Beloved Pilgrim (2 page)

A shrill blast of a horn made Elisabeth look
up and turned her head toward the manor. Father! It was Father,
back from his journey to see Emperor Henry. She leaped to her feet
and ran nearly to where she had spied on the two squires. Taking
careful steps so as not to surprise the boys, whom she could not
see but could hear giggling, she shouted, "Elias! Father is
home!"

Not waiting for her brother and his friend to
join her, she turned and dashed back toward the walled compound
that was the Knight Sigismund's. Normally she would have made for
an open wicket in the gate, but the two halves of the stout wooden
barrier stood wide open now that the horses and men were trailing
in. She slipped by the last stragglers into the courtyard. It was
indeed her father, just now walking his horse to where grooms stood
ready to take his reins. Mother stood in the doorway to the hall
with her tired smile offered for her beloved husband.

"Papa! Papa!" Elisabeth cried, dashing up to
join Sigismund as, dismounting, he went to his lady and returned
her smile. He turned his head to see Elisabeth's bright face at his
elbow. "Liebchen, darling, look at you. Every time I see you, you
are taller! And prettier!"

He threw one arm around her shoulders and the
other around his wife's. "Where is Elias?" he asked, drawing both
of them up the stone steps to the hall.

"He's coming," his daughter replied, the
excitement of her father's return banishing any other thoughts from
her mind.

Sigismund did not hear her reply, as he was
speaking excitedly to his wife as they entered the high-raftered
room.

"His name is Peter the Hermit, a priest from
Amiens, my dear, and I cannot wait to tell you what he said."

"Child!" It was the serving-woman, Marta, who
appeared and beckoned to Elisabeth. "For shame, to greet your lord
father with your gown all in a mess! Come here!"

Elisabeth stopped and shook her head. "But .
. . ," she protested.

"You have plenty of time to hear your
father's news, whatever it may be. Do you not want to look your
best for him? I mean, look at your mother, so lovely, so groomed.
You look like a cotter's brat."

Letting the woman draw her away, Elisabeth
looked back at her parents. Indeed, Adalberta was lovely. Wan and
sickly as she was, she nevertheless was dressed immaculately and
glowed with pleasure as she went to the table by the fire, her arm
tucked in her husband's.

A movement nearer the door caught the girl's
attention. "Marta, look at Elias. He is all over leaves and sticks
and mud. Why do you not chastise him?"

"He's a boy. He is supposed to roughhouse.
Now come."

Elisabeth sulked. There it was again. How she
wished she were a boy.

Scrubbed, dressed in a more grown-up gown,
her braids brushed and plaited again and coiled on either side of
her head, Elisabeth was finally permitted to join her parents in
the hall. Her sulk disappeared when, seeing her, Sigismund called
out "Darling girl!" He stood and bent, his arms out to enfold her
in his embrace. When she stopped before him, he had to straighten
up. "I said it before. You are getting so tall! Tall as your
brother, I'll warrant. Here, Elias, come stand here by your sister.
Yes, look at this, my wife. They are almost of a height."

The twins stood before their father. Elias
was a respectable height for a boy of fifteen, but Elisabeth,
hardly any shorter, was over-tall for a girl. They could, of
course, not be identical twins, but to look at them you would say
they may as well be. Elias's hair, the exact color as his sister's,
a light brown, was cropped while hers was coiled in braids. Their
dark brown eyes and rich eyelashes were the same. Their noses were
small, too small for a boy, just right for a girl, and both had
high, sculpted cheekbones and large square jaws. Elisabeth saw that
Elias was starting to show some fuzz on his chin, and she was green
with envy.

"Now you two, come sit with your mother and
me. You as well, Albrecht. This concerns you too." Sigismund
returned to his own chair next to Adalberta. The three young people
took seats usually reserved for guests. Elias and Albrecht normally
served at table, being squires, and Elisabeth stood behind her
mother during meals to see to her needs.

"His Holiness has had a plea from the
Byzantine Emperor Alexios," Father was saying. "There have been
attacks on pilgrims to the Holy Land, hundreds killed, hundreds
carried off to the slave markets. The Paynim no longer protect the
pilgrimage routes, but let brigands have a free hand. There are
rumors that some of the Turk leaders are sending their own guards
to attack larger bands of pilgrims."

