The Gargoyle

treachery. How quickly one’s perceptions can turn. It was a revelation to understand, in an instant, the wickedness of which Agletrudis was capable. With my disappearance, she would have reassumed her position as heir to the scriptorium. But this was not enough for her. She had to ruin my name forever, and to achieve this she was willing to sacrifice the life’s dream of her mentor.

I’m not proud that I couldn’t stop my fists. My right hand connected with Agletrudis’ shoulder, the first punch I’d ever thrown. I was aiming for her head but I guess my anger affected my aim. The second and third punches were better, despite my pregnant clumsiness, and landed on her jaw and her chest. She fell backwards, though I’m not sure how much from the force of the blows and how much from surprise. When she got up, she smiled a red mess of teeth ringed with blood.

“I will not lower myself to strike a pregnant whore,” Agletrudis said, “but I’ll be sure to pass your regards to Mother Christina.”

There was no point in staying, as we’d never be allowed in the monastery now, and there was still the matter of the trackers hot on our trail. I forced myself to remount and you let me gallop away some of my rage before asking where we were going. I said I didn’t know. You suggested Father Sunder’s cottage. I said he was dead. You asked whether Brother Heinrich were also dead. I didn’t know. You said that we were out of options, and their house was our new destination.

Brother Heinrich was shocked to find us at his entrance after so many years, but he didn’t even hesitate. He only threw the door open as wide as it would go, and I will always remember him for that. You carried Brandeis directly to the small bed that had been yours during your recovery.

Brother Heinrich looked as though life had sucked most of the wind out of his lungs. He was no longer steady on his feet, and he hobbled around to gather water and fresh bedding. He helped us to treat Brandeis, doing his best to hold him down as you rinsed out the wound. When Brandeis stopped struggling, worn through, it was Brother Heinrich-not you or me-who stroked his hair lovingly, though he had never met Brandeis before. When Brandeis finally slipped into uneasy sleep, Brother Heinrich said he would prepare some food. “I have so few visitors, let me invite you…”

I insisted on helping and it amused Brother Heinrich that I could now cook. When he complimented me on my new skill, I finally found the courage to express my condolences on Father Sunder’s death. Brother Heinrich nodded his head as he chopped the vegetables. “He lived a good life and died in his sleep, so there’s nothing to be sorry about. There was a lovely remembrance and all the nuns said that the Devil rejoiced at his death. Not because the Enemy had won a new soul, but because Friedrich would no longer be able to harm Him with his prayers.”

There was a telling quiver to his voice. Friedrich, he had said. Not Brother Sunder, as he had always called him in life. In front of me, at least. He tried to smile but could not quite manage it, and I understood why he looked so old. Brother Heinrich was waiting his turn.

“Did you know that Sister Gertrud also died? Her heart just seemed to give up after…” Heinrich’s voice trailed away. He meant, of course, the burning of her Bible. “Marianne, when the burnt remains were found, Sister Gertrud realized that her Bible would never be completed in her lifetime. It was no secret, the bad blood between you two, but you should know that I never believed you burned it. And neither did Friedrich. He died certain of your innocence.”

At that moment a cramp seized my stomach, and my hands instinctively went to the child. I could not look upon Brother Heinrich’s face, wondering whether he would blame my sin of leaving Engelthal for the situation in which I now found myself. But this is what he said: “Friedrich would have been so pleased that you are with child. He always knew that your love was true.”

Right there in the middle of the kitchen, all the previous weeks caught up with me. Losing the life that you and I had built together in Mainz, discovering that I’d been accused of a horrible crime, and learning of Father Sunder’s death. Agletrudis smiling at the gate, as acting prioress. My pregnancy, which I worried about every moment of every day. I had been running on willpower and nervous energy since we had left Nürnberg, but in that instant all my remaining strength drained out. I broke down completely into the tears that I’d not been allowing myself. I collapsed, my body folding into the old man’s arms.

