Quest of Hope: A Novel (14 page)

“Then why have y’not taken hold of it? Are you afraid?”

Arnold grumbled. “Methinks it better when there’s two. It may be a demon … a ghost? But methinks we’ve need both go.”

Baldric was anxious. He had suffered nightmares nearly every night for many months in which he saw the face of Paul the dyer staring at him from beneath the waters of the Lahn. And lately he was certain he could hear Hedda’s voice cursing him in the dark. “What of it?” he answered. “The harvest was good this year, the best any can remember. The hex is gone and methinks it best to leave well enough alone.”

“What if it be just a man… a secret lover. Secrets are worth money!”

Baldric shrugged. “I’ll… I’ll go with you this once and well have a look, but I make you no vow. If ‘tis a spirit I come home!”

Arnold laughed. “You’re the biggest man in the whole of the manor and you’d be afraid! We needs be there by matins’ bell.”

It was soon after compline when Baldric ordered his household to bed. He then climbed into his bed where he lay restlessly waiting for the next few hours to pass. In the common room lay Herwin, exhausted and snoring. Along the outer walls slept Heinrich, Axel, and Effi, each burrowed deep into their straw.

But none would sleep long, for Reeve Lenard’s dog was whining again. The village groaned and muttered in the night’s darkness, cursing and wishing the reeve would silence the beast once and for all. Lenard shouted and then could be heard swearing by the darkest places. Within moments the poor beast’s whines turned to yelps.

Heinrich lay in the nightglow of his hovel and wept for the dog. The animal was a clumsy, oafish thing, perhaps a bit stubborn, but sincere and eager. When Baldric had beaten Heinrich at Hallowmas just passed, it was Lenard’s tenderhearted creature that licked the lad’s bleeding face. The boy sat up. For a moment he imagined sneaking over to Lenard’s hut and releasing the dog, and his heart began to race.
But it would be stealing …I’d be a thief!
he worried. He argued with himself.
Aye … but is it better to leave the animal with that madman?

Heinrich was suddenly paralyzed. He had woven a web and ensnared himself, for his conscience had trapped him into inevitable disobedience to
something.
He lay back and stared into the red-hued underside of thatch.

In the bedchamber Baldric was troubled too. He dared not close his eyes for fear of hearing Hedda, yet he could not keep them open for fear of seeing Paul’s ghost. Mercifully, his brother finally entered the hut and strode into his room.

“We’ve needs go,” said Arnold.

Baldric rose quickly and pulled a fur cloak over his shoulders as he stepped past the hearth and out his door. The autumn night was damper than usual, and a heavy fog had settled on the village. “Remember, I’ve only agreed to watch.”

The two walked quietly through the sleeping village, past coughs and snores, a cackle from some fowl, and the soft cries of hungry infants. They approached Emma’s hovel cautiously. It was beyond the end of the path, standing quite alone near the Laubusbach. The moon was new and the mist-shrouded stars barely cast enough silvery light to see the blurred silhouette of the hut and its fences. The men crouched and hurried to the cover of a thick-trunked tree.

For a time, the brothers could hear only the sounds of their own breathing. Then the church bell rang and they jumped with a start. “Ach!” groused Baldric. “Johannes ought let his novice sleep!”

“Shh!” whispered Arnold. “It should appear now.”

He had no sooner uttered the words when heavy padding could be heard approaching Emma’s hut. It sounded like soft leather on matted sod. The two froze and strained to see a shadow moving past the fence. “Baldric,” whispered Arnold, “we needs move closer.”

Baldric swallowed hard; his mouth was dry and his hands trembled. “N-n-not too close. It moves like a spirit.”

Arnold crept from behind his cover, his older brother in tow. They each stayed low to the ground and stepped lightly until Baldric’s heel squashed a walnut. The two froze, certain the ghost had heard the crack. Fearful to move, each held his breath.

