Brother Erland stood in the Garwehaus (= sacristy) and just placed the silver Hostien cup, which was the pride of the congregation and had recently been donated by the village elder, Konrad, and his wife Absildis, in the cupboard and locked it with his heavy iron key when he heard a rumble in the sanctuary. The small village church had been the victim of vandals before, who had devastated the interior, so he walked quickly through the door and followed the sound until he saw a young woman lying on the stone floor. She was strangely dressed, wearing blue trousers, a wool jacket and a kind of brown bag.
He came closer and bent down to see if the woman was still breathing. When he saw her thorax rise, he began to shake her shoulder. "What about you? You can't lie here!" But she didn't react. What should he do now? He shook her again, this time more roughly and shouted at her: "Wake up woman!" Without further ado, Brother Erland went back to the sacristy and came back with a clay jug. He poured the water in a high arc on the young woman and indeed, she slowly came to.
Gwynna suddenly felt wetness on her face and she began to cough violently. She struggled for air, her arm, which had been bent under her upper body, stretched out and her hand palpated a cold stone floor. She slowly opened her eyes, raised her head and faced a middle-aged man in a brown frock who spoke up loudly to her. At first she understood nothing, but then his words made sense. Was that Latin? She had always loved languages and in Latin she had been the best in her class. Gwynna supported herself with her arms so that she could continue to straighten up to look the man, obviously a monk, in the face.
"Where am I?" she asked, her voice sounded hoarse and scratchy.
"Child, you are in my church. Where are you from? Why are you dressed like that? You're wearing men's clothes, the women aren't allowed to do that."
"What year do we have? What country?" Gwynna sat up completely and crossed her legs cross-legged. Her head boomed and her eyes were still sensitive to light, so she closed them short.
"It is the year of the Lord 1510 and you are in Saxony. Have you lost your memory? Can you remember your name?"
"M-my name is Gwendolyn. I'm looking for my Uncle Cedric."
"Cedric?" So the young woman was not a simple village girl, because Cedric had been a well-read man and she obviously understood Latin. Brother Erland stared at her. She was a relative of the healer, whose maltreated body had been found three weeks ago in the middle of the village square. Pity overtook him as he looked at the young woman. In her condition to transmit this message, he did not bring over the heart. He stepped up to Gwynna.
"Come on, I'll help you up. You'll get yourself killed if you sit on the rocks. I had to pour water over you to make you come to." Gwynna noticed now that her hair was wet and the wool jacket hung on her like a rag.
"Tell me where Cedric is, Father..." "Brother Erland I am called, my child." He took her arm and pulled Gwynna up until she stood before him on wobbly legs.
"I'll take you to our village elder first, then we'll see everything else. Come on."
Brother Erland pushed Gwynna towards the door. She could take a few steps with shaky legs, but felt terribly weak and exhausted and had to hold on to Brother Erland.
The church was situated directly on the village square, where now towards dusk the peace slowly returned. A wagon bumped past, pulled by a tired donkey, and a few children tried to escape their grumbling mothers, who wanted to bring them into the houses for supper. Brother Erland took Gwynna with him to one of the larger stone houses whose windows were already locked. He and the strangely dressed girl were followed by the glances of the remaining villagers.
Gwynna still felt dizzy. Her thoughts circulated wildly. She had noticed that the monk knew her uncle, but why had he not answered her question? She looked at him, but Brother Erland avoided her eyes. Instead, he tried to tell her something about the village, but Gwynna didn't listen to him.
"Konrad has been our village elder since the death of his father two years ago. He's a merchant. He's brought some prosperity. He was able to multiply it by marrying the daughter of a cloth maker. Both are pious people and I'm sure they'll be happy to help you, my child."
Arriving at the house, he slammed his hand against the front door until a young girl, dressed in coarse brown woolen fabric with a beige apron, her brown hair wrapped in a plait around the back of her head, opened it to them.
"Gret," he said to the girl who looked at him with blunt blue eyes, "go to your mistress and tell her brother Erland has come with a guest." The girl curtsied and let them in. She stared at Gwynna.
