The Scribe (29 page)

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 unloaded 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.

She told him that, though he may not approve of it, she had asked Helga about the down payment she’d given her for their board and lodgings. She explained that she needed the money, and that if Helga returned a portion of it to her, she would pay her back with interest before February.

“At first she refused, but I reminded her that I have regular work, and I promised that in addition to recouping the loan, she would receive an extra fifth part on top of it. Still, she wanted to know what the devil the money was for.”

Hoos looked at her anxiously, but she put him at ease. She had told Helga that she needed a horse to accompany the friar on his country outings. Hearing that, Helga not only believed her but also recommended a merchant who would give her a good price. In total she had returned fifty denarii, half of her down payment. It would be enough to buy an old nag and enough food for the journey.

“And she didn’t ask why you couldn’t accompany the monk by walking alongside his horse?”

“I told her my ankles hurt. Listen, Hoos, before you go, I would like to ask you for something.”

“Of course, if it’s within my power.”

“In a few days’ time, when you arrive in Würzburg…”

“Yes?”

“The thing is, when you found me at the cabin—I lied to you. I wasn’t just there by chance.”

“Well, don’t worry. If you didn’t want to tell me then, you don’t have to tell me now.”

“I was scared, but now I want to tell you. In Würzburg there was a fire.”

“A fire? Where?”

“It wasn’t my fault, I swear it wasn’t. It was that wretched Korne. He pushed me. The embers flew everywhere, everything caught fire, and…” Tears welled up.

Hoos took her in his arms. “Promise me you will find my father and tell him I’m well. Promise me.”

“Of course. I promise.”

“Tell them I love them, him and Rutgarda. Promise me.”

Hoos stroked her face, and she felt calmer. Suddenly Theresa remembered the parchment that she had found hidden in her father’s bag. For a moment she thought about entrusting it to Hoos to deliver to him, but she decided against it. Perhaps it was a private document and that was why he had hidden it.

“Take me with you,” she asked.

He smiled tenderly at her. “I’ll find your father and tell him not to worry, but you can’t come with me. Remember the bandits.”

“But—”

He stopped her with a kiss.

When the last candle had been blown out, Hoos asked her to come to him. She accepted, not fully knowing why. The young man embraced her tenderly to protect her from the cold, but though they were soon warm, they didn’t want to separate.

Hoos was the attentive man she had always yearned for. His arms held her tightly while he covered her in kisses. He explored her body, traveling undiscovered paths, caressing her slowly and enveloping her in his breath. She let herself become intoxicated, noticing the shameful appetite that burned inside her. She had never felt this way before and couldn’t interpret that bundle of sensations—the struggle between modesty and eagerness, between fear and desire.

“Not yet,” she begged him.

Hoos kept kissing her anyway, exploring her with his lips—caressing her pubis, her belly, her erect nipples. She delighted in his firm arms as he savored the smoothness of her breasts. She
trembled when he parted her legs. As she felt him enter her, her body arched with pain. Even so, desire made her press herself against him as if she wanted to possess him forever. Then she surrendered to his motion and the fire that consumed her.

He kept kissing her as he moved on top of her. He slowly caressed her, relishing being between her legs—and then as he moved faster, she felt such delirious longing, as if the Devil possessed her. Finally, she felt the urgency of his desire release, and she wanted him to stay there, embracing her forever.

“I love you,” he said softly, holding her tightly.

She closed her eyes, yearning for him to tell her a thousand more times.

In the morning, when Hoos said good-bye, all she could hear was that he loved her.

15

Because she did not go to the scriptorium on Sundays, Theresa used the morning to tidy the loft and wash the pots and pans that had accumulated in the kitchen. Still, she decided that after lunch she would go to the abbey and feign an interest in Hoos’s whereabouts, to avoid arousing suspicion. While she cleaned the hostelry she remembered each kiss from the night before. She was imbued with the smell of Hoos, as if she had been rubbed with a cloth soaked in his essence. Hoos Larsson…

Before leaving, he had promised that on his return they would travel together to Aquis-Granum, to make a home for themselves on his land.

She imagined her life on Hoos’s estate, attending to the house during the day and pressing herself against his body each night. For a moment she forgot Helga and Alcuin’s problems, enraptured by the thought of Hoos. She thought of nothing else all morning.

By the time Helga arose, Theresa had already cleaned the same room four times. Helga complained of a burning in her stomach, which she tempered with a gulp of wine—which, in turn, made her retch several times. Her body still reeked of sweaty men, but she didn’t seem to care. She was surprised to find Theresa in the kitchen, for she didn’t remember that it was Sunday. She staggered
over to a washbasin where she wetted her eyes just enough to clear the sleep from them.

“You’re not going to see the monks today?” she said, pouring herself some more wine.

“Sundays are for praying.”

“It must be because they have nothing better to do,” Helga said with envy. “I don’t know what the hell I’m going to make for lunch today.”

She rummaged around the pots and pans until they were as disorderly as they had been before Theresa had tidied them. Then she took out a pan and put all the vegetables she could find in it. She added a piece of fatty salt pork and covered it all with clean water from a large earthenware jar. Then she put it on the heat and added a cow’s tongue.

“Nice and fresh—a customer brought it for me yesterday,” she boasted.

“If you keep fattening me up like this, I’ll end up having to steal your clothes,” Theresa warned her with a smile.

“With how little you eat, girl, it’s a surprise that anyone can see your tits.”

The woman stirred the pot while Theresa went back to tidying the kitchen.

“Anyhow, remember that in my condition I have to look after myself,” the woman added, stroking her stomach.

Theresa smiled. Yet she wondered whether Helga would continue to prostitute herself when her belly was like a full moon.

“How does a woman get pregnant?” she suddenly asked.

“What kind of a stupid question is that?”

“No, you know… what I meant was… well… if doing it the first time.”

Helga looked at her in surprise and then burst out laughing. “It depends how well you got fucked, you little rascal,” and she gave her a loud kiss on the cheek.

Theresa tried to conceal her embarrassment by scrubbing hard at the rust in the kitchen. As she did so, she prayed to God that it wouldn’t happen to her. Fortunately Helga admitted that she was joking and that becoming pregnant depended on several factors aside from the man’s aim. But her explanations did little to put Theresa’s mind at rest. She kept scrubbing so that the exertion would hide the embarrassed redness in her cheeks.

They spoke at length about Hoos. When Helga asked whether she truly loved him, Theresa rebuked her for doubting her feelings. However, without batting an eye the woman kept pressing her about the boy’s family, the wealth he had, and his qualities as a lover. At this point Theresa stopped answering, though a smile betrayed her thoughts.