The shadow stood still. The path was dead silent. Baldric closed his eyes and fought the urge to run. He was certain Hedda’s awful whispers would break the horrid silence, and he began to sweat. Arnold was now frightened as well. Suddenly, a giant creature crashed through the underbrush behind the startled brothers and roared past them in the mist. The two cried out and fled in terror.

Heinrich lay wide-eyed and trembling as a chilly, breezy dawn welcomed Weyer. It was November the second, All Souls’ Day—the day that warned of the coming Judgment Seat where Christ would judge all souls. The boy was aware he had sinned grievously the previous night, and he wondered how he might construct a confession specific enough for eternal absolution, while vague enough to avoid a beating. He further struggled over what secret penance he might do to secure his temporal forgiveness. Of course, he then wondered if secret penance was penance at all? He had been well instructed on the sufferings of Purgatory, and the lad feared what horrors his unremitted sins might earn him after death. He shuddered and began to sweat.

Reeve Lenard’s voice roared with the first light of dawn. “Where’s my dog? Someone’s cut the rope! We’ve a thief!” The man stormed along the empty footpaths as sleepy villagers poked their heads out-of-doors. “’Ave you scrumped m’dog?” Lenard blustered at one flustered neighbor. “Nay? And what of you?” he shouted as he turned to another.

Heinrich paled in his bed. Effi looked at him, suspiciously. She leaned close to his ear and whispered, “Did you?”

Heinrich opened his mouth, then shut it again. If he told her yes, she’d likely be punished for not telling Baldric. If he told her no, he’d be lying—another sin to be set to his account.

Effi persisted. “Did you loose his dog?”

Heinrich set his jaw and closed his eyes. “Just hush!”

Baldric stormed to the door. “What’s the noise out there?” He turned to the children now sitting straight-backed and fearful against the cold wall. “Something’s afoot! I can smell it. You, Herwin, what’s about?”

Herwin answered slowly as the church bells rang prime. He poked at the hearth coals. “Methinks Lenard’s dog’s been scrumped.” He cast an unwise glance at Heinrich. The glance did not go unnoticed.

Baldric came across the room in two bounding strides and grabbed the boy by the throat. “What can y’tell me of this?”

Terrified, Heinrich fought tears.
Dare I lie?
His mind raced.

“Well, boy? Have y’no tongue?”

“I …well—”

“Mein Gott!
Y’little bastard whelp! Y’son of demons! Thief! If your grandpapa could know this he’d die again.” Baldric lifted Heinrich off the floor and tossed him across the room. He charged at the frightened lad and slapped him about the face and head, screaming oaths and cursing until Herwin grabbed the man’s shoulder. At the touch, Baldric slammed his fist into Herwin’s face, knocking the thin young man backward and onto the floor. Effi cried and bravely stood between her brother and uncle. But, with a quick swat of the back of his huge hand, the little girl went toppling across the room and fell onto little brother Axel cowering against the wall.

Heinrich, now bloodied and shaking, crouched with his arms protecting his head. Baldric grabbed the lad by his hair. “Come with me!” he roared. “We’ve needs see the reeve!”

Heinrich yelped as Baldric dragged him out of the hut and across the footpaths to Lenard’s hovel. When they arrived, Baldric lifted the boy’s face close to his own. “You have shamed me! You have broke the code; you’ve shamed yourself and your kin. You are dung to me now, can y’hear me? Dung!”

Heinrich wanted to vomit. The man’s heated breath was foul and his words were worse. The only comfort the poor boy had was the memory of Lenard’s grateful dog bolting down the village path.

“Lenard! Here’s your thief. Take the little bastard and do as y’will.”

