The Scribe(142)
He loved her, and she loved him back. When Hoos pulled away, she stroked his shoulders, his strong arms, and the strange serpent tattooed on his wrist.
When Theresa woke, she saw that Hoos was already dressed and was smiling at her. She thought to herself that the leather jerkin and dyed woolen trousers made him look like a prince. The young man told her that he had to go to the royal storehouses to help share out the rations, but as soon as he finished, he would be back to kiss her again. She stretched and asked him to hold her. Hoos planted a kiss on her lips, then stroked her cheek before leaving the room.
A moment later someone knocked on the door. Theresa supposed it would be Hoos, so she ran to open it still half-naked, but before her appeared Alcuin’s face, with a grim expression on it. The monk asked to come in, and she assented as she covered herself. The willowy figure paced up and down the room before stopping to give her a slap.
“May I ask what you think you’re doing?” he blurted out in indignation. “Do you think anyone will believe the miracle if you go about merrymaking with the first person who crosses your path?”
Theresa reddened from shame, looking at him with trepidation. She had never seen him so worked up.
“What if somebody saw you? Or if that Hoos opens his big mouth?”
“I… I didn’t.”
“For goodness’ sake, Theresa! Your mother has just confessed to me that she saw him leaving your room, so don’t start acting all prudish now.”
“I’m sorry!” She burst into tears. “I love him.”
“Oh! You love him do you? So marry him and start having children! In fact, why not go the market first and announce to all and sundry that you have carnal knowledge of Hoos—that the revenant has found a more pleasurable angel, and they should devote the chapel they want to build in your honor to the Devil himself!”
Alcuin sat down, his nerves in shreds.
Theresa didn’t know what to say.
He drummed his fingers on the chair, looking her up and down. Finally, he stood. “You must stop seeing him. At least for a while. Until people have calmed down and forgotten about the fire.”
Theresa agreed, red-faced.
Alcuin nodded several times, then blessed her before leaving the room without another word.
Moments later her stepmother appeared. Rutgarda, who had stayed overnight at her sister’s house, had been waiting outside for Alcuin to leave. She walked in without a greeting, her eyes fixed on her stepdaughter. Though Rutgarda was much shorter than her, she took Theresa by the shoulders and shook her hard, telling her that she was a brainless little tart. With her behavior, Rutgarda assured her, she wasn’t only putting herself in danger, but also giving ammunition to those who were accusing Gorgias of murder. She gave her such a talking to that Theresa wished she were deaf. She loved her father, but the situation was becoming unbearable. She wanted Würzburg to disappear from the face of the earth, for every last inhabitant to vanish, so she could be alone with Hoos. She didn’t care what they would say, or what they thought would happen to them. She just wanted to be beside him. She would leave the fortress and ask Hoos to take her away from that awful place, to go with her to Fulda, where her lands and her slaves would give them a new life. There they could grow old together in peace, with no more fear or lies.
Without stopping to reflect, she left Rutgarda standing there and ran outside, covering herself with an old habit. As a group of servants were leaving the fortress, she mingled with them to pass through the gates and head to the granaries.
The royal storehouses stood on a hilltop in the northernmost part of the city, protected by a thick wall and connected to the fortress via an underground passage. Access was normally gained through that passage, and the gates that opened onto the streets of the citadel were only used when needed. When Theresa arrived in the area, a crowd had gathered at the entrance, waiting for the rations to be distributed.
However, it was too late to go back. Hoos would be inside the storehouse, and the only way to get in would be to wait until the gate was opened. Without realizing what was happening she found herself dragged along by the swarms of people pressing toward the entrance. Equipped with bags and sacks, the mass was shouting and threatening to break down the gates. Now and then, violent shoves created gaps in the crowd that were quickly filled in again by the mob. At one point, Theresa felt herself a mere rag doll at the mercy of the jostling. She thought she might be crushed to death. Then all of a sudden her hood came off and someone recognized her.
As if by magic, a space opened up around her. The townspeople stopped pushing and stared at the figure of Theresa. She didn’t know what to do, until suddenly from within the crowd came an ominous voice. The head parchment-maker screamed at the crowd to make way for him as he approached Theresa, who had frozen like a mouse faced with a snake.
When he reached her, Korne bent down as if he were bowing to her, but instead he picked up a stone and hit her round the head with it. Fortunately a group of townsfolk stopped him from doing it again, while some women took Theresa to the storehouse gate. There two soldiers took over and it wasn’t long before Hoos appeared, accompanied by Zeno, who had been called for because Theresa’s head wouldn’t stop bleeding.
The physician took some filthy scissors from his bag and attempted to cut her hair, but Theresa wouldn’t allow it. So he used a carved comb to separate her hair, which revealed a small gash. Zeno confirmed that it wasn’t serious, but applied some liquor, which made her cry out in pain. Then he covered the wound with a compress of cold water.