The Seer and the Scribe (30 page)

“Volmar.” He recognized this voice instantly. Hildegard reached out in the darkness for his hand.

Volmar stooped to kiss the hand he held so warmly and brought it to his cheek. Then he cupped her small chin in his hands and lifted her face towards his. “I thought I would never see you again,” he said, his voice hoarse with emotion.

“No, Volmar, we mustn't,” Hildegard whispered, her eyes clearly wanting what her voice forbade. She put her finger to his lips. “Please.”

Volmar sat back on his heels and was silent, waiting for his heart to stop racing. At last, he spoke. “I've been searching all over for you. Hiltrud told me of your nightly visits to the Infirmary. Hildegard,” he said earnestly, “if ever you need anything, if Jutta falls ill again, please send for me first.”

“I will tell you next time,” Hildegard said plaintively. She paused and reflected. She was grateful that she had someone she could confess her sins to. Holding her silence was one of the hardest things she had ever done.

“Abbot Burchard is correct. Matthias was murdered, but the murderer, I'm certain, is not human.”

“Not human? How can that be? Sister Hildegard, please trust me as I have trusted you. Last night you saw something on your way back from the Infirmary. Please tell me what happened.”

“When I left the Infirmary and had just turned the corner passing outside the entrance to the stables, I overheard two men in a heated disagreement. It was dark. I could not see the men's faces, but I could hear them speak. One man was telling the other man details concerning Blessed Gerard's master plan. Apparently Brother Gerard is ambitious and wants to leave Palestine to create a new order of the Knights Hospitaller on the island of Malta.”

“Did you hear any names?”

“No, but the man who spat on the ground and whom I took to be Matthias wanted to leave. From what I could understand, Blessed Gerard wants very much to acquire all that he can both in land and Holy Relics of great spiritual value. Acquiring the Spear of Longinus would be the highlight of his career.”

Volmar's voice shook. “So the church is involved, as I feared.”

“It is more than that, Brother Volmar. I do not understand such struggles within the church. Why has neither man obeyed the Rule of Saint Benedict, to disavow oneself from the petty allure of power and greed.”

“None of this surprises me. Political posturing in the church has weakened our spiritual message in the eyes of man and surely in the eyes of God. This is the very thing Matthias tried to warn us about. What happened next?”

“It is of considerable significance that the island of Malta is shaped like a spearhead, for the man who supported Brother Gerard said that the Spear of Longinus is destined to reside there permanently in the care of a few select Holy Brothers of the Knights Hospitaller of Saint John. It is there where this secret brotherhood plans to train young knights to rule the world. And both of them have been counted among the chosen ones. Malta, he said, is destined to become the ladder to Heaven, the new center of the world, the gateway to the ethereal realm of the immortals under the Pope's blessing. He went on to assure Matthias that work on an underground city has already begun as planned.”

“An underground city?”

“Yes. Those were the words he used, and its entrance is to be across from the Grandmaster's Palace. He also reminded Matthias that St. Paul himself was shipwrecked on this island, so it is only fitting that the spearhead should be venerated on an island which saved the great saint's life.”

“How could the Pope condone such corruption and greed?”

“My sentiments exactly. I believe Matthias at this point scoffed, saying how he never regretted leaving Brother Gerard's inner circle and renouncing all ties with the order and its insidious plans to rule the world. He had given all the years he cared to give to their heretical cause, insisting that he was going home and asking the other man to step aside and let him pass. The other one laughed out loud, a cruel, heartless laugh. He said he would gladly let him pass if Matthias gave him the Holy Relic. Only then could he live to see his family again. Matthias told him he was a fool, for he no longer possessed the relic.”

“So, Matthias tried to leave last night and ran into one of the two Knights Hospitaller. Well, we know Matthias told this man the truth, he no longer had the Relic in his possession.”

“There's more. The next part of the conversation was very strange indeed. The other man said a prayer for Matthias. He then gave him a kiss on both cheeks and simply stepped aside, allowing Matthias to enter the stable. Matthias entered alone. The other man waited outside for only a moment, then left, disappearing into the woods behind the stable. I heard horses then and feared I would be seen if I tried to cross the path towards the Anchorage. So I came here instead. It is a safe place to hide, to observe, and not to be seen.”

“So you were here when Brother Hugo announced the death of Matthias?”

“Yes. But what I do not understand is Rudegerus's part in all of this. I fear all of this is only the beginning of the answer to this mystery.”

Volmar's brow furrowed. “And now, the hooded hunchback wrongly accused Rudegerus of possessing the relic. We know differently. However, Rudegerus is not an innocent bystander. He has had some association with this man and is frightened of this man's malice.”

“Brother Rudegerus's fear is more than the grave. It is as if his life is a lie that is unraveling. I think, Volmar, Rudegerus fears more the humiliation of the retelling of his past deceptions.”

“Could Rudegerus have murdered Matthias for this old man? Could he have been the one to commit such a crime in cold blood, at such an hour?”

“I think not. Granted, nothing gives a fearful man more courage than the fear of another. No, whoever is committing this crime lives in a world of his own making, where there are no absolute truths. When you think about it, the mind is such a paradox. You can think your way into a corner and never figure out how you got there. The heart, however, isn't so indecisive. Either you love someone or you do not; you don't entertain a half-baked, partial, sometimes, maybe attitude about love, respect, appreciation, gratitude, warmth, forgiveness, or any other qualities this person has chosen to ignore and belittle as well. The person we are searching for trivializes the most important things in life, Brother Volmar, while maximizing the least. This is his nature and his personality, formed long before he arrived here to Disibodenberg.”

“Sister Hildegard, you mentioned earlier that what killed Matthias was not human. Why would you say such a thing?”

