“Natural,” her mother had said, and no doubt she was right. But there was more. Elisabeth could feel it, but she could not put words to her feeling. There was a bond between her brother and Albrecht that went beyond comradeship. She chided herself for her jealousy. She knew perfectly well that she and Elias, as close as they always had been, would someday separate. She would marry the baron or some other man, and Elias would wed and become the Ritter of Winterkirche. Perhaps that was all it was. She was anticipating the separation, especially now that the pilgrimage hastened it.
Try as she might, however, she could not shake the sense that something she could not be part of was developing. She again thought to talk with her mother about it, but an intuition told her this would be a betrayal of the trust she and Elias shared. She was uncertain why that would be, but she was no less sure.
As she watched the boys, Elisabeth started to notice things. Looks. Touches. Intimate smiles. She ventured to tease Elias into explaining. “I swear, Elias, I might think Albrecht is your brother, or maybe more than that.” She meant nothing but to elicit a reaction, and she got it.
Elias’s face went pale and his gaze slid away from hers. “W-what do you mean?”
Startled, Elisabeth laughed. “Oh, nothing. Just that you are so… attached. I begin to wonder if you have forgotten all about me.”
Elias reassured her. “Oh, my dear sister, never fear that. You are my one and only, my twin. No one, not a… friend… or a bride… or anyone else could ever sever our ties.” He put a gentle palm on her cheek and looked tenderly into her face. “Albrecht and I just have so much planning to do.”
Though his tone lacked complete conviction, she smiled her reassurance. “Oh, Elias, I do understand. I think I am just jealous of the excitement. I want to go with you.”
A twinkle in his eye, Elias leaned confidentially to her. “I can tell you, I wish you were too. I don’t want to leave you behind. But that is the way the world works.”
She pouted, making him laugh. “It’s not fair.”
An hour later, she saw Elias and Albrecht together, deep in some private conversation. Elias was speaking, and Albrecht’s face blanched. He looked about furtively, then back, earnestly, at Elias. He seemed to ask something, looking as if he feared the answer. Elias shook his head, causing the squire to look relieved. The two boys glanced about and walked in opposite directions.
Elisabeth needed more than ever to speak to someone. Who was there? A thought came to her: Magdalena, the woman who lived in a hut in the woods. She lived like a nun, though she was of no particular order. Some called her a saint, some a witch, but most simply brought her what they could of their own food and discarded clothing, respecting her wish to be alone.
As she approached the simple hut, no more than rough wood planks with a turf roof, Elisabeth could hear the woman somewhere outside, singing a hymn. There was a drumming sound that she identified as churning. People brought big jugs of milk that Magdalena turned into butter or pot cheese for them, freeing them for other work. Elisabeth hurried forward and around the hut.
“Magdalena!”
The woman looked up from her task. Her clothes were others’ castoffs, often patched and patched again. Her hair was tied up in a cloth, but it need not have been, for she kept it shorn almost to the root. Her smile lit her plain face as she saw Elisabeth. “Elisabeth, how pleasant to see you. Come, sit, and talk to me while I finish the butter.”
This was far from the first visit that Elisabeth had made to the solitary woman. Anchorites were religious men and women who chose to keep to themselves to live in simplicity and prayer. Many walled themselves up in churches and accepted the charity of those who visited and who asked the anchorite for blessings. But not all entombed themselves. Some were little more than hermits, living away from society.
Elisabeth had once asked Magdalena, whom she had found on one of the twins’ meanderings, why she did not like to be around people. Magdalena had chuckled and responded, tousling Elisabeth’s hair, “It is not that I do not want to be with people. It is that I want to be closer to God. Many people can do that in their own hearts. I have not that ability. I find I must have solitude and quiet. That is why I live out here.”
In her child’s mind, Elisabeth found this reasoning quite understandable. She accepted it, as did Elias, and they visited as often as they had things to bring from the manor for the woman hermit and whenever they had questions or troubles they needed answers to.
