Chapter 12: How Pelle Finds Help

Once they were on the high road, Pelle related Ingeburg’s greetings and suggested he take Tjark to Birkenhain more often for him to have some fun in his life. That was when Tjark cleared his throat.

“Pelle, I have question. Do you think I may help you more often with your charring?”

“Why?”

“I’ve been thinking lately. You seem to lead a good life in the forest. You have the right to hunt, you have clean spring water to drink, a sturdy cabin, and now even a wife. They pay you good silver for your coal. I was thinking: now that Ingeburg is in Birkenhain, do you have need for more help?

“You know that Hanke will inherit our lands. Father will not split them. I know he’s right, but what of me? I don’t want to be Hanke’s farmhand for the rest of my days. I want to marry one day and have a family. Also, Hanke is courting Luise; her father is offering a good dowry. I couldn’t stand to live under the same roof with her and even take orders from her.”

“You rather want to be a collier?” Pelle asked, mildly astonished. He could understand Tjark’s reasoning for leaving his father’s house, but to become a lowly collier?

“Yes, why not? It gives me a chance to be my own master one day.”

Pelle thought about it. The Baron had told him to find more people for the trade. He would even receive a reward of one hundred Groschen. Why not, then? He and Tjark had always got along, and Ingeburg would love the thought too.

“Let’s talk about it,” he started. “You are a grown man and you have helped me often in the past. There is not so much left to learn for you. I would have to pay you a share of what we char or it would seem wrong. On the other hand, with your help and with what young Matthias can help, we may char twice as much coal and more.”

“I will not argue with you about paying me a share,” Tjark grinned. “May I speak to my father about it?”

Pelle nodded. Yes, it would be nice to have somebody around. With the added responsibility for Matthias and Marja it would also be good to have another grown-up around.

“Talk to him, find out what he thinks. Being a collier is hard work at times. Say, have you a girl in mind already?”

Tjark turned pink. “No, not really.”

For the rest of the way, Pelle and Tjark talked about their plans. The youngsters in the wagon bed were also talking in low voices. When they left the high road and rode the narrow path into the forest, that talk ceased and the girl in particular looked about with fear.

“Don’t worry about the forest, you hear,” Pelle told them. “I’ll teach you all you need to be safe here. See that brook? It flows through my clearing. We have good, fresh water all the time.”

The wagon tumbled madly over the path, and they all had to hold on.

“We’re almost there,” Pelle continued. “See! That’s my cabin. And there, Matthias, that is my coal pile.”

Pelle stopped the wagon, and with Tjark’s assistance, backed it against the lean-to that served as shelter for the horse and the donkey. The old donkey was grazing peacefully and soon the horse joined it in the small corral.

Pelle unlocked the door and showed the siblings in. Marja’s eyes opened wide when she saw the costly cookwares and the smoked deer leg over the fireplace.

“I have only two beds,” Pelle told them, pointing up to the platform. “There’s room enough though. We’ll build two new cots and we’ll hang a blanket to give Marja some space of her own. For tonight we’ll find something.”

Tjark had studied the cabin. “That’s really a nice place to live in, Pelle. I’ll ask my father for help. Mayhap he will give me the materials to build a cabin for myself. Once Ingeburg returns, I cannot intrude on you.”

“Would that will happen soon,” Pelle sighed. “Once you get used to having someone around it’s awfully lonely here.”

Pelle borrowed Tjark the donkey and the cart to ride to Lemdalen and soon his brother-in-law disappeared between the trees. He turned to the youngsters.

“Now, the first task for you two is to clean up. We’ll fill the bathtub and then you’ll wash and comb. Those rags will have to go. I’ll find you something to wear. Grab a bucket each of you and follow me!”

He took two buckets himself and led the way to the brook. He showed them a place where the water was clear and deep enough to fill the buckets. They dragged the filled buckets into the cabin. Pelle started a fire and they filled the first large kettle with water to heat. The rest was poured into the wooden tub. They made two more trips to the brook to fill the tub.

