I don't want to hurt your wife, Doctor Luther. But you might force me to start cutting her up.”

“No!” A new rush of panic chased the blackness of oblivion to the back of his mind.

“Maybe I'll start with her tongue.”

He heard Katharina cry out, “Please, Brother Gabriel, please let me go.” The terror in her voice shredded his last reserve.

“She has a sharp tongue,” Brother Gabriel continued. “Perhaps you'll think I'm doing you a favor by cutting it out.”

“No!” The word tore from his throat. Luther's mind flashed to the slice Brother Gabriel had made in Katharina's throat. “Justus, I'm breaking down the door.” He banged his fist against the plank. The thud echoed with pathetic feebleness.

“And since you're not cooperating,” Brother Gabriel said with a low, deadly tone, “I'll start cutting now. Except I'll save her tongue for last so that you can hear her scream while I cut off one finger at a time.”

Who was this madman? How could he have lived with the old monk all this time and never known the devil lived inside him? Had Katharina been right? Was he too trusting of his guests?

Katharina's frightened whimper sent chills over his skin. His helplessness, his weakness, the thought of Brother Gabriel sawing off one of her delicate fingers, the torturous pain she would endure…He began to tremble at the horror of the situation.

“Don't just stand there watching me,” he said to Jonas and the others nearby. “Everyone help me.”

He raised his hand and pounded the door again. As though finally understanding the desperateness of their situation, Jonas lowered his shoulder and rammed it into the door. It didn't budge. His friend tried again, this time harder.

“Take me now, Brother Gabriel!” Luther yelled at the door. “Take me now. Tie me up! Cut off my fingers! Do whatever you want with me! Just let Kate go!”

A scream pierced the air. The long, high pitch spoke of agonizing pain. The strength of it slashed through Luther's heart with such swiftness that his pulse slammed to a halt.

“Kate!” he shouted.

Pain radiated through his hand; he could almost feel the knife blade severing his finger. A sob swelled in his chest. “O God, have mercy.”

K
atharina shrank back into the chair as far as she could go.

What was happening?

Brother Gabriel's wide eyes were fixed straight ahead, and his mouth hung open with the remnants of his scream that turned into a long, hoarse gasp. The knife slipped from his grip and clattered to the floor. He tried to take a breath but stopped short and gasped again.

Surprise lit up his eyes. He moved his lips, but all he emitted was a gurgle. He took another step toward her, but then his body jerked. His face contorted into a tight mask. He gurgled another breath, then fell forward.

She sucked in a gasp and braced herself.

His head bounced against her knees, and she was helpless to do anything but watch with revulsion as he slid to the floor in a crumpled heap at her feet. A wet stain formed a widening circle on the back of his habit. And standing in the place where Brother Gabriel had loomed only an instant before was a thin, frail figure.

“Aunt Lena?” Katharina stared at her in surprise.

At the sound of her name, the old woman faltered. For a long moment she looked at Katharina with blank eyes. Then the woman's gaze shifted to her own outstretched hand and the knife she clutched tightly. Blood trickled down the glinting blade, made a bright trail over her pale skin, then dripped to the floor. It was the small dagger she'd brought with her to Wittenberg, the dagger she never let leave her side.

“Aunt Lena, you saved my life.”

The woman didn't say anything. She only stared at the knife with unseeing eyes.

Fear shivered through Katharina. What if Aunt Lena turned the knife on herself?

Katharina strained against the ropes binding her hands behind the chair. If only she was free. “Aunt Lena, look at me.”

The woman didn't move.

“Aunt Lena, it's me, Katharina. Put down the knife.”

The trembling in her aunt's hand was the only sign she'd heard.

“Put down the knife and free me from my restraints.”

The woman's arm shook harder with a force that made her entire body quaver.

“Oh, Aunt Lena.” Longing swelled through Katharina. She wanted this dear woman to come back to her, to come back to the world of the living. “I love you, Aunt Lena. And I need you in my life.”

The older woman let go of the knife. It fell from her hands and hit the floor with a clank. Slowly she shifted to look at Katharina, and this time a pool of tears had settled in her eyes. For the first time in two years—since the night Katharina had climbed out of the abbey window—she found herself gazing into the clear eyes of the woman who had risked everything for her.

“I love you,” Katharina said again through a throat that ached with all the loss and pain they'd experienced. “Thank you for protecting me,” Katharina said, “again.”

Tears spilled onto the woman's gaunt cheeks. She shuffled with stilted steps until she finally stood next to Katharina. She cast a glance at Brother Gabriel's lifeless body before she reached for Katharina's face. Her cold fingers pressed against Katharina's cheeks.

“Oh, Katharina.” The words were only a breathy whisper, but they echoed through Katharina's head as if Aunt Lena had shouted them.

The older woman pulled Katharina's head against her bosom and pressed a kiss there.

A sob swelled from the depths of Katharina's heart. The strain of the past week, nearly losing Doctor Luther, the terror of being with Brother Gabriel, and now the joy of seeing Aunt Lena return from the land of the dead—the emotions spiraled through her and overwhelmed her. She wished she could wrap her arms around her aunt and hug her in return, but her hands were still bound behind the chair, and she couldn't even wipe the tears from her cheeks.

