Chapter 18: How Pelle Rises in the Baron’s Service

“Come in, friend Collier,” the baron invited Pelle.

It was six weeks after Pelle’s weeklong stay in Birkenhain. He had just delivered coal when the chamberlain found him and ushered him into the castle and into the baron’s study. Pelle could not quite shake the apprehensions when around the baron.

After the weeklong stay and the baron’s return Pelle had to stand in another time with a drunken Lieselotte kneeling on the bed. It had been awkward too, but this time Lieselotte was warned. She had been shocked and angry when she first learned about the way the baron was arranging for the deception but there was little she could do without exposing their own plot. Besides she had to admit that she too had deceived him.

“Your loyal services have borne fruit, Collier. My dear wife is now with child.”

Pelle did not have to fake the sigh of relief; it was how he felt.

“Yes, I feel the same,” the baron admitted nodding sagely. “We can dispense with the charade for now, at least until we know for sure. After the Solstice you will be made reeve of Lemdalen. I am not pleased with Markward’s service. I need a trusted man there. You can live in the manor and even my mother will allow Ingeburg to join you there. How is this for a reward?”

“My humble thanks, Lord. This is indeed a rich reward you bestow on me.”

“Nay, Collier. It is you who have saved the lands with your loins. Would that accursed fever had not taken this power from me! As it is my dear wife suspects nothing. She is happy to bear our child and I rejoice in her bliss.”

The baron really cared for Lieselotte Pelle realised. As he left the baron’s study he suddenly realised the reason for the new plans. He would be made reeve in Lemdalen so his presence would not always remind the baron of his own shortcomings. Pelle could understand that.

The good thing about this new development was that he could stay away from smelly, dirty Birkenhain. Their child would grow up surrounded by trees and green pastures. He could also keep plying his trade within limits. Lastly he could right some of the wrongs in Lemdalen.

Pelle sat at supper with Ingeburg who was getting increasingly heavy with child. She already knew of the changed reward and she shared his happiness, albeit not fully. The changes also meant a separation from the Lady Lieselotte, her dear, sisterly friend, and now even more. The week spent together in Ingeburg’s chamber had cemented the bond between the two young women. Even Pelle felt a bond with her now, a bond born of the love for Ingeburg they both shared.

After the meal they retired to her chamber, it being too cold outside for a stroll. Instead they huddled under the feather-filled cover Pelle had bought for Ingeburg and talked about their future. It was late before they fell asleep, and late in the morning before the bell woke them. After Mass and breakfast, Pelle left the castle, conscious that his presence was no longer requested. The baron had been friendly enough but Pelle sensed a hidden uneasiness on his master’s part. Before returning home he stopped by at Levy’s house. His friend was slightly disappointed that Pelle would not become the new overseer, something they could have benefitted from, but he congratulated Pelle nonetheless on his advancement. Rebecca was as friendly as ever, but Pelle sensed a sadness that seemed to engulf her. Asking Levy the older man sighed.

“She is feeling the loneliness. Were it not for Ingeburg she would be friendless here. At least she is in the favour of both noble ladies.”

There was nothing Pelle could do about that. He left his friend’s house and steered his wagon out of Birkenhain and to the east. He met Gebhardt on the highway. The corporal was returning to Birkenhain after courting Marja for a day. The two friends talked briefly, and Pelle had the impression that the next Spring would see another wedding.

In the past weeks, Tjark, Hunold, and a passel of their friends from Lemdalen had been busy erecting the wood frame and the rafters for Tjark’s cabin. The spaces between the beams had been filled with straw and clay, and wooden shingles were used to cover the roof.

The hunting cabin of the baron was also taking shape, being larger and more sturdy than the collier cabins and having two storeys. The bottom storey had stone walls and a massive door, and the workmen were currently busy erecting the wood framework for the upper storey. The clearing would look different for sure.

As it was, everybody was still living in Pelle’s cabin whilst the clay of the walls and the chimney in Tjark’s dwelling had to dry. Tjark and Luise kept a low fire burning in their future home to speed up the drying and to temper the chimney. Changes were about to come though. If Gebhardt had his way Marja would soon move to Birkenhain to marry the corporal. Tjark and Luise would move to their own cabin to leave Matthias alone in Pelle’s cabin when Pelle would move into the reeve’s manor. Pelle joked that Matthias would have to find himself a woman before long and was surprised when the young lad sported a dreamy smile.

Lastly, the stone kiln was ready and dried out. They had filled it with wood in the last week, and Pelle was looking forward to the first trial. It had taken them surprisingly long to fill the cavity, and Pelle expected good yields from it. Come the Monday, they would light the pile and then watch it and learn the use of the stone kiln.

Two weeks later, Pelle was walking Ingeburg along the aisle of the St. Petrus church in Birkenhain. He was admiring the high arches of its ceiling and the coloured glass mosaics of the pointed arch windows. It was Christmas Eve and the newly appointed Archdeacon of Birkenhain celebrated the Holy Mass. The baron had reached an agreement with the Bishop of Rennenberg, aided by his father-in-law, to install a high clergyman in Birkenhain, thus curbing the influence of the Abbot of Tosdalen over the town.

Ingeburg had to wear new, wider dresses to cover her swelling belly. Healthy as she was she had shown no ill effects yet, and Rebecca had told them to expect the birth during Rain Moon, April as the priests called it. This was a good omen, for children born in Spring were apt to grow to strength and health.

Pelle let his gaze sweep over the assembly. To the right, he could see Markward, and that man did not look happy. The evening before, the baron had announced the changes among his vassals, and Markward had been given a new task, Schultheiss of Birkenhain. Nominally, this was an advancement, but it brought him under the direct supervision and control of the baron.