“I hear that the men of the manor are preparing to go to the Holy Land,” Magdalena stated as she resumed pumping the churn.
Settling on a low stool that sat in the yard, Elisabeth nodded sadly. “Yes, they are. They are going to take back Jerusalem from the heathens.”
Magdalena looked up and sideways. “They are going to war, then.”
Elisabeth nodded.
“Are you afraid for Elias? For your father?”
Elisabeth’s dark eyes were full of regret. “Yes, and Albrecht.” She thought she saw some recognition in Magdalena’s face. “You have met Albrecht, haven’t you?”
“Indeed, I have, a fine young man. Very devoted to your family.”
Elisabeth let her gaze rest on the woman’s face. “He and Elias are… well… very close.”
Magdalena lifted an eyebrow. “Yes, I have seen them together.”
Elisabeth stood and meandered thoughtlessly about the yard, touching a fence post, clothes hung on a line, the windowsill of the hut. “One time…,” she began.
Magdalena stopped churning. She wiped her hands on her makeshift apron and put them on her hips, waiting.
Elisabeth glanced up when she realized she had every bit of Magdalena’s attention. “Oh, I don’t know. I saw something…. It puzzled me.”
The woman sighed. “Come sit with me in the shade. I think we need to talk.”
Elisabeth’s heart beat faster. Was it possible Magdalena could explain the kiss, the looks, and the touches? She hesitated, then followed her over to where a crude bench rested under a linden tree. Magdalena patted the bench beside her, and she obediently sat.
Magdalena put her arm around Elisabeth’s shoulders. “What did you see?”
Taking a very deep breath, Elisabeth whispered, “I saw them… kissing.”
“Each other?”
Glancing sideways into Magdalena‘s face, Elisabeth breathed, “Yes. Like the way they kiss girls. On the lips. And there was more.”
Magdalena was quiet for a moment. “Where were they?”
“Up in the coppice by the waterfall. They did not know I saw them. But when I said something to Elias just this morning, he seemed scared. He talked to Albrecht, and then they both seemed scared.”
Nodding, Magdalena asked, “Have you said anything to your parents?”
Shaking her head, Elisabeth replied, “No. Something told me I shouldn’t.”
A wan smile played on Magdalena’s lips. “That is right. It is something Elias must do himself, but only if and when he chooses.” She paused. “Elisabeth, you must not tell anyone, for Elias’s sake. Few people will understand. They will think vile things. They might want to hurt Elias and Albrecht.”
“Why?” Elisabeth’s voice trembled.
“Elias and Albrecht love each other. Just as your mother and father do. Just as I….” Magdalena’s voice faded out. “Just as I did once. Just as you will love someone someday.”
Elisabeth stared at her. “But they are both boys.”
“That does not matter. Love is love. You do not choose with whom you will share it. Love chooses you… and the other.”
Elisabeth looked down at the ground beside the bench. “But they can’t get married, can they? It would be a sin.”
A small chuckle from Magdalena surprised Elisabeth into looking up at her again. “God did not create sin, my dear,” she said warmly. “Men created sin. They also created the Church to tell people about it, and to punish those who do it.”
“Will Elias
be punished?”
“Heaven forefend, I hope not. That’s why you must not tell anyone. I don’t think Elias need worry. He is of too grand a family. But Albrecht… he is of a lesser noble house, is he not?”
“He is.” Elisabeth pondered. “So it is not a sin for a man to love a man? Like that, I mean?”
“Love, real love, is never sin,” Magdalena stated firmly.
Elisabeth sat silently for a moment, thinking about all the ramifications of what she had just learned. “So Elias could never love a woman?”
Magdalena chided, “Not necessarily. Men… like your brother… sometimes, even often, marry women. They do it for many reasons—because they are expected to, to produce heirs. Because they think they can change, or at least hide, their truer nature. Or they think they will get the woman’s lands and still be able to keep their lover. It is not good to marry someone you don’t love, but it happens all the time.”
“I know. It is going to happen to me.” Elisabeth’s lips twisted in a grimace. “Reinhardt. I will never love him.”