A pounding on the door ricocheted through the room.

Aunt Lena jumped back and began trembling again.

“Katharina?” Doctor Luther's weak voice wavered with desperation. “Katharina, I'm so sorry.”

“It's only Doctor Luther,” Katharina quickly said.

A glazed veil fell over the woman's eyes.

“Don't leave me now, Aunt Lena. Not now that I have you back.” She tugged against the ropes again.

Aunt Lena blinked.

“Open the door for Doctor Luther,” she said. “Please, Aunt Lena.”

Her aunt took a step, then stopped. The dark wells of the woman's eyes reflected a pain so intense that it twisted through Katharina, making her want to cry out at the unfairness of all that had happened to her.

“All I've ever wanted was to keep you safe.” Aunt Lena spoke so softly Katharina could hardly hear her.

Katharina thought of Abbot Baltazar and then of Greta and the countless others who had suffered abuses at the hands of those meant to oversee their souls. Why had God allowed such hurt and heartache to so many others but spared her? “I owe you my life and much, much more. I shall spend the rest of my life repaying you for the kindness you have shown me.”

Katharina suddenly became aware of the noise in the hallway. Another slam against the door caused Aunt Lena to jump. The strength of the pounding splintered the door. It was followed by another slam. In the next instant the planks cracked and crashed into fragments on the floor.

Within seconds the door was unlatched. Men armed with knives and halberds poured into the room. She searched the faces of the students and men of Wittenberg who had come to her aid. Finally, through the crowd she found the face she wanted most to see.

He stumbled into the room, sagging against Jonas, hardly able to stand even with Jonas's full support. His pale face was lined with tension. In the same instant she saw him, his dark eyes locked on hers. The force of his love reached across the room and wrapped around her with a fierceness that left her breathless.

As he hobbled toward her with the help of Jonas, one of the students cut loose her binding and helped her to her feet. She stood with trembling legs and sucked in a lungful of air.

His eyes begged her to forgive him, to come to him, to love him in return.

Her heart swelled with a new joy, the kind that made her chest tighten and her throat ache with the need to cry again. He pushed away from Jonas and stumbled forward a step. But the weakness of his legs didn't hold him, and he crumpled to the ground. Katharina rushed across the room, and when she reached him, she fell to her knees. She didn't care that men milled about them or that a dead body was sprawled on the floor in a pool of blood.

“Kate.” His voice wavered. He grabbed her hands and looked at each of her fingers.

“He didn't have the chance to hurt me. Aunt Lena came to my rescue first.” Katharina cocked her head at Aunt Lena, who hovered nearby.

Luther looked at her. “Thank you.”

Aunt Lena nodded but lowered her head.

“I don't know how I can ever thank you enough.” Luther's gaze then turned back to Katharina. “Because next to the Lord, Katharina is my greatest treasure.”

Gladness flooded her heart, and even amid the tumult, she wanted to throw her arms around Doctor Luther.

He glanced at her neck then and scowled. Tentatively he lifted his fingers to the spot that still stung from Brother Gabriel's slice.

“I don't think it will need sewing.” She touched the line in her neck. “It's not too deep.”

His hand captured hers. He lifted the edge of his robe and gently rubbed the blood off the tips of her fingers. Then he bent his head and pressed his lips into the palm of her hand.

The warmth of his breath and the tenderness of his touch caused the joy in her heart to unfurl.

His kiss lingered in her palm before he finally pulled away and closed her fingers into a fist. He wrapped his hand around hers. “Katharina, I give you now what I should have given you long ago.”

Her breath caught in her chest.

“I solemnly give you all my heart and all my love, from this day forward and forevermore.”

His gaze held hers for an endless moment, radiating a passion she'd seen only when he stood in the pulpit and preached.

“Although I covet your love and hope that one day you can come to care for a poor, old man like me, I don't need your love in return.” His gaze searched her face. “I'll love you regardless—”

She lifted a finger to his lips to stop him. “I think I have cared for you since the day we met.”

His eyes flickered with surprise.

She smiled. “I was a fool to let my pride stand in the way of truly loving you.”

His lips curved into a slow smile. “So what exactly is my dear lord Katharina saying? Is she admitting she was wrong?”

“Maybe she is.” Katharina lifted her chin in mock offense, but her smile widened.

“Then let me hear you say it.”

“Say what?”

“Tell me you were wrong.” His expression danced with all the fullness of life he possessed.

A sudden and overpowering love welled up from deep within.
This
is what she had wanted;
this
is what she had risked everything for. This man…Martin Luther.

“Is her royal highness, the empress Katharina, still too proud to admit anything?” His voice was filled with playfulness.

She reached for his hand and opened it up. “I was wrong.” She bent her head toward his palm and kept her attention focused on him.

His eyes widened, and the playfulness within them faded.

Her lips found the soft center of his hand, and without breaking her gaze, she pressed her mouth against his skin. She tasted the salty dampness of him.

His nostrils flared with desire.

Slowly she raised her head. Then she closed his fingers over the kiss she'd given him. “I solemnly give you all my heart and all my love. From this day forward and forevermore.”