Pelle’s appointment to reeve of Lemdalen had caused little surprise. It was well known that the baron favoured him and that Ingeburg enjoyed the support of both ladies. After Christmas Day, Pelle and Ingeburg would make use of the current mild weather and travel to Lemdalen to take over the manor house from Markward. Pelle had already secured dry goods, ale, smoked hams and other foods for the food locker of the manor, and a large wagon would carry those goods to Lemdalen. The next Sunday would see him and Ingeburg at Lemdalen’s St. Raphael Church where the baron would invest him formally.

Already he had received a finely crafted brigandine of black leather and blackened armour plates, as well as a coat bearing the Birkenhain Arms. The old baroness had gifted him a pair of the finest boots, whilst Lieselotte, through Ingeburg, had bestowed him a medallion bearing the Rennenberg seal. The latter would give him direct access to her father, the Count, and his protection. Pelle could not quite see the use of it, but he appreciated the gesture.

Whilst he was musing, the archdeacon had progressed nicely in the Mass he celebrated. It was now time for the Lord’s Supper, and they all knelt to receive it. For the first time in his life, Pelle received both Body and Blood of the Saviour, as the latter was a privilege of nobility and clergy. As the baron’s vassal, he ranked highly enough to warrant a sip of the mass wine.

After the Holy Mass, baron and baroness gifted food and clothes to the poor who stood in line outside the church. Honey-sweetened cakes were handed out, and cinnamon wine was poured for the people of Birkenhain. Pelle was uneasy, standing behind the baron and being the focus of attention from the townspeople, but Ingeburg pressed his arm calming him.

An opulent supper waited for them in the Great Hall of the castle. Wine and ale flowed freely, and the castle dwellers partook of food and drink until late into the night. Ingeburg kept to the light ale and ate sparingly, but Pelle was forced to imbibe heavily, having to drink toast after toast with the other vassals. Thus, when they retired to Ingeburg’s chambers, Ingeburg had to help her drunk husband to the bed much to her secret amusement. Pelle was always so levelheaded, and to see him out of control for once made him more human in her eyes.

Woe to him come the next morning! Pelle woke to a splitting head ache, and the Morning Mass in the chapel never seemed longer to his suffering mind. Salty bacon and plenty of hot teas at breakfast sufficed to reduce his suffering somewhat, but he was a miserable man all Christmas Day.

There were no fewer than three Holy Masses held that day, and thanks were said for a good year in Birkenhain lands. The baron gifted a new, large crucifix for the St. Petrus church, and the Archdeakon spent the best part of an hour consecrating it. Incense and myrrh made Pelle nauseous in his hung over state, and he was glad to escape after the last ‘Our Father’. That evening, Pelle fasted in spite of the delicacies that were offered. Chomomile teas were boiled at Ingeburg’s behest, and Pelle flushed his body with a deluge of hot tea.

The day after Christmas saw him almost his old self again. He spent hours with Neidhardt, learning his duties as reeve. After that, Gebhardt took him to the practice field, beyond the Southern Gate, to teach the Collier the rudiments of sword fighting. Pelle had purchased a used broadsword with handguard, an outward sign of his new position, and he wanted to learn how to wield it. Gebhardt was a good swordsman, and he enjoyed teaching his friend. It was clear that Pelle would never match a trained soldier, but at least he would be able to deal with the average footpad or brigand.

Pelle was soaked in sweat when they returned, and he took time to wash his body, using soap and some tepid water. Ingeburg’s handmaiden was sent off to wash the sweat soaked tunic, and Pelle dressed in fresh garments for the supper.

The entire week was spent that way, with mornings under Neidhardt’s tutoring, and afternoons on the practice field, and Pelle reached a point where he was able to hold off Gebhardt for a minute or two. Obviously, the baron had watched them for he commented on Pelle’s abilities one evening.

“I see you are preparing yourself for your new tasks?” he asked.

“It were useless to carry a sword and not mastering its use, my Lord,” Pelle answered.

The baron nodded to that, obviously satisfied, before another thought came up in his mind.

“Who will tend the hunting cabin?”

“My friend and brother Tjark, Lord, and his new wife Luise. Young Matthias, my apprentice, can help them. We plan on finding more helpers, to keep up with the needs of the forge. Come the spring, more of the stone kilns will be built too. The mason Wenzel promised me his journeymen and workmen. This will help us.”

“I take it then that your stone kiln worked well?”

Pelle could not hide a smug smile. Never had he completed the charring in just five days, and never had the coal been so evenly charred.

“Yes, Lord. We can also keep up the charring in bad weather.”

“That was good thinking, Reeve Pelle. I also see that Lemdalen will be in good hands.” He seemed to end but thought the better of it. “Markward left large shoes for you to fill.”

That appeased the former reeve who had been frowning. The baron regarded him for a moment.

“You, my Schultheiss, will have much work too. We must lessen the stench in Birkenhain. I have sent for a builder from Rennenberg. They have a sewer there, linked to a small creek, wherein all the wastes are flushed away. I want something like that built here, and you, my Schultheiss, will see to it that it is used. No more stinking refuse on the streets!”

The new Schultheiss looked not very pleased, but he nodded nonetheless, perhaps sensing that his position as vassal was none too secure.

Two days later after a church service in the St. Raphael’s Church, the Baron Sigfrid of Birkenhain invested Pelle, Bero’s son, as the new reeve of Lemdalen. The villagers looked on, many of them with happiness but some showing scorn and anger at this appointment. Some villagers feared for their investments, the years of bribes paid to the old reeve. Others felt that their past sins might be revisited on them with the change.