This time of the year the water in the brook was not really cold, but Pelle knew that cold water did not clean nearly as well as warm water. They would have to wait for the water to heat. To bridge the time Pelle laid the table. The bread was only five days old — quite edible — and Pelle cut shavings off the smoked deer leg. The two youngsters forgot their shyness as they devoured the delicious food.

Whilst the water was still heating, Pelle showed Marja where to find everything in the cabin. He could smell her fear whenever he came close to her. Suddenly, realisation washed over him. The girl had been violated. Somewhere during their flight a man or men had taken advantage of the defenceless orphan, and now she was scared of any male save for her brother. Pelle turned. The boy was busy sweeping dirt from the cabin. He spoke to Marja again but in a very low voice.

“Marja, you are safe with me. Whatever happened to you it will not happen with me. I’ll protect you, too.”

She looked up then, anguish showing in her face. “I did not want it!” she whispered. “I begged them to stop. I tried to fight, but they just laughed and did it anyway.”

“Who did it? Somebody in Birkenhain?”

She shook her head. “No, it was a moon ago in Bergheim. Three soldiers of the City caught me outside our camp.”

“Were you hurt badly? Do you need a healer’s help?”

Again, she shook her head. “I was bleeding something fiercely right after, but it went away.” She looked at him again. “I can’t help being afraid.”

“I guess you can’t,” Pelle sighed. “I’ll try to keep my distance from you, right? I’ll also warn Tjark not to scare you. I can’t help one thing though: you are going into that tub, and you are going first. I’ll hang a blanket from the rafters so we can’t see you. You have to wash your body with soap and water, and your hair, too. I’ll not have a dirty girl prepare my food. Savvy that?”

Marja nodded.

“You are almost a grown woman, Marja, and you need to keep clean. I’ll be gone to Birkenhain most Saturdays to see my wife. I want you and your brother to take a bath every Saturday. I want you to wash your hands before you start cooking or laying the table. Look after your brother, too, and see that he washes. There are no fleas and lice in this house and I don’t want any.”

By now the water was hot enough and Pelle poured it into the tub. Then, as promised, he hung a blanket from the rafters shielding the tub from view. He laid out a homespun dress of his mother for Marja to wear and showed her the soap bar. As instructed, Marja threw her old rags to the floor and Pelle had Matthias bring them outside along with his own filthy rags. When Marja was washed and dressed again, Pelle made the boy jump into the tub. Then he set to work with a comb to untangle Marja’s hair and — more importantly — to de-lice her head. He discovered a few lice eggs and he combed the tangles from her black hair. Marja sat by the kitchen fire to let her hair dry whilst Pelle repeated the procedure with her brother.

He then found his own old bedstead in a corner of the platform. They cleared that corner of other things and screened it off with a blanket. The siblings said they were used to sharing a bed and for the time being that was fine with Pelle.

With the sleeping arrangements settled, Pelle set Marja to work on the supper. He had started to soak grain and peas before he left for Birkenhain and now they were ready for cooking. Carrots and a radish root were cut up and added as was a thick slice of smoked pork belly, diced into small cubes. From his small salt container, one of his most valued possessions, Pelle added a pinch of salt to complement a sating supper dish. It was enough to be warmed over twice in the next days.

After supper, Pelle sent the tired youngsters to bed whilst he looked after the horse one last time. It was getting dark and rather than wasting a tallow light Pelle turned in himself. Once during the night he woke in alarm when a sobbing whimper came out of the corner where the siblings slept. He heard the hushing voice of Matthias as he calmed his sister. Pelle shook his head. Soldiers! They did what they pleased if the lord of the lands did not restrain them. At least in this regard, Baron Sigfrid was a good ruler, for his soldiers were well disciplined.