"That's the maid," he remarked to Gwynna as they walked through the door. Behind it was a dark hallway. They followed the girl to a wooden door. Gret opened it and said to the person who was obviously there:
"Madam, this is the priest Erland. He wants to see you."
"Shall enter," a female voice sounded.
Gret stood next to the open door and waved her hand into the room. Brother Erland went first and Gwynna followed him. As she stepped through the door, she found herself in a wood-panelled room with coarse carpets on the walls to soften the cold of the stone walls. A fire was burning in a fireplace. The lady of the house sat at a small wooden table with several candles on it and embroidered a large cloth. Next to her sat an eight-year-old girl, unmistakably her daughter, and also embroidered part of the cloth in the light of the candle. The wooden shutter was still a gap open to let in the last light of the day. Until now, windows made of bull's-eye panes were only available in the church.
Absildis rose. She wore a simple dress of dark blue wool fabric, with a laced bodice from which the white undershirt protruded, and a bonnet lined with lace at the edge, covering almost all of her hair. Except for a gold wedding ring, she didn't wear any jewelry. She was clearly smaller than Gwynna and reached just up to her shoulder. Her daughter looked with big eyes at the new arrivals. She also wore a dress of dark blue wool, a white apron and had her long light brown hair open and parted in the middle.
"Brother Erland. What a pleasure to welcome you here. My husband left for business this morning. So I'm the only one here, but maybe I can help you too? If you've come for the altar cloth - you see, we're eagerly working on it, but it will take a while." She smiled nicely, increasing the wrinkles under her eyes, and offered the priest a place at the table. Then she looked at Gwynna and said something Gwynna didn't understand. Brother Erland translated. "She welcomes you. You may sit as well."
So they both sat down at the table. A short time later Gret came with a tray on which stood a jug of warm spiced wine and three wooden cups. She put everything on the table and disappeared. Absildis took the jug and filled the cups for her guests and herself.
Since Absildis could not speak Latin, she and Erland spoke Old German, so that Gwynna could only sit next to it in silence. She felt the child's eyes on her and looked at her, whereupon the little one turned red and devoted herself again to her embroidery.
"Madam Absildis, I found this young woman in my church today. She seems to be a relative of the healer Cedric, for she asked about him and his whereabouts."
"Did you tell her what happened?" Absildis asked with a raised forehead.
"No, she didn't appear to me in the condition to take such a message."
"And why do you bring her to us? You know how my husband felt about Cedric. He banished him from the village."
"I know, but I didn't know what to do with her. She can't stay in the church, she doesn't even speak our language. I can only communicate with her in Latin. She couldn't stay with the ordinary people of the village. Look at her."
Absildis took a deep sip from her cup.
"I see what you mean. Those clothes. Strange. I have heard, however, that Cedric appeared here in a very similar way the first time. And yet he's proved very useful. My father-in-law thought highly of him."
Brother Erland also drank from the cup and nodded to Gwynna to do the same. The wine was sweet and the spices made it pleasant and warm. Gwynna noticed immediately how her tension was released.
"Madam Absildis, I feel obliged to help her. We could give her her uncle's old shack, but I'm afraid it's not habitable right now. Moreover, one would first have to bring our life habits close to her, if she wanted to stay here and then the clothes... She needs decent women's clothes. Not those man pants." Brother Erland turned up his nose.
"You ask a lot, but you know that if you vouch for her, she shall be welcome in my house until she can live her own life. Maybe she is well versed in healing arts, because we urgently need a healer, the barber can only pull teeth and nothing else. See if there's anything she can do to help. The more likely the villagers would accept her in our midst. As for the clothes... "Absildis looked at Gwynna insistently," it won't be that easy. She's bigger than most of the women in the village, so she couldn't get a ready-made dress, that wouldn't cover her. I'd have to have a dress sewn for her."
Brother Erland looked at her expectantly: "I'm sure you'll find a solution. Maybe she can work off the cost of a dress for you." He drank the last sip of wine in his cup and looked at the jug until Absildis poured the rest for him.
"She can sleep in the chamber with Gret meanwhile. We'll put another straw sack in it."