Adalberta put her hand to her lips, "No, how
horrible. Why?"

The three young people turned their eyes back
to Sigismund in unison.

"Well, there have always been brigands, but
they have attacked randomly. Pilgrim bands that hired armed men to
protect them could turn brigands away. No one really knows why that
has changed, but Peter the Hermit said . . . "

Elias interrupted his father. "Peter the
Hermit?" Elisabeth noted not for the first time how deep his voice
had become.

"A French priest. He is in Cologne to gather
pilgrims for a journey to the Holy Sepulcher in Jerusalem,"
Sigismund said.

"Not much of a hermit, is he?" Elias quipped,
earning a short laugh from his sister and a glare from both
parents.

"Show some respect," Adalberta corrected. "He
is a very holy man."

Sigismund took a gulp of the wine a servant
had brought. His men, having seen to the disposition of their
horses, were wandering into the hall and taking seats or leaning up
against the timber walls to listen to their lord's account of the
hermit's tale.

"He tried to make a pilgrimage to Jerusalem
before, but he was captured by the Seljuk Turks in Anatolia and
tortured."

Adalberta's eyes grew round.

"Why?" asked her daughter.

Sigismund sat forward, shaking his head.
"They are heathens. They are devils. Cruel and rapacious. They are
the enemy of all good Christians."

"But a priest!" his wife cried
unbelieving.

Albrecht shyly spoke up. "Mayhap they are
even more violent with our holy men?"

The knight nodded. "It will seem so,
lad."

Adalberta's eyes were guarded as she asked,
"And this Peter . . . from Amiens, you say? He is gathering a
multitude? To do what, my lord?" she asked.

"To return to the Holy Land and take
Jerusalem back."

"He is gathering an army?" Elias's voice held
a note of excitement. Elisabeth cast an alarmed look in his
direction. Elias had been itching to be in a fight. He had been
disappointed when their father had failed to take him and Albrecht
to Cologne for the meeting with the Emperor's representatives. Both
boys hoped the meeting was to plan war.

"No, not exactly," his father replied, noting
Elias's crestfallen reaction. "He is calling it a People's Crusade.
Just the poor, the destitute who are under the care of Holy Church.
But to hear him speak! It was inspiring. He said, 'Deus lo volt.'
God wills it. We could not help but shout it back to him, every one
of us in the throng."

Elias leaned to Albrecht and whispered, "I
would wager the local bishops would not be sorry to see their
burden thus eased. . . . "

"Elias!" Sigismund's eyes were flaming.
"Enough with your impious comments!" The knight glared at his
chastened son, then slowly turned his face back to his wife.
"Liebchen, I am going."

Adalberta hid her dismay. "I thought you
might," was all she said.

"Then it is not just peasants going?"
Elisabeth asked.

Her father sat up straight, squaring his
shoulders. "They will need protection. Many of the Emperor's
commanders and officers are asking for leave to go with them." He
looked sharply back at his wife. "I shall not go, if you are ill
and need me here." His eyes revealed his reluctance to make such a
promise. In a gentle voice meant only for her ears he added, "But
it is in large part to kneel at the Sepulcher and pray for your
health and long life that I wish to go."

Before the lady could reply, Elias burst out,
"Then Albrecht and I are coming with you?" He beamed at his friend,
who returned the smile, but with anxiety written on his face.

Elisabeth looked from her father to brother
to Albrecht and back again. A glance at her mother's averted face
told her Adalberta would not hold her husband back, no matter her
misgivings. Tentatively the girl inserted, "Mother has been very
weak of late."

"Nonsense, girl. It's just the season. You
know how tired I get in the winter." Adalberta shook her head
almost imperceptibly at her daughter, begging her not to say more.
"It is March. With the spring I will grow strong again."

She continued to watch her mother as the men
talked excitedly of their upcoming adventure.

