Chapter 17: How the Isebrands Have to Leave For Protestant Lands

The Duke of Sternfels was a gracious host. The remaining four hundred and forty Free Saxons found winter quarters in a number of empty storage houses in the town of Sternfels, under the Duke's castle. The men had plenty of coins and valuables, and the tavern-owners and innkeepers of the town were overjoyed over the strong increase of business.

Of course, some friction could not be avoided. The soldiers were idle and wine was plenty. Thus, quarrels broke out frequently. In one instance, a girl was molested by a drunken soldier, and it was lucky that a sober corporal interceded on the girl's behalf. Joerg made the drunkard pay restitution to the girl's family, but he realised that his men needed outlets for their energy.

The Isebrands began to organise competitions for their men. Archers, fist fighters, runners competed against each other. Almost every day, some event took place, and while only a few of their men participated in the contests, almost everyone of them watched. This was accompanied by betting and drinking, but it kept away the boredom away during the months of enforced inactivity.

A problem arose when, in December, the Bishop Manfred of Schwarzheim visited Sternfels. He was related to the Duke. The worthy Bishop was outraged that a fähnlein of heretics who had defiled the Holy City were given hospitality by the Duke. Not even the fact that the Free Saxons had saved quite a few nobles and had seen the Sternfels children to safety could mollify the Bishop's wrath. When the Duke maintained that he was bound by his word to offer hospitality to his son and daughter's benefactors, the Bishop cut short his visit and left castle and town, not without leaving orders with the priests in town to bar the Free Saxons from the Holy Mass.

Those of the soldiers who attended Mass regularly, were forced to leave town and visit a small church, across the river, where a reformed preacher held Sunday services. That preacher also held the Christmas service for the Free Saxons that saw almost the full fähnlein in attendance.

The Duke was not too happy about this development, but there was little he could do to influence the Bishop.

In mid January, Katherine gave birth to a boy. It took her more than a day, to deliver her son, and the Isebrands fretted over their sister the whole time. The Duke himself, accompanied by his son, viewed the little boy on the same day.

As soon as Katherine was able to stand on her legs again, a baptism was held. It was a fortunate coincidence that the Duke's grandfather had been Joerg of Sternfels. This made the given name Joerg acceptable to both families. The fiefdom of Leipheim was given to the boy at birth, too, making him Joerg Anton of Leipheim.

Anton of Sternfels and Joerg Isebrand served as godfathers for the boy in the baptism that was performed by the Archdean who had been granted exemption for this occasion by the Bishop.

Come March, the Castle was readied for a wedding. Young Ursula was to marry Rupprecht of Berlingen, heir to the Count of Berlingen. It was a rather hastily arranged marriage, for Ursula was considered as somewhat compromised by the events in Rome. Nobody would openly question that her virtue was intact, but the hidden innuendoes had hurt her reputation nonetheless.

The bridegroom, the Isebrands learned, was also hurt by rumours. He was over thirty and had never been married. That would have been forgiven, but he had not sired any children at all, and the word was out that his virility or even his manliness were wanting.

Joerg saw him when he arrived. He was a tall, strong figure, with manly features and a reddish hair and beard not unlike Joerg's. He was cultivated and polite, and he endeared himself to all the females present with his wit. Certainly, young Ursula could fare worse, Joerg thought.

On the eve of the wedding, however, Joerg had a surprise. The Duke had asked him for a private meeting, and they walked the ramparts together, out of earshot from everybody.

"Valiant Joerg, I have to ask a great favour of you. I feel bad to speak up about this, but I will admit that the strong boy your dear sister has born to us has confirmed my view that your family is of good stock. To make a long story short, my future son, Rupprecht, for all his obvious qualities, is ... hrhm ... not likely to sire children with my daughter."

"The rumours are true, then?" Joerg asked.

"Yes, and this is bad for all of us, not least for the good man himself. It may be remedied, though. Say, if my daughter were to give birth to a child, nine moons after her wedding, those damaging rumours would be quelled. The Noble Rupprecht is of the same idea, and seeing that you resemble him both in build and colour of hair, we entertained the idea that you might be persuaded to stand in for him at night."

Joerg was almost too surprised to speak.

"Highness, I'm but a peasant's son!"

"Tut-tut, but who will know? Anton told me how you consoled the poor daughter of the Countess Maroli, and how happy she appeared, even on the morning after ... well, after. We, myself and Rupprecht, could wish for no better man to introduce my daughter to the ways of the flesh and to sire a strong heir to the House of Berlingen."

"Highness, in those last months, your daughter, the Noble Ursula, lived with us, almost like a sibling. I care for her, but more as a young sister."

"Then do her this service! Do you want her to be childless and exposed to ridicule? She has a duty to fulfil for her family, and I fear her life will not be joyful. At least, grant her a few nights of fulfilment and most of all, motherhood!"

"How much shame will be on her if such a deceit becomes known?"