It was so good to be held again, simply held, and spoken to with kindness. You’d been so busy fighting for our lives, driving the horses forward and planning our next move, that you had no time to spend on calming my emotions. I didn’t blame you, but I missed your kinder attentions. Brother Heinrich stroked my hair, just as he’d done with Brandeis, and he put me into his own bed. He covered me with blankets and told me exactly what I needed to hear: that everything was going to be all right.

A few days passed and we had no choice but to stay right where we were. I hoped that we might have somehow thrown the trackers off, but you assured me that we most definitely had not. You said with absolute certainty that, with one of the trackers now dead, the others were regrouping and trying to figure out what resources we had at our disposal.

We had been cleaning Brandeis’ wound diligently and hoping it would heal, but we were hoping for too much. It became infected and he fell into a terrible fever, becoming delirious. You had seen this before, on the battlefield, and you knew what you had to do. Brother Heinrich held Brandeis’ shoulders and I held his legs, while you used a hunting knife to carve away part of your friend’s thigh. When we finished, our clothes were covered in blood and there was a chunk of flesh in a bucket. When I looked at the damage to Brandeis’ thigh, I primarily felt two emotions: shame at my fear that the wound might somehow infect me and harm the baby, and guilt because the injury existed at all. If I had not hesitated at the inn’s window, Brandeis would have been able to escape ahead of the ax.

It was Brother Heinrich who first noticed the two men on horses. They remained a safe distance from the house, past the ridge that I used to play on as a child, but there was no doubt that they were watching us. They were trackers, of course. When I asked why they didn’t come for us, you said, “They know that we have crossbows and that we can use them, so they’ve sent for reinforcements.”

It was unlikely that they’d figured out your identity yet, as they hadn’t caught a good look at you. Even if they had, they might not have recognized you-not only had you been burned, but also they might not have joined the condotta until after you left it. They couldn’t have known who I was, no matter how long they had been in the troop, but they must have guessed there was a reason we’d stopped running. Did they know about Brandeis’ wounds? Most likely, as they would have seen the bloody snow at the side of the Nürnberg road. Had they guessed at the pregnancy under my winter cloak? Probably not. But for all the questions they must have had about us, I had a bigger question about them: what would happen when the other mercenaries arrived?

We had huge arguments. Brother Heinrich thought he should go out as a man of God in an effort to reason with them. You laughed at this suggestion. Brandeis, in a moment of lucidity, argued that he should face his fate like a man, as this was the only chance they might spare the rest of us. We should flee to reclaim our lives, he argued, while he distracted them by riding in the opposite direction. But of course we couldn’t allow him to commit suicide like that. You wanted to stand and fight, right then and there, but who could fight beside you? Not the pregnant ex-nun. Not Brandeis, in his delirium. Not Heinrich, an old man. So what you really meant was that you should take them on alone. Your reasoning was that if you were able to slay these two soldiers, at least Heinrich and I could escape before the rest arrived. You’d take Brandeis in the opposite direction, whether he was ready or not. This, you stated, was by far the best option. We couldn’t stay and wait for certain death to come to us.

In the end, none of the arguments mattered. When the rest of us were asleep and you were supposed to be keeping watch, you took your crossbow and crept out into the night. We didn’t even know that you had gone until you returned and awoke us.

“They’re dead,” you said. “Dawn is coming and others will arrive soon, so we must be quick.”

I could not contain my shock that you’d killed, any more than I’d been able to when we were fleeing Nürnberg. This time, however, my naivety angered you. “Don’t you understand what will happen if they catch us? They’ll kill Brandeis and me, but they’ll use you as a plaything until you wish that you were dead. Your pregnancy won’t make any difference. They’ll rape you, and if you’re lucky, your life will bleed out before your spirit does. So don’t stand there judging me, thinking I have no regard for life. I’m doing everything I can to preserve ours.”

Finally I accepted that I could no longer both stay with you and protect our child. Our parting was inevitable.