Abbot Kuno nodded sympathetically, but the look of discomfort did not vanish from his face. “She is still a child, but if she has such an inquiring mind, we should keep an eye on her.”
“That is why I thought that proper monastic education—and not just Jutta’s instruction—would be good for her.”
Kuno sighed like a man out of options. “You may very well be right, but it would be problematic.”
The infirmarian spread his arms in a gesture of defeat. But then the abbot added, dropping his voice although they were alone in the house, “I think, however, that you could borrow books to refresh your memory of natural philosophy.” He raised his eyebrows meaningfully. “As well as of Church Fathers.”
Brother Wigbert understood immediately. As they parted a short time later, Kuno felt it necessary to add, “We must ensure that Hildegard’s questioning does not lead her off the path charted by the Church. I leave it to you to oversee that, Brother.”
That was how I laid my hands on my first library book, a translation of Lucretius’ De rerum natura, in which he wrote that in order to discover truth, one had only to look at the natural world. I chuckled when Brother Wigbert told me how he had interrupted the nap Brother Fulbert was taking at his librarian’s post, for the scriptorium at St. Disibod was a small and quiet place where only two manuscripts were being copied at any one time. Fulbert was therefore quite surprised to see the infirmarian appear before him, and more astonished still to learn that he had decided to reread major Christian texts. But he was also grateful for a relief from the tedium of his function, and he trotted off eagerly to fetch volumes of Ambrosius and Origen. Wigbert had asked for the Lucretius as if it were an afterthought, saying he needed to consult it on a medical matter.
By the end of the winter, I had worked my way through Lucretius, and in the spring, I did away with the strawberry patch to plant more fennel. Brother Wigbert had consented, although we would still be sending a portion of our yield to the kitchen.
Thanks to that arrangement, the mystery of the kitchen boy was finally solved. It happened when Brother Wigbert went to the town to buy ginger and cloves from the spice merchant. He was on his way out when he stopped at the gate. “I forgot to tell you.”
I looked up from the herb bed I was weeding.
“The cook is sending someone to pick up fresh herbs. They ran out of the dry stock and there have been grumblings in the refectory.” Without even realizing it, he patted his prominent stomach. “Would you prepare a few bunches of thyme, rosemary, and marjoram?”
I nodded obediently, although the new crop had only just come up. I was of the opinion that the kitchen should grow its own herbs in the sizable vegetable garden across the abbey. But I picked a few sprigs and took them to the workshop to rinse and tie up.
I was still at work when I heard a knock on the door. Without looking up from the basin, I bid the visitor come in.
“Good day,” I said as the hinges squeaked behind me. “Please, make yourself comfortable. I am almost done.”
“It is good to finally meet you, Sister.”
I was shaking the water off the herbs and paused mid-movement as I realized I had heard that voice before. But I could not place it, so I laid the plants out on the counter and laughed. “I have not taken my vows yet, so you can call me Hildegard.” The words were barely out of my mouth when it hit me like a bolt of lightning. I whirled around so fast I almost lost my balance.
The boy sprang up from the bench, a mix of fear and relief painted all over his face. We gazed at each other for a few heartbeats, then I managed, “It is you! The innkeeper’s daughter!”
She joined her hands together. “Oh, please Sister . . . ah . . . Hildegard, please don’t give me away!” She was taller now, but the deep green eyes were unmistakable. “They all think I’m a boy.”
I could see how—her stocky silhouette and the cropped hair over the heart-shaped face gave her a rather boyish appearance. “But what are you doing here?” I was still incredulous, even though I knew that she was the boy I’d seen enter the abbey on the day Arnwald had been released. “And why are you in disguise?”
“I have always wanted to enter a convent.” There was a pleading note in her voice. “But we are too poor.”
I nodded. I remembered our meeting well.
Griselda continued, “After your visit, I could not think of anything else, so one day when my parents were away, I took my brother’s old clothes, cut my hair, and left.”
“Your parents don’t know where you are?!”
Tears welled in her eyes and slowly rolled down her cheeks. She shook her head.
I patted her hand, too small for a boy, that rested on the rough wood of the table. “It will be fine.” But in truth, I had no idea how this could ever end well; it was only a matter of time before she was discovered. My first shock over, I felt a surge of compassion for this child who had a dream but no way of realizing it.
“I really didn’t mean to go away like that.” Griselda wiped her eyes with the cuffs of her shirt. “But I