"That can be helped. The bridal chamber is connected to one of my own chambers by a secret passageway. Do not ask me why, only my grandfather would know. For the duration of the celebrations, my honoured guest, the Captain Joerg Isebrand, will lodge in one of my private chambers."

Joerg was silent. True, the prospect of spending nights with the lovely young Ursula was tempting, but the deceit involved with this made him uncomfortable.

"Captain Joerg, I will not insult your honour by offering a reward. I ask you to give my daughter a purpose for her life, a child."

Joerg took a deep breath.

"Will your Highness allow me to speak the Maid Ursula first? I shall not add rape to her sufferings. If she is in agreement, I shall perform the service."

Joerg was met with Ursula on the same evening, in her chamber. She was furious, livid with anger, over her situation. She had heard the rumours about her future husband, but after meeting him, she had dismissed them. Faced with the grim prospect of a life without love, she contemplated open rebellion, even at the cost of being sent off to a monastery if she refused the marriage vows.

"How can they do this to me? How can he vow to love me and cherish me? I almost wish the mad soldiery in Rome had raped me! At least, they would have felt desire for me!"

"You know you do not wish that, Ursula," Joerg tried to soothe her. "I have no answer for your questions, either, and no idea how to better your fate. I need to know, though, if you wish me to come to your chamber, after the wedding."

"Father said he would not pay you. Is that true?"

"Why would I ask payment for a privilege?" Joerg countered. "You are but a lovely lass, and to make you a woman will be a memory to cherish all my life. I have great fondness for you, Ursula. It is your decision, though. Do you want to bear a son with my rash temper? A son who may turn out a big, uncouth brute?"

To his utter shock, Ursula jumped up at his words and stood close to him.

"You are none of this, Joerg! I have seen you, those last months, and I very nearly lost my mind with jealousy, seeing how Lucrezia clung to you, hearing you and her at night. All the while, I was wishing it were me in your arms, and aye, in your bed! I saw your patience with us, your thoughtfulness for all those under your care. How can I not wish for you to be the man to make me a woman?

"I fear the months and years to come, though. I will go to Berlingen, and you will go to wherever your sword will be needed. We will have but a week or two, and then, what will be my fate? I will only have a memory, then, and no future, no dreams."

Joerg nodded. It was too cruel, she was right.

"I shall tell your father, Ursula. The last thing I ever want to do is hurt you."

"No! I want that memory. I want a child, sired by you. I want all of that. I am just afraid of a future without you."

"Ursula, there is nothing I can do, to ease your future life. I can give you my love for these next days and weeks. 'Tis but little, but it's all I can offer."

"Then come to my chamber tomorrow! Make me forget this cruel world for a night!"

Her reserve broke down in this moment, and she threw herself into his arms, crying into his chest. Joerg held her against his chest until her tears dried and she calmed down. She looked up into his eyes, with her tear-streaked face.

"Until tomorrow, Joerg," she said resignedly. "Go now! I must prepare for that mockery tomorrow."

For all outward appearance, the wedding was a dignified affair. The groom looked splendid, the bride was lovely, and all the guests were in a festive mood. In one aspect, Ursula prevailed, though: Nele was one of the Maids of Honour who carried Ursula's long, heavy train.

Joerg was sitting with the court officers, in the third pew, and he watched his sister perform her duties. He could see that Nele was self-conscious, but others did not know her well enough to notice.

"The Maid of Honour, the left one, who is she?" he suddenly overheard a whisper from his right. It was Bernhard, Knight of Aufeld, a noble vassal of the Duke.

"It's the Maid Nele Isebrand, the youngest of the siblings who returned Ursula and Anton. Be careful! To give her injury or slight might provoke her terrible brothers."

"Nay, why would a man give slight to a Maid of such uncommon beauty and grace? I am thinking courtship, not dalliance. Were it only I wasn't promised already!"

He heard some more whispered comments about her. For once, he was not tempted to bash heads. The men were sincere in their praise, after all.

The Dean of Sternfels performed the ceremony with much ado and the choir sang endless hymns. It took almost three hours to finish, and the poor couple had to stand through all of it.

From the church, they adjourned to the Great Hall of the Castle, where the tables bent under the load of the finest food and drink. Joerg came to sit with the Duke's chief officers and their wives, and he found himself the centre of their interest.

Against his protests, Katherine and Nele had trimmed his reddish hair and beard, according to the fashion. This and the rich clothing he wore on his tall, wide-shouldered frame made him easily the most imposing man at the table. He had learned good table manners at the court in Merseburg, and he had picked up enough of courteous behaviour and language to make his table neighbours forget his humble origins. They made him recount the Battles of Pavia and Brescia. By unspoken agreement, the Sack of Rome was left out, but Joerg had enough to tell to make a great impression.

A young maid, Minna, the daughter of the Duke's almoner, was seated across the table from Joerg and watched him with rapt attention all through the banquet, her wide blue eyes shining with adoration. She was not of marrying age yet, at fourteen years, but Joerg made sure to pay courteous attention to her, with the benevolent approval of her parents, and he was rewarded with her shy smiles. It was innocent and sweet and touching.