of
the Crusade, never knew of its success.
Elisabeth was sitting in what was now her
solar talking with her steward about mundane matters involving
tenants when a servant came in and bowed to her. "Mistress, the
squire Albrecht would like to speak with you."
"Well, bring him in! He need not stand on
such ceremony!" She sat up straight, smoothed her bodice, and
nodded to the steward. "We will finish later, Martin."
She stood to greet her friend as he came
through the doorway. Her face darkened at the sight of him, thin,
haggard. She came around the table and went to him and took his
hands. His eyes were cast down to the rushes on the floor.
"My lady, I . . . I . . . ," he began.
"Albrecht, my dear, come to the embrasure and
sit with me. I was afraid you had left us."
Sitting hesitantly by her he tried again. "My
lady, I came to bid you farewell-"
She did not let him finish, but interrupted,
"Farewell? Why?"
He looked up at her for the first time, his
eyes full of perplexity. "My lady, I have no place here. The lord
is in the Holy Land and my . . . the young lord . . . I was their
squire. I have no employment here now."
She stared at him, her lips parted. "Oh dear,
I had not thought of that. You have been part of our lives; I was
thinking you would somehow just stay here. That was selfish of me.
You want to be a knight. You can't do that here. Of course you want
to leave."
He hesitated, looked about as if for
guidance, then admitted, "I do not want to leave. This has been my
home, the place where I have been the happiest in my life . . . I
cannot be sure how I can . . . I don't know if I care about being a
knight, not without Elias, the young lord, I mean . . . " His voice
trailed off.
"Then why leave? I don't want you to leave.
There must be something you can do here. I promised my brother I
would look after you. Oh please don't go!" She took his hands in
hers and held tight.
"But, my lady . . . ," he appealed.
"Damn it, Albrecht, stop calling me that. I
am your sister. Stop being so damned servile."
Looking into her flashing eyes, he nodded
silently and glumly. "Thank you, my l . . . Elisabeth."
Woodenly the household returned to normal.
Elisabeth had acted in her mother's stead so long it came to her as
rote. One of her duties, now performed alone, was to greet
visitors. Preferring the comfort of solitude, Elisabeth performed
her duties, bearing with the few who came, mostly travelers, two or
three returning pilgrims, but none as disruptive as the one who
arrived one damp and miserable morning.
Taking her accustomed place on the steps to
the hall after the horn blast augured the approach of a mounted
party, Elisabeth composed herself with dignity. The gate opened and
the first of what sounded like a considerable troop of horses rode
in. Elisabeth did not believe her eyes at first. The banners, the
livery, the face-it was Reinhardt! She thought she might swoon,
though she never had done so in her life. He was alive and back
from the Holy Land. The solace of her solitude was fractured.
Reinhardt rode up to just before where she
stood, her hand to her mouth in surprise. "Happy to see me, my
dear?" he crooned mockingly. He waved off the groom who dragged the
mounting block near, and, throwing one leg up behind him, he deftly
dismounted to stand before her. He slowly drew his leather gloves
off, took one of her hands and kissed it. He looked about. "Where
is everyone?"
Elisabeth could not speak. Gratefully she
heard Albrecht approaching from behind her left shoulder. He spoke
solemnly. "Your Grace, I am sorry to inform you that this lady's
mother and brother have passed on. Lord Sigismund went to the Holy
Land many, many months ago."
Reinhardt stared at the squire. His eyes
shifted back to Elisabeth. "This is true?"
All she could manage was a nod. She saw
Reinhardt take it in, and then was disgusted to notice that a
satisfied look had come across his countenance. She could almost
hear his thoughts. "Mine! Then
the Crusade, never knew of its success.
Elisabeth was sitting in what was now her
solar talking with her steward about mundane matters involving
tenants when a servant came in and bowed to her. "Mistress, the
squire Albrecht would like to speak with you."
"Well, bring him in! He need not stand on
such ceremony!" She sat up straight, smoothed her bodice, and
nodded to the steward. "We will finish later, Martin."
She stood to greet her friend as he came
through the doorway. Her face darkened at the sight of him, thin,
haggard. She came around the table and went to him and took his
hands. His eyes were cast down to the rushes on the floor.
"My lady, I . . . I . . . ," he began.
"Albrecht, my dear, come to the embrasure and
sit with me. I was afraid you had left us."
Sitting hesitantly by her he tried again. "My
lady, I came to bid you farewell-"
She did not let him finish, but interrupted,
"Farewell? Why?"
He looked up at her for the first time, his
eyes full of perplexity. "My lady, I have no place here. The lord
is in the Holy Land and my . . . the young lord . . . I was their
squire. I have no employment here now."
She stared at him, her lips parted. "Oh dear,
I had not thought of that. You have been part of our lives; I was
thinking you would somehow just stay here. That was selfish of me.
You want to be a knight. You can't do that here. Of course you want
to leave."
He hesitated, looked about as if for
guidance, then admitted, "I do not want to leave. This has been my
home, the place where I have been the happiest in my life . . . I
cannot be sure how I can . . . I don't know if I care about being a
knight, not without Elias, the young lord, I mean . . . " His voice
trailed off.
"Then why leave? I don't want you to leave.
There must be something you can do here. I promised my brother I
would look after you. Oh please don't go!" She took his hands in
hers and held tight.
"But, my lady . . . ," he appealed.
"Damn it, Albrecht, stop calling me that. I
am your sister. Stop being so damned servile."
Looking into her flashing eyes, he nodded
silently and glumly. "Thank you, my l . . . Elisabeth."
Woodenly the household returned to normal.
Elisabeth had acted in her mother's stead so long it came to her as
rote. One of her duties, now performed alone, was to greet
visitors. Preferring the comfort of solitude, Elisabeth performed
her duties, bearing with the few who came, mostly travelers, two or
three returning pilgrims, but none as disruptive as the one who
arrived one damp and miserable morning.
Taking her accustomed place on the steps to
the hall after the horn blast augured the approach of a mounted
party, Elisabeth composed herself with dignity. The gate opened and
the first of what sounded like a considerable troop of horses rode
in. Elisabeth did not believe her eyes at first. The banners, the
livery, the face-it was Reinhardt! She thought she might swoon,
though she never had done so in her life. He was alive and back
from the Holy Land. The solace of her solitude was fractured.
Reinhardt rode up to just before where she
stood, her hand to her mouth in surprise. "Happy to see me, my
dear?" he crooned mockingly. He waved off the groom who dragged the
mounting block near, and, throwing one leg up behind him, he deftly
dismounted to stand before her. He slowly drew his leather gloves
off, took one of her hands and kissed it. He looked about. "Where
is everyone?"
Elisabeth could not speak. Gratefully she
heard Albrecht approaching from behind her left shoulder. He spoke
solemnly. "Your Grace, I am sorry to inform you that this lady's
mother and brother have passed on. Lord Sigismund went to the Holy
Land many, many months ago."
Reinhardt stared at the squire. His eyes
shifted back to Elisabeth. "This is true?"
All she could manage was a nod. She saw
Reinhardt take it in, and then was disgusted to notice that a
satisfied look had come across his countenance. She could almost
hear his thoughts. "Mine! Then
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