Elisabeth gazed at her mother. Adalberta del
Luzio of Lombardy had never been strong, and the midwife told her
that giving birth to her twins had weakened her further. The
children, as they grew, were used to a mother who did not stir much
from the manor, staying quiet and taking to her bed often. The
twins were each other's support, as Sigismund was often away in one
of the Holy Roman Emperor's frequent wrangling battles with the
Pope. Elisabeth spent all the time she could with her brother,
playing at boys' games, ultimately begging him to impart all he
learned from his weapons master when they were old enough for Elias
to be trained. Their mother tried to teach the girl the feminine
arts of needlework and to instruct her in seemly comportment, but
the moment the ailing woman took to her chambers, Elisabeth was out
like a shot looking for her twin and diligently mastering every
masculine skill he gained.

They were accustomed to their mother's
retiring life, but Elisabeth thought her mother had become paler of
late. She had frequent debilitating headaches. Her joints were
swollen and tender. During the occasional periods when Sigismund
was not off serving his Emperor, Adalberta masqueraded as best she
could.

Looking at her now, her daughter could see
she was lagging. Adalberta leaned to whisper in her husband's ear.
He looked at her sharply, a smile lifting the corners of his lips.
"Are you sure? Are you well enough?"

Adalberta deftly feigned enthusiasm. "I am,
my lord, and it has been some time."

Sigismund grinned delightedly. To the company
in the hall he proclaimed, "I and my lady are tired and wish to
seek our bed for a nap." He looked down when a few suggestive
comments came from his men. "My love, go on up to our chamber. I
would speak with our daughter." He kissed his wife on the cheek as
she rose and made her way to the stairs.

He watched his wife's retreating figure, then
gestured to his daughter. "My dear, I have some excellent tidings
for you. Come with me."

Elisabeth was already focused on her father,
wondering what it was he had to tell her. Now she stood, exchanged
puzzled looks with her twin brother, and followed their father to
where he stopped near the foot of the stairs Adalberta had mounted.
"Yes, Papa?" she asked.

Sigismund hesitated, unsure how his daughter
would take the news he had brought her. "Liebchen, you are almost
sixteen now, a woman. Your mother and I have neglected plans for
your future."

Elisabeth eyed him warily.

"I have betrothed you to a fine man, a
Freiherr of the Duke of Bavaria, I think you know him."

Elisabeth's face went white. "Oh no, Papa,
please! I do not wish to marry."

Resigned, Sigismund looked sternly into the
girl's eyes. "But you must. Unless of course, you wish to take the
veil. I did not think so," he went on when she recoiled at the
suggestion. "You will need a home and children like any other
woman, and I have chosen a man of noble blood and excellent
reputation who will provide for you and protect you."

Elisabeth stared, unbelieving. "Wh-who?"

"The Baron Reinhardt von Linkshändig. You
remember some years ago when he came here?"

"B-but I thought he was married!" she
stammered.

Sigismund put an arm around her and looked at
the rushes on the floor. "He was. He lost his wife in childbed.
Actually, both of his wives. He is twice a widower." He raised his
head to look compassionately into her eyes. "My darling, he is a
good man, a great knight and loyal subject of the Emperor. He is
going on the pilgrimage with me. Now promise you will think about
this, pray about it, and see the wisdom in it. Your brother will
marry and his wife will not want a spinster sister about. And you
will want a household of your own. You know that's true."

Elisabeth nodded dumbly. "Yes, Papa."

"You will be married before we set out."

To Elisabeth his words sounded like a death
knell.

The household plunged into activity at once.
Despite anxiety for his wife, Sigismund could not hide his
anticipation. Elias and Albrecht did not even try.

Elisabeth found herself left out of the boys'
preparations. She could only stand on the periphery and watch
glumly as the three men in her life spent every waking moment
arranging to leave her behind and to a fate she could not
comprehend. She realized how much more her mother must dread this
parting. Though they had rarely talked, mother to daughter, she
sought her out and confided.

"Mama, how will we bear it?" she sighed while
the two sat together in Adalberta's solar.

The older woman put a comforting hand on her
daughter's supple one. "That is our lot, my dear. Women wait while
men go abroad."

"Men are so selfish!" Elisabeth could not
restrain her outburst.

Her mother shook her head. "Nay, it is not
selfishness. It is duty. Theirs is to obey their masters. Ours is
to obey them."