“I do not know. At the time, I heard a noise, a sound I could not place. It is also a feeling I have, which I cannot fully explain. Only after I heard of Matthias's hanging did it make more sense.”

“You are musical, so your ears are more sensitive to sounds than perhaps my own. Think: Are you certain it was not voices inside the stable you heard?”

“I am sure. I heard something inhuman. I am sorry. I didn't think at the time that the man was letting Matthias leave, knowing he was walking into a trap. And the hooded hunchback we just witnessed, the one who wants the Holy Relic by Prime, he has the same laugh as the man confronting Matthias outside the stables.”

“I've heard it before as well. The man's name is Ulrich.”

“Oh, Brother Volmar, what are we going to do?” Hildegard reached out again for Volmar's hand and squeezed it. “I remember watching how snowflakes seemed to fall away from him, almost as if they knew of the evil that emanated from him.”

Volmar took her hand and stared down at it, so small in his. “Are you cold?”

“No—why do you ask?” She looked across at Volmar.

“Your hand is trembling.” Gently he kissed each fingertip. How could he repress such strong feelings, they stirred in him a desire beyond words, beyond vows, beyond the physical confines of his soul. He had lived in books so long that having his spirit leap beyond its boundaries moved him deeply. He drew Sister Hildegard towards him as he was willing this moment to stand still in time.

Hildegard regarded him with a faint smile but held back, her face full of a pale and gentle transcendence.

“I feel like a man compelled by an addiction. I cannot get you out of my mind.” Volmar knew she was looking directly at him and through him with that uncanny ability of hers to read his thoughts.

“We've taken vows, Volmar,” Hildegard whispered, studying him, unable to find the words to express all that she was feeling. For the first time in her life, she questioned her decision to deny herself the affections of a flesh and blood man. She was shivering and longed for his warm embrace. Could she set aside her promised vows and the strict dictates of the church for one man's love?

At long last, Volmar began, slowly at first, and then, fighting hard to keep his voice from cracking, he said, “Pray for me, for I am shaken by my shortcomings.”

“You are like a dark cloud next to the sun. There's a ring around the iris of your blue eyes. They are fiery eyes, clever, hot-tempered, energetic, and keen-minded.”

“I am but a man with a man's desire,” he countered, clearly flustered. “I may be mad, for given the way that I feel I'm not entirely confident of my hold on reality. Would we truly be causing a violation in the order of things to give in to these feelings? Is what I'm feeling towards you so unnatural that it should be considered a sin? Why must our faith deny our life? Feelings are never as black and white as the constructs of our religious order dictate.”

“With God's help,” Hildegard said, pressing her forefinger to his lips to quiet him. “I will pray for both of us that this love we share be always expressed as charity and true kindness to one another.” She tenderly touched his cheek. “My beloved brother in Christ, you and I are two halves of one whole, called upon to dwell together in a sanctified unity of mind, not body. Spiritual love will help us aspire toward our Creator. Through our ascent, we will glimpse a higher, more perfect love which is free from the bonds of fleshly passions and more perfect in His eyes. You will see . . . I will make you see . . .”

Volmar both envied and despised Hildegard's certainty at the same time. How could she be led by a perfect clarity and he be so consumed by ambiguousness? He coughed nervously, regaining his composure. “I will need to escort you safely back to the Anchorage, Sister. In a short while this place will be taken over by the village Magistrate, his men, and the concerned citizens of Staudernheim. Word of murder travels quickly; pray that justice will be equally as swift.”

Hildegard nodded in agreement and lowered her hood close down over her face. Soundlessly she followed Volmar's lead as the two left the alcove of Saint Peter's altar. Rudegerus, if he heard or felt their presence, did not respond. He did not open his eyes or speak. He lay motionless, sprawled out face down on the cold stone floor, his hood over his face.

They parted at the window of the Anchorage. “Brother Volmar, please be careful. I have a feeling your life will also be threatened by this inhuman murderer. There's been so much death, for truly the Holy Relic's curse lives on.” Deep down, she knew her warnings could not hold him and keep him from harm.

Snow floated down, belying the depth of horror now surrounding them. Volmar felt numb, but he forced himself to smile back at Hildegard, trying to humor her and shed his own embarrassment over his confession of attraction towards her. Maybe it was the protective womb of living within a prophecy, or the supernatural power of possessing the Spear of Destiny, or perhaps it was more the careless feeling of the invincibility of youth. Whatever, Volmar did not feel a need to proceed with caution.

Outside the Anchorage at Disibodenberg Monastery

Dawn

Uda's words echoed from the past in Hildegard's mind as she watched Volmar slowly trudge up the hill, ascending the snowy bank leading back to the stables. “Listen, child, to the stories people tell you. There will be stories of horror, of courage, and yes, even of joy. It is in the retelling of these stories, these most enduring life stories, that you'll come to appreciate who these people are, what troubles them, as well as what inspires them. Once you hear their life stories, you are no longer in the company of strangers. It is this connection which binds us all to the Almighty.”

Uda was a big part of Hildegard's most enduring life stories. She was the parent who refused to reject her strange child, a teacher who saw in her a mind of great potential and promise, and a master herbalist who instructed her on the value and respect for all of God's miraculous creations. Uda knew the right potions to mix to cure any ailment, even those hidden from others and only apparent in one's mind. As a child, Hildegard never left her side, assisting her as she ministered to the poor, dressing the wounds of the villagers, as Jutta now ministered to the eternity of their souls. Uda's teachings, to young Hildegard, expressed the practical side of faith, the side where one's handiwork held precedence over one's private prayer life. Hildegard knew that she owed much of her own yearnings to Uda's down-to-earth folk wisdom and now more than ever, she longed for the old woman's sage advice.