Lenard turned purple with rage. “You? What sort of low and worthless bit of swine
Scheisse
are you? I’ve a mind to beat you senseless, you—”

A tap on the arm from his wife interrupted him. She leaned her face upward and whispered to him. “Aye,” grumbled Lenard. He took Heinrich by an ear and gave it a good twist. The boy howled. “I ought whip where y’stand, thief! Ach, m’Frau says we ought call the priest so’s we not sin in this.” He pointed to the circle of villagers now staring at him. “You … aye, you, fetch Father Johannes. The rest of you take a good look at the village thief! He sneaked into m’house whilst I slept and cut loose m’dog!”

Heinrich was humiliated as the village scoffed and mocked him. Little did he know how grateful many secretly were! A few suddenly accused him of other larcenies and losses, some throwing clumps of mud and small stones at the boy. Heinrich hid his face behind his arms and peeked fearfully between them at the taunting faces until his eyes fell upon good Emma and faithful Ingelbert, brave Richard and little Effi. Each of these pleaded with the others for mercy. At last, they elbowed their way to the lad’s side and stood with Heinrich until Father Johannes arrived with his newly assigned novice, Pious.

The priest huddled with Baldric and Lenard while the hayward dispersed the crowd to the fields. As the men discussed the boy’s fate, Heinrich stared at the novice who was glaring at him suspiciously.
Humph!
thought Heinrich.
He’s certainly a well-fed little priestling!
Indeed, young Pious was ample at the girth, puffed in the cheeks, and stood stoutly upon thick legs that swelled against the straining line of his outgrown robe. He sneered at Heinrich with a pompous pride that chased the shame from the lad and filled him with fury. Heinrich fixed a hard eye on the novice until the cutting words of Father Johannes turned his head.

“Thief!” scolded the priest with a slap across the boy’s head. “Bend your knee and hear me. God’s judgment is upon you this wicked morn. Your name is ‘Scrump Worm’ to your God, to your household, to your village, and to yourself. Dost thou hear me? Scump Worm!

“Yet in your thievery lies an even greater sin, ‘tis pride, the greatest of all sins. In your pride you have claimed the right to steal. In your pride, you have thought yourself above God’s Law. Woe to you, boy. Woe I say!”

The priest drew a deep breath and received an affirming nod from Lenard. He then softened his tone and bent toward the kneeling, stiff-jawed lad. “Though you have brought shame upon us all, your sins can be forgiven and the final purge lessened through your penance.”

Heinrich’s mouth went dry and his breath quickened.

“First, you must confess thy sin to me in the church for absolution by God’s grace. Next, thy good uncle shall pay fair restitution to Lenard for his loss and you shall settle with him for that. Then, hear this: You shall receive eight stripes with a willow wand for your theft. Do you know why eight?”

Heinrich shook his head and fixed his eyes on Emma’s.

“It is the eighth commandment which you have broken first. You have also violated the fifth commandment, so you shall receive five more strikes for dishonoring your uncle.

“Finally, and listen well boy, thy pride must be reckoned. The good monks in Villmar do keep their eyes to the ground lest any think themselves more than they are. Neither shall you seek a lofty vision of thine own, for vainglory is a great tempter and an evil thing. Therefore, I demand, this day, your vow to the Virgin Mother and the host of saints above, that you shall
never
lift your eyes higher than the spires of whatever holy church is in thy view. Do you so vow?”

Heinrich was nervous and confused. A mere boy, he lived in terror of the order around him and the eternal one to come. His eyes were wide and darted to and fro until they fell upon Emma’s once again. The blessed Frau looked at him tenderly and her own eyes begged him to refuse. She then shook her head vigorously. “No Heinrich … no …” she mouthed.

Heinrich hesitated until Baldric slapped him on the side of his face. “Answer the priest, worm!” he boomed. “Take the vow!”

Emma could contain herself no longer. She cried out, “No! ‘Tis an evil, wicked thing they demand of you!” She clenched her fists and turned on the priest with righteous outrage. “Black-heart! Serpent! Do not bind the boy to such a horrid, unholy vow!”

“Silence, woman!” shouted the priest. “How dare you speak! Take her away!”