Magdalena squeezed her against her side. “You don’t know that. But I will ask God to look after you and take care of you, no matter what happens.”
“I wish I could go with Elias. To the Holy Land, I mean. Men get to do whatever they want. It’s not fair.”
“Oh, women can do whatever they want. They just usually don’t want to give up what they must for it.”
When Elisabeth looked at Magdalena, the woman was smiling. “What do you mean? I want to go to the Holy Land. But there’s no chance I could go. They wouldn’t let me.”
Magdalena shrugged. “If you really wanted to go, you would find a way. Perhaps you will find a way.” She laughed aloud at Elisabeth’s shocked expression, crinkling her eyes and throwing her head back in merriment. “I wish you could see your face! You would think I just told you to sprout wings and fly.”
Elisabeth’s thoughts were awhirl. She could not slow them down long enough to make sense of them. She took her leave and trudged home with a sigh.
Chapter Two
Husbands and Wives
AS MUCH as Elisabeth dreaded her brother’s departure for the Holy Land, there was an element of relief in knowing she would not have to bear his relationship with Albrecht for much longer. There was a great deal to think about. She so loved and trusted her twin that disapproval was of little import, at least disapproval of what he and Albrecht were doing when they were alone together. Two things troubled her: one, her sense of being irrevocably pushed out of her brother’s heart, and the other, her resentment that he had not shared any of this revelation about his love for Albrecht with her. She struggled with whether she must break through whatever held him back before they left, or let him go and worry about that when he returned.
Then came a greater concern for them all. Her mother did not improve with the passing of the winter, but grew weaker. She seemed to lose her balance. She dropped things. She took to her bed with frequent headaches.
Elisabeth overheard a conversation between her parents where her father earnestly averred to delay his departure or even cancel his plans. Her mother protested vehemently.
“My lord, please do not. ’Tis but a temporary thing. I shall be well again shortly.”
“Nay, my love. I cannot leave you in this state. And what’s more, I cannot leave our daughter to bear you up alone. Do not argue with me, dearest.”
Her mother hesitated, and then Elisabeth heard her concession. “A delay, yes, that is all. You will see that I am right in no time. Then you will be able to catch up with your friends on their way to the Holy Land.”
Elisabeth sighed with relief and went to tell Elias what she had heard.
She was not surprised to see the conflict in his face at the tidings. He chewed his lower lip. “Yes, it is best we delay,” he replied with undisguised regret. She had no trouble interpreting his glance around. “I had better tell Albrecht as well.”
Their household activity multiplied with an unwonted if expected distraction, as if the Lady Adalberta did not already have enough to manage. The sound of horns announced the impending arrival of Reinhardt, Baron von Linkshändig, and his large party of knights and soldiers. As she stood in the courtyard with her parents and brother, Elisabeth, dressed in her best gown, realized how predisposed she was to resenting her intended. That she was about to become the man’s wife was almost out of the range of credibility.
She heard her mother’s groan when, following Reinhardt and his household knights, the horses and foot soldiers continued to stream through the manor gate for what felt like a half hour. Adalberta called to Albrecht to run inside and warn that the household would have to feed and accommodate them all.
Reinhardt reined in his destrier before Elisabeth’s family. He saluted Sigismund and then looked over at the twins. Elisabeth saw him frown as his eyes lit on her. She colored sharply and looked down, avoiding his gaze. Then hope leaped in her heart. Maybe he will decide he doesn’t want me! she rejoiced silently. She felt Elias’s supporting arm around her waist and cast him a grateful look.
Reinhardt did not wait for the groom who pushed forward the mounting block, but threw his leg over the destrier’s armored head and slid to the ground deftly. He was older than Elisabeth remembered and more striking. He stood by his mount for a moment, pushing his mail hood back and off his black hair. Gray eyes did not reflect his courteous smile. He went to Adalberta and took her hand in his to kiss it. He struck his booted heels together and said, “My lady, my thanks for your hospitality.”
