Chapter 25: How Pelle Must Serve the Lady of the Lands

Father Ortwinus was leading the final prayer of the Holy Mass on this Sunday. Murmuring along with the other believers, Pelle let his thoughts meander. In the front pew sat Lieselotte in her black widow’s clothing, her face hidden behind a black veil and holding her infant son tightly. At her side sat the count following the proceedings with a grim look on his strong features. This was the memorial mass for Sigfrid of Birkenhain and the Noble Ermegart, and the village church was packed to the last pew.

The last days had been a whirlwind of activity for Pelle and with the count as guest in the reeve’s manor, Ingeburg had been just as busy. More lay ahead, and Pelle was honestly grateful for this enforced day of resting. His thoughts flew ahead to the next day’s tasks. Already, survivors from Birkenhain trickled in, hoping for food and protection. Pelle had them quarantined under strict control before they were allowed inside Lemdalen’s walls. Their clothes were smoked and then soaked in lye befo they were allowed into the village.

Most importantly, the survivors were questioned sharply as to who had been involved in the schemes of the abbot. Already, two men were awaiting their trial for their role in the burning of Jew Alley. Four surviving abbey soldiers would also stand trial for the mayhem in the Red Cockerel. Pelle was determined to weed out those who had laden guilt on their heads.

Finally, Ortwinus closed the prayer and gave them the blessing. It was time to file out of the church, past the many who had not found seating inside. Pelle and Ingeburg walked behind Lieselotte and her father, a position they would hold for some time to come. Once again, Ingeburg was lady-in-waiting for her friend, and Pelle was the sole surviving vassal. They walked the short distance to the manor where the noon meal was already waiting for them.

It was crowded in the manor hall, and the meal was frugal of necessity. The food stores in Lemdalen were limited, and with fugitives and survivors coming in there would be shortages. Pelle and the count had agreed to give a good example, even though the contents of Tosdalen’s cellars were being transferred to Lemdalen to augment the stores. At least they were not lacking in ale and spirited drink.

The mood was subdued of course as Birkenhain was mourning the Lord Sigfrid. Solemn toasts were drunk to his memory and to the health of his lone heir. Lieselotte kept quiet all through the meal, being very much aware of the responsibility that rested on her slim shoulders. Towards the end of the meal, she rose from her chair, however to address her vassals and retainers.

“My dear father, trusted Reeve, dearest Ingeburg, brave soldiers and loyal men of Lemdalen: the Lord has seen fit to task me with the rule the lands for my son. I am unprepared for that, yet with the help from my father and the loyal service from you, I shall make it my noblest goal to restore prosperity and peace to my son’s lands. The first effort will be to clean up and rebuild Birkenhain. That will take time, and I therefore grant Lemdalen town rights from this day onward, to reward its people for their loyalty to my house.” She took a deep breath. “The reeveship for Lemdalen will be vacated, and the former reeve Pelle will be the hereditary schultheiss for the new town of Lemdalen. I shall rule the lands from Lemdalen Manor until Birkenhain can be a fit and safe home for me and my son.”

***

It was a month later, and the Count of Rennenberg had finally decided that his presence was not needed anymore. He had left one of his own lieu-tenants, Hartwicus, with a score of men to form the new guard of Birkenhain. Lieselotte had appointed the man as her new Captain, and Gebhardt had risen to lieu-tenant. With two score soldiers and the armed people of the new town, Lemdalen would be well defended if the need would arise.

Life in Lemdalen had normalised considerably. The plague had left the lands and spared Lemdalen, and the peasants were busy in the fields to bring in the harvest. Fortunately, the weather had favoured the crops, and the harvest would be good.

Already, over a score of men who had found refuge in Lemdalen were working on the improvement of the town wall. The wall would be increased by a full klafter with battlements added. Pelle also oversaw the additions to the manor house. A large, round tower was being built, and the upper floor would be rebuilt in masonry. The town wall would be enlarged to enclose the manor house at a distance of thirty feet to create a walled courtyard. The dry moat would be deepened to over two klafter depth. All this would take time, but once the peasants and freeholders had their harvest in, there would be more men to help with the effort.

