Hildegund
As they neared the shop, Hildegund noticed that Father Cristianus was standing outside waiting for their arrival. The priest was a tall and slender man, a few years older than her father. Streaks of gray had dulled his flaxen hair, but his face was still boyish and round. He stood there, scratching the sandy-colored stubble on his chin absentmindedly until he noticed Hildegund and her father walking towards him.
Richart approached the priest, "I am sorry to keep you waiting, Father! Please, let's sit inside." Then he turned to Hildegund, "Hil, grab us a round of ale before joining us."
"Thank you for your hospitality, Richart," the priest responded as he crossed the threshold into the one-roomed shop.
Hildegund was befuddled. As she stepped around the loom that dominated the floor space and went to the back of the shop to grab three steins of beer, she wondered why the priest was here, but not the woman who her father wanted to marry.
The two men were still exchanging pleasantries as Hildegund took a seat at the wooden table that often doubled as a sales counter.
"Richart, my son, have you shared the good news with your lovely daughter?" the priest asked. Hildegund inwardly cringed at being called lovely.
"Well, no," her father began, but Hildegund interrupted.
"Good news? Are congratulations in order? Where is she? Will I have time to meet her, to get to know her, before the wedding? Or is she someone I already know?" The words tumbled out, and the men's mouths fell agape.
"What? What you are talking about, Hil? What woman? What wedding?"
"The woman you are marrying, Papa. The woman who will be my stepmother."
"Oh goodness! That's not why Father Cristianus is here!" her father laughed. But then his smile fell, and in a hushed tone he said, "I know you miss your mother, and God knows that I do too. I sometimes wish my heart would allow me to remarry so our family would feel more complete. But that's not what I've been called to do. God has other plans. At least for the moment." He looked over at the priest.
Hildegund only had a moment to feel a rush of relief before the priest revealed the truth of the matter at hand.
"As you may recall from Sunday's sermon," the priest began, speaking in the same commanding tone he used when speaking from the pulpit, "The Archbishop continues to call for pilgrims to the east. Our brothers in arms need more men to populate the holy cities. The Frankish knights have enough soldiers to hold the walls for now, but who remains inside the walls with them? The Italians have an army of merchant ships that deliver goods, but who owns the markets? Greeks? Jews? Moors, even? They need more Latins. Ideally to settle permanently, but even a continual flow of Christian pilgrims will help fortify our holdings. And those who travel to the Holy Land, who kneel where Jesus walked and who kiss the relics of the saints, well, they are blessed. They are forgiven of sin. It is not an undertaking for the weak. Your father is not weak. And he has vowed to take on the burden of this pilgrimage," Father Cristianus finished with a nod towards Richart.
Hildegund tried to absorb this information. "You're moving to the Holy Land?"
"No, no. I-I have vowed to take a pilgrimage for your mother." He looked down at his large hands and picked at his thumb nail. "To pray for her soul. And your brother's. It's-it's the least I could do." His voice trailed off.
"You father has been called by God. He will honor the memory of your mother, and in doing so, help save her soul." The priest gave Richart's forearm a reassuring pat.
Hildegund's mind swam. Her father was a pious man, yes. But she could not imagine her father abandoning her for any reason, especially after losing her mother and the baby she had been carrying. So she asked, "But what about me?"
"My child, you will travel with me, of course! That is why I went to fetch you."
A flood of questions was forming on the tip of her tongue when the door swung open and Grimbert walked in. He bowed towards the priest, "I am sorry that I am late, Father." He then pulled up a stool next to Richart and across from Hildegund. Grimbert was her father's childhood friend. They had apprenticed together, and although Grimbert had never made the level of master, and occasionally even worked as a journeyman for her father, the two had remained close. He was pudgy and balding, but wore a tidy beard and presented himself well. Hildegund thought he drank a bit too much, and found him to be distant. But she knew her father trusted this man, and because of that she tried not to question his character.
"I have hired Grimbert to accompany us on the journey," Richart explained to his daughter. Hildegund saw Grimbert flinch at the word hired, but Richart continued without seeming to notice. "We are not leaving immediately. A trip like this takes time to prepare for, correct, Father?"
"Yes, indeed. And the church is here to assist," Father Cristianus nodded.
"There is the matter of settling our affairs here. The running of my shop in my stead, for instance. Then, gathering supplies, obtaining sturdy horses, planning a route, and ensuring our safety on a trip that is sure to be full of hazards."
"Especially when traveling with a young lady, such as yourself," the priest added and Grimbert grunted in agreement as he took a hearty sip from a stein of beer.
"I am no lady! And I know how to take care of myself!" The retort spilled out of her mouth reflexively.
Her father guffawed, and the other two men joined in with their laughter. Grimbert almost choked on his drink.
"It is true that you are unlike any twelve-year-old girl I have met before," her father began once the laughter had settled down, "This has been a point of contention between us for years. And you can definitely defend yourself against the likes of Adso. I just witnessed that for myself but a half hour ago. But it is not the threat of other children that we worry about."
"Yes, I am aware that there might be bandits and robbers on the road, not to the mention wolves," Hildegund spoke up. "So, I think you must let me train with a sword!"
"It takes many years to learn how to use a sword," her father responded.
"But the girl is right. As much as I hate to say it, if she is going to travel with us, she must know how to defend herself," Grimbert interjected.
"Maybe a dagger would be a more suitable choice of weapon," offered her father.
Then Father Cristianus spoke up. "Indeed. She does need to know how to defend herself," he said, then turned his head, "I don't believe that you are fully aware of the dangers that you will encounter."
"I think I am," Hildegund said, almost defiantly, lifting her head and meeting the priest's gaze.
The priest lifted his hand and began to stroke his chin. The others looked at him expectantly, and when he spoke his voice was calm, and his words were measured. "Some dangers you will face could lead to death. You know this, yes? But you will have died while on pilgrimage and so your soul will be reunited with our Lord," he paused, waiting to make sure Hildegund was following before he continued. "There are other dangers. Crimes that can be committed against a young woman. Crimes that, yes, may be stopped by a sword or a dagger. But if not, will wound you both in body and soul."
The priest nodded gravely. Grimbert shifted uncomfortably on his stool. Her father stared intently at the back of his hands; he almost looked afraid. Hildegund immediately grasped the gravity of the priest's tone and noticed the suddenly solemn expressions on the faces of all three men. "Then what do you suggest?"
"That is something your father and I have been discussing. He asked me to think of a solution. And I believe I came up with one. Do you remember the story of Saint Thecla?" he asked.
Did she remember? Of course she remembered! Thecla had been miraculously saved from certain death and made her escape dressed as a man. She had continued to preach while wearing male garb until her death. "You want me to dress as a boy!" Hildegund exclaimed.
"Yes, a disguise," the priest confirmed. "In order to protect your virtue while on the road."
Richart pursed his lips and exchanged a look with the priest, but then turned his head toward his daughter. "It makes me uncomfortable, I'll be honest, but I have no doubts you will be able to pull it off," her father said quietly, resigned.
"Although learning a few moves with a sword -or a dagger- wouldn't hurt," Grimbert gruffed, "We can't have you being a liability."
Dress like a boy? Learn moves on a sword? Without getting into trouble? Even more - with approval. And she wasn't even the one who suggested it! She felt so full of elation that she might burst!
But travel to the Holy Land? Without Adso? The thought instantly deflated her. She inhaled sharply. She had many, many questions. But she had to figure some things out for herself first, before she asked them.
As the men continued their conversation about the particulars of their upcoming journey, Hildegund snuck out of the shop. She rushed off to find Adso. If there was one thing she did know, it was that she was taking that sword back, and now!