“You are most welcome, good sir, at any time. But on this joyous occasion of your wedding to my daughter Elisabeth, it is indeed a pleasure and an honor.” She glanced over and beckoned to Elisabeth. “My dear, come greet your husband to be.”
Elisabeth felt the squeeze Elias gave to her elbow before she stepped away from him to join her parents and the baron. She kept her eyes down, fearing she would be unable to stop herself from bursting into tense laughter. It was all so unreal.
“My lady” came the rich baritone of the man she was to marry. “It is with humble gratitude that I hear you have accepted my offer of matrimony.”
As he lifted her hand to his lips, she looked up, surprised. Accepted his offer? As if she had any real choice. He looked through dark, thin lashes straight into her face. She saw his gaze jump from her own to her mouth, her braids, her throat, her flat bosom. He sighed so quietly, only she heard it. It was not a sigh of pleasure.
“My lord, I welcome you to our home.” Elisabeth found herself thinking, And may you decide to stay in the Holy Land rather than return.
She stole glances at Reinhardt during the evening’s repast, sitting between him and her father. The baron greeted the news that Sigismund would delay his own departure with little grace. “I hope you do not expect me to remain behind while you perform your uxorious duty.”
Sigismund frowned with distaste at the baron’s remark, but he nevertheless reassured him. “My lady assures me that she will be well directly, at which time I will leave. You say you are taking the western pass over the mountains?”
“Yes, to meet with the Frankish contingent. We will pass into the Italian Peninsula nearer Milan.”
“Then perhaps I can use the eastern pass and meet you on the way to Calabria. It is shorter.” He lifted one eyebrow at Reinhardt.
“Perhaps” was the baron’s desultory response.
The two men spoke exclusively of the journey to come. Elias and Albrecht hung on every word they could catch as they waited on the high table at the top of the hall. Reinhardt grimaced at her brother, an act that mystified Elisabeth. It did not seem to her that Elias was doing anything that was not respectful and proper.
“Your son,” Reinhardt addressed her father. “He is coming with you to Palestine?”
“Yes, yes, and the other squire as well. I will knight my son before we leave, of course. He is the elder and well deserves it.”
She
caught the triumphant exchange of smiles between the two boys. Then, glancing over, she saw Reinhardt suppress a frown. “I suppose he will need a squire of his own, then?”
Elias, interrupting the conversation at the high table, said, “No, Father feels Albrecht may serve us both.”
Reinhardt muttered, “Indeed?” but acknowledged it when Sigismund apologized for his overanxious son’s lapse in manners.
“Our needs are not so onerous that the boy cannot take care of both. If it proves unworkable, I am sure there will be plenty of young men of squire’s rank and training that I can take into my employ.”
Reinhardt leveled cold gray eyes on his host. “You would let your son keep your current squire?”
“They are so good together. I should not want to break them apart.”
A soft chuckle from Reinhardt made Elisabeth look at him sharply. He caught her gaze, reached for her hand, and lifted it to his lips. “You are such a loving family, my dear. You should make a most attentive mother.”
Adalberta chimed in, “My daughter is an accomplished needleworker and has all the knowledge and skills she needs to conduct a sound household.”
Elisabeth blushed scarlet and dropped her eyes. To her horror, Reinhardt put his fingertips under her chin and raised her face to his. His thumb came up and brushed her lower lip. If she could have gotten any redder, she would have. “My dear Elisabeth, you are so young, so fresh. By the time we are returned to Bavaria from the Holy Land, laden with plunder, you shall have filled out into your full womanly form. Then you shall come to my castle to be its mistress.”
Her heart sank. He still wanted her, in spite of his obvious disappointment at how she looked. He perhaps believed it was the slender awkwardness of girlhood. Who knew? He could be right. She was not sure whether she wanted him to be.
Adalberta touched her father’s arm. He looked back at her and then seemed to remember something. “My lord, there is one thing my wife and I would like to discuss with you before your wedding.”
Beloved Pilgrim Page 3