Tjark and Matthias had returned to the clearing in Lemdalen Forest to resume their work. There had been some worries since the Birkenhain forge did not exist anymore as a customer. However, the forge master Tilke came up with the idea to salvage tools and implements from the destroyed forge and build a new one in Lemdalen forest. Since the forge had been on the fringe of Birkenhain, they could safely gather what was left of the tools and Tilke was already busy to erect a structure that would house forge and smiths.

A new abbot had arrived at Tosdalen. The Abbot Anselmus was only a few years Pelle’s senior, a good-looking man with a pleasant voice who expressed his wish for friendly ties with Lemdalen. The redrawn charter of the abbey placed it under Birkenhain rule again, but Anselmus admitted that he was not too keen to lord it over the peasants. His uncle, the bishop, had tasked him to return the abbey to being a place of worship and servitude to God. Pelle hoped that this new modesty would keep.

Pelle’s own tasks had multiplied. The reeve’s manor was bursting at its seams with all the visitors coming and going. He had to organise the cleaning of Birkenhain too. In that he was lucky as it turned out that the family of Easterners who had helped out Tjark claimed that they had survived the plague two years before. Against the promise of a rich reward, the four men set out for Birkenhain. A huge pit had been dug outside the city, and the men wore wet face masks against the stench when searching the houses of Birkenhain to drag out the carcasses and dispose of them in the large pit.

Reckoning that the burnt-out section of Birkenhain was safe, those survivors who returned were given the task to clear the charred rabble. A separate pit was dug where the charred bodies found in the ruins of Jew Alley were laid to rest.

Every week, Pelle spent a day near Birkenhain to oversee the clean-up. He was leery to enter the town, but there was one task that needed to be done. At the head of six volunteers he made it into the castle. There he made sure that Sigfrid and his mother had indeed been buried properly, but he also searched the Baroness Ermegart’s bower. He found a letter there, sealed with wax and addressed to her daughter-in-law. The baroness’ confessor had written it. Reasoning that is was too risky for Lieselotte to receive the letter in person, Pelle smoked it for a good hour and opened it himself. In spite of the hardening he had gone through in the weeks past, he choked a little bit reading the letters.

Pelle was at first puzzled by the letter. There was the allusion to the Baron’s journey to the Wartburg. Pelle knew too well how Lieselotte had reached motherhood during that time, but what about the riches she would gain?

The secret passageway! Pelle had no idea where the hidden entrance to that stairwell was in the baroness’ bower, but he could well remember where Lieselotte had emerged in the room upstairs. Telling his men to wait for him, he rushed inside and upstairs to the room where Ingeburg had lodged. Somebody had ransacked the room, but the wooden panelling was intact. Pelle had looked at the hidden door back in that week, and he thought he might know where to find the latch. It could not be on top where the small women would not reach it. It had to be lower.

Looking carefully, he saw a candleholder made of bronze that was mounted next to the hidden door. He pulled up and down to no effect. He pressed to the sides, and again there was no movement. Then he tried turning the candleholder. The secret lock clicked and the door sprang open. Before him was a very narrow spiral staircase leading upwards and downwards. Quickly, Pelle ran out to the hallway to find a fresh torch. Lighting the torch on a burning tallow light, he climbed down the stairway. There was nothing to be seen when he reached the floor below. He found the lock and opened the door to the baroness’ bower, but he closed it quickly.

Proceeding downstairs, he came past another door. This one opened to the great hall behind the large tapestry, and again he closed it lest his passage might be discovered. Climbing down another flight, he reached the bottom of the stairwell. There, the stairwell opened into a domed room four steps across, and here he found the riches of Birkenhain. Three oak chests with massive padlocks, the Baron’s sword and armour, and a large book which Pelle recognised as the overseer’s ledger.

Pelle debated briefly with himself whether to leave the treasure where it was and to trust that nobody would discover the secret stairwell or to bring everything to Lemdalen. In the end he decided that the treasure had to be moved. Too many men were roaming the castle now, and if he came to retrieve gold for his lady, he might be discovered.