"Thank you, Madam Absildis. If you will permit me, I will pass on our plans to the young woman, Gwendolyn, by the way."
Brother Erland finally turned to Gwynna and told her in detail what he had discussed with the lady of the house and that she should live in this house for the time being and help Absildis.
"Of course you can always contact me, dear child, if you have any questions." Brother Erland patted Gwynna's and gave a relieved impression that he had surrendered this burden. However, he had not expected Gwynna's reaction.
"Yes, Brother Erland, I have a question. You still haven't told me where my uncle is. And I don't want to hear any more excuses!" Gwynna raised her voice and looked at the monk angrily.
He jerked together and also Absildis and her daughter looked confused at the outburst of feeling of her strange guest.
"Well, I uh, I thought you'd rest for a while and we'd discuss everything tomorrow," Brother Erland said in an uncertain voice.
"No! Now! Or I'll leave the house immediately and find him myself!"
Gwynna jumped up and wanted to storm to the door when Erland grabbed her by the arm and told her to sit down again.
He sighed. How he would have liked to have given this task to someone else. At least Gwynna seemed more stable to him now to hear such a message than before.
"All right." Sigh. "My dear child, you must be brave now. Because I have sad news for you. Your uncle is no more. He died about three weeks ago and was buried in the churchyard. I'm sorry."
Gwynna believed that the floor under her feet would be pulled away. She looked at the monk in horror:
"How is that possible? Was he sick? All of a sudden? Was it an accident? In the woods? What happened? What happened? For God's sake, say something!"
Brother Erland looked towards Absildis, who barely shook her head before he replied: "I can't tell you exactly what happened. To your question, yes, it was probably an accident. They found him bleeding heavily in the woods and brought him here. But he was already deceased, so we couldn't ask him any more." He bowed his head. "May his soul rest in peace."
Gwynna closed her eyes when she noticed tears running down her face. That's why he didn't come, her uncle was dead! And she had travelled in vain to this time and was now all alone. She cried softly as Absildis stood up, stepped behind her and put her hand compassionately on her shoulder.
"Poor girl." She said to Brother Erland, "Do not tell her that the Count killed him. Not that she gets any ideas. And nothing from the blacksmith's daughter either. You know, Bedila, who was brought with him. It's dangerous for them to meet the Count. She's a pretty girl and he'd notice her right away. And you know what happens then."
Absildis turned to the door, opened it and shouted, "Gret!"
After a few minutes the maid appeared in the door.
"Mistress?"
"Bring our guest Gewndolyn to your chamber and fetch a straw sack and a blanket for her. And a plate of bread and cheese if she's hungry. Tomorrow morning, you'll go to Agnes the seamstress. Tell her to come and fit her a dress. Do you understand me?"
"Of course, mistress." Gret curtsied and went to Gwynna to make gestures to mean coming with her.
Gwynna stood up and looked over to Brother Erland, who had now also stood up, wiping her tear-wet eyes with the back of her hand.
"Go with her, child. And try to sleep. Tomorrow a seamstress will come and take your measurements for a dress. See you soon, Gwendolyn."
And so the monk bowed to Absildis and quickly left the house, while the three women and the child silently looked at each other.
Finally Gwynna followed the maid up the stairs to the first floor and then a steep staircase to the attic. Gret lit a candle in front of her. On the top floor, Gret had a small chamber with a window whose shutters were locked, a straw sack, a small table and a cupboard for her belongings. She meant Gwynna to sit on the straw sack and disappeared again, so that the chamber was immersed in darkness. Some time later she came back and pulled a kind of straw mattress covered with coarse cloth behind her and laid it on the floor next to her own bed. Then she put the candle on the table and took a scratchy blanket out of the closet.
Gret got rid of her simple dress and apron and climbed onto her mattress, dressed only in her shirt. She waited for Gwynna to undress as well, but she only got rid of her jacket and shoes and crawled under the blanket. Gret said something else to her which was supposed to mean "good night" and blew out the candle. Soon you could hear Gret's quiet snoring, while Gwynna stayed awake for a long time and thought about what had happened to her. Eventually she was overcome by sleep.