When Pelle woke up, he found that Marja was already busying herself rekindling the fire. She was fully dressed and her hair was braided neatly. Wistfully, Pelle remembered Ingeburg standing at the hearth in a thin shift or even buck naked every morning during their short weeks together. He shook his head. No use getting morose. He swung his legs from the bed and stood naked for a moment before he found his work pants. Dressed in his pants, with his morning wood tenting the cloth, he scurried down the ladder and through the door to water a tree. That took care of his swollen member too, and he re-entered the cabin in a state that would not scare Marja.

“Good morrow, Marja,” he greeted her. She nodded back. “There is a bag of cracked oats to cook oatmeal from. Add some of the dried blueberries for sweetness. There are mint leaves in that crock, so let’s have mint tea. I’ll be back in a short while.”

He quickly strode to the brook, downstream of where they filled their buckets, and knelt down. With both hands he scooped up water to wash his face, chest, and armpits. He flushed his mouth, too, and drank some water before he stood and returned to the cabin. Marja was heating water.

“I will try to trade some milk when I go to the village next time,” he told her. Oatmeal would taste better with milk.

Matthias had woken up in the meantime and Pelle sent him outside to wash his hands and face before they had their breakfast. Pelle let the girl work on the breakfast without interference whilst he planned the day in his mind. The food was almost done when Matthias stormed into the cabin.

“There’s horsemen coming!” he shouted excitedly.

Pelle glanced at his bow and quiver and stood. With practised ease, he bent the stave to engage the string. Holding the weapon ready he peered out through the door. He relaxed. It was Hunold and Tjark who came riding up to the cabin. Pelle laid his bow aside and stepped out to greet his in-laws.

“Good morrow, Father Hunold,” he shouted and waved at Tjark who gave him a wry smile in return.

Both men slid down from their horses’ backs and tied the reins to a post.

“Good morrow, Pelle,” Hunold answered. “Can we talk?”

“Why, yes,” Pelle answered. “Come in, both of you, and share breakfast with us!”

“Don’t mind if I do,” Hunold grunted. They followed Pelle in.

“Hunold, this is Marja. She is tending the cabin. Her brother Matthias is my apprentice.”

“I heard that you have taken in two orphans.” He looked at the girl, clearly worried. “Does Ingeburg know about the girl? I mean, she’s a pretty one, isn’t she?”

“Ingeburg saw and approved of them in Birkenhain,” Pelle answered. “You are right, though. Marja is a pretty lass, but she is young and shy. There is no need for worries.”

Marja blushed crimson and Hunold tried to make good for his gaffe.

“I’m sorry, Lass. No father likes to see his daughter’s husband with a pretty girl.”

“I have no use for men,” Marja declared vehemently.

Hunold was slightly taken aback, but he let it go. “Pelle, this son of mine has it in his head to become a collier. He says you agreed to apprentice him.”

Pelle shook his head. “There was no talk of him being my apprentice. He’s a grown man, and he knows a lot about charring already. I can show him the trade, but it will be more like working together. I can use the help and Tjark says he wants to be his own master one day.”

“I told you, Father,” Tjark cut in. “And you know how I am with Hanke. There’ll be fighting all the time. You and Hanke better be rid of me before his wedding.”

Hunold nodded. “Tjark says you make a silver Groschen for two bushels of coal at the Baron’s forge. I never knew. Rudlo doesn’t pay that much, does he?”

“Rudlo’s a friend and he’s helping me out often. I charge him less. But Tjark got it right.”

“Damn! That’s quite some silver you’re raking in then. Small wonder you have such nice things here.” He squinted at Pelle. “And you’re keeping mum about it, too. You’re a sharp fellow for one so young. What are you doing with all that silver?”

Pelle actually grinned. “I give it to Levy who lends it to people who need silver. They have to pay back with interest. Levy and I split the interest.”

Hunold whistled. “Your silver earns you silver? Do you trust the Jew?”

Pelle nodded. “Levy is the most honest man I know. His uncle Tevje guarantees my silver.”

“Tevje? The trader Tevje? Son, you know very rich people.”

Pelle shrugged. “They’re just people. They’re Jews and you know they’re not allowed to enter the crafts. That’s why they are traders and money lenders.”