When he emerged from the castle with the chests, the ledger, and the baron’s armour, the soldiers who accompanied him were none the wiser as to where he had recovered the bounty. A little after noontime he left Birkenhain with his six soldiers and a horse-drawn cart and rode homewards to Lemdalen. A half mile from Lemdalen there was an abandoned dwelling next to the Lem River. As had become their habit, Pelle and his men took off all the clothing that they had worn in Birkenhain and washed themselves with soap in the river. For the ride into town, they put on their “Lemdalen” clothes that had been stashed in the dwelling. It was a precaution against bringing the plague into their town.

Reaching Lemdalen, they were properly challenged by the gate sentry before the gate was opened for them. Again as was his habit, Pelle greeted Ingeburg only from afar. The last he wanted was to bring the plague into his home. For the time being, he and the soldiers of his detail slept in separate quarters. Food was ready for them, and afterwards he and Ingeburg spoke to each other through a closed window on the ground floor.

“Are you still in good health?” was Ingeburg’s first question as always.

“I am, my love. I have news for the Lady Lieselotte, but also for you. Will you ask her to join you?”

It took only a few moments, and then Pelle heard his lady’s voice. “I am here, Pelle.”

“Lady, I have seen the grave of your husband. He was buried in proper form under the chapel floor as was his mother, the Baroness Ermegart.”

“It consoles me that they were laid to rest properly,” Lieselotte said in a sad voice.

“In the baroness’ bower I found a letter to you from her hand. I brought it along, but seeing that she died of the plague I shall read it to you.”

“Thank you, my brave Pelle,” Lieselotte answered with warmth.

In a low voice lest he be overheard, Pelle read the letter to the women. After he ended the reading, he added in a whisper. “I have followed the letter, and I found the treasure. I brought it back here. You have the gold now to rebuild your lands.”

“Oh, Pelle, what a true man you are,” Lieselotte sighed. “Be assured of my everlasting gratitude.”

“When can I have you back then?” Ingeburg asked.

“A week hence, the cleaning in the town will be finished. The dead are all buried and the men are now scrubbing walls and floors with strong lye. Then we shall need another week for the castle. After that, a week to make sure that nobody comes down sick, and then I shall be yours again.”

“Three weeks! I shall not complain if only you are careful. It is not just I who needs you. Remember that.”

“I shall. Believe me, Ingeburg, I miss your soft embrace more than anything.”

The measures they had adopted during the cleaning of town and castle had so far thwarted a fresh outbreak of the plague among his men, and now they were finished with the grim task. Already, Birkenhain’s populace was back up to a third of its original numbers according to the census Pelle took. The sharp questioning of the survivors had also identified the ringleaders of the unrest, a cloth merchant and and two carters. The latter two had followed the former reeve and had perished in front of Lemdalen’s gate, but the cloth merchant was very much alive and was awaiting judgement.

Thus, on the following Sunday, a Holy Mass was read in the smoke-blackened church by a nervous young priest who had been sent by the bishop, After Mass, Pelle, Schultheiss of Lemdalen and Overseer of Birkenhain Lands, standing in for the Noble Lady of Birkenhain, laid charge to Bechtold, merchant of Birkenhain and traitor. Three men bore witness against him, confirming his role in the burning of Jew Alley. Bechtold claimed to have been coerced by the wicked abbot, but that was refuted for he had been arguing to burn down Jew Alley weeks before the abbot entered Birkenhain.

In the end, Pelle proclaimed him guilty of arson, murder, theft, and treason. The sentence was lenient. There had been the temptation to have the man burnt at the stake, but Pelle was loath to order such a punishment. Instead, Pelle ordered him to be hanged as a thief, claiming that not being of noble pedigree, he could not mete out any such punishment as befit the more serious offences. The sentence was carried out on the very next morning under the eyes of the people of Birkenhain, and afterwards Pelle declared the traitor’s possessions forfeit.

With town and castle cleansed and with the burnt remnants of Jew Alley cleared away, Pelle was able to return to Lemdalen. From among the returned people, Pelle had selected a wine merchant to serve as schultheiss for Birkenhain. He knew the man well enough to entrust him with that task. He also left behind a corporal and six men to guard the empty castle and to keep the order.