“She also urged me to go into the town and help once the attack began,” Volmar added. “She was right that they would not attack up the hill, but at the time I wasn’t so sure.”
Everyone nodded with renewed appreciation, and I blushed under this barrage of acknowledgement. “Their surprise at seeing our defenses told me they had not expected resistance,” I said. “So it made sense that they would not have planned a sneak attack from the woods.”
As another toast followed, I noticed Griselda nearby. I excused myself and walked to the servants’ table. Someone moved over to make room, and Griselda beamed at me. “Everybody is talking about you.”
“It was a common effort.”
“Of course.” She paused, eyeing me closely. “What’s wrong? You look downcast. You must be tired.”
“I am.” I nodded. Then I took a breath. “Can we talk? Alone?”
We walked to the porch of the parish church, where we would not be overheard.
“Is something wrong?” Griselda repeated.
I cleared my throat, feeling suddenly weary. “I think you should leave the abbey—when it becomes safe to do so.”
Griselda’s eyes widened, but she said nothing.
“I made inquiries about your family,” I went on. “Your father’s inn has become quite prosperous.” The village was also safe, being located in the opposite direction of where the mercenaries were marauding. “I am sure they will be happy to see you back. You are almost seventeen,” I added, for there was still no response, “and you won’t be able to keep up your disguise much longer.”
I had expected tears, bargaining, perhaps even anger; instead, Griselda’s face paled into a look of resignation. “You are right,” she said finally. “I have been lucky to be able to pass for a boy for so long, but it is bound to end, and then I will be in trouble.”
I was relieved, but the meekness that was so much a part of Griselda’s character made it harder.
She dropped her gaze. For a moment I thought she would cry, but she looked up again, almost serene, although her eyes glistened. “I only wish that I had found a way—”
“It was never going to work like that, but don’t despair,” I said gently. “By putting some distance between yourself and the abbey, you will be able to give it more thought. Who knows, maybe once you return to the world, you will find it more to your liking than before. I know this is what you desire,” I hastened to add, seeing tears well up in her eyes as she shook her head. I put a hand on her shoulder. “Don’t lose hope.”
But in truth, I had no idea how this might be accomplished. I wondered if I should write to my mother to borrow a modest sum for Griselda’s dowry, but with the cost of my sisters’ marriages, that was probably not feasible. As always, thoughts of my mother—though less frequent these days—gave me a pang of longing, and my throat tightened. Blinking to relieve the pressure behind my eyes, I reminded myself that things had a way of working out in the end—my own life was proof of that.
“I will always think of you as a sister, and I will miss you,” I said. “But this is for the best—one day you will see I was right.”
Instead of returning to the table, I went back to the infirmary and climbed the ladder to the roof again. The night, like the day before it, was clear, and the near-full moon cast a silvery glow on the fields, making the woods stand out darkly in the distance.
Listening to the muffled sounds of the celebration still going on below, I shuddered at the thought of the horrors that could have been visited on the town had the mercenaries had better knowledge of our defenses. It had been a hard day. I had seen men killed and had assisted Brother Wigbert as he extracted arrowheads from wounds and used cautery to stop bleeding.
As I reviewed the events in my mind, my sadness deepened at the thought that men would so freely endanger themselves and others for no better reason than greed. And I understood that wars had to be avoided at all costs because it was not the emperor or the pope, not even their fighting men, who paid the highest price, but ordinary folk caught in the middle of conflicts they did not understand and in which they had no stake.
But that was no longer true of me. I had had a taste of power and saw that the life I had been born into gave me an opportunity to act in ways that many others could not. And that realization left me breathless with an expansive feeling of freedom I had never known before.
19
September 1122
The weeks that followed were tense. People were afraid to venture out of the town even to fetch firewood until news arrived in the early autumn that negotiations at Würzburg had forestalled direct confrontation between the rival forces. Armed men had been ordered to stand down, and anyone caught breaking the peace of the land would be punished severely.
Disibodenberg greeted this with relief, but soon another worry emerged, for the skirmishes had ruined fields and delayed harvest in much of the Rhineland. There was a shortage of laborers too, as those who had lost their homes to the pillaging had picked up what belongings they could salvage and left in search of other places to settle. For the abbey, that meant that all the able-bodied residents, except the anchoresses, were needed to help.
Brother Wigbert helped me obtain an assignment at the orchards alongside Volmar, and together we worked briskly in the crisp air of a September morning, shaking the branches to loosen the ripe fruit, then taking turns climbing the ladder to pick off what was left. As we progressed, I could not help but notice how Volmar had
