The next morning Gret started her daily program already at 5 o'clock. When she got up from bed, she ripped open the wooden shutters so that cold air and the brightness of the morning streamed into the chamber. Then she put on her long stockings, the dress over her head and straightened the bodice which was laced at the front. Finally she tied an apron around herself, combed her stringy hair and braided it into a braid that was tied to the back of her head with a wooden comb. Then she grabbed the plate of bread and cheese that Gwynna had spurned the night before and went over it, smacking extra loud so Gwynna would wake up. Finally she poked noisily into her teeth with a straw before slipping into her shoes and slamming the door shut as she left the chamber.
Gwynna had waited with closed eyes until the maid left the room to rise. She froze pathetically and felt dirty. How she longed for a hot shower! But she would probably have to do without it in the future if she stayed here any longer. The thought, of course, was to return to her time now that Cedric was no longer alive. She looked for her bag, which was lying in a corner, and rummaged for the herbs and the book. To her horror, she found that Brother Erland's water attack yesterday had seriously damaged the book. Some pages were baked together, the writing partly smeared and therefore no longer legible. "Damn, the book's ruined. She tried to carefully solve the side with the spell at the back, but quickly gave up when the side ran the risk of tearing. She had to let the book dry first. Maybe then you could pull the pages apart. The herbs were fortunately protected in the plastic bags and undamaged.
Gwynna ran his hands makeshift through his hair. She didn't have a comb or braces with her, so that it flowed freely over her back. Then she put on her jacket and shoes and finally left the chamber in the attic. On the first floor seemed to be the premises of the landlord and his family. There was still dead silence, because the servants usually rose one to two hours before the reign. So Gwynna went down the next stairs and found her way to the chamber where she had been yesterday. The room was dark, the shutters still tightly closed, so she decided, after a look into the room, to explore the house further. To the left of the chamber was another door. When Gwynna opened it, she heard a soft babble of voices and the rattling of crockery.
She walked down the hall and finally stood in a spacious kitchen where a small roundish woman stood by the stove and stirred in a pot, while the maid Gret spoke to her and immediately fell silent when she saw Gwynna enter. The door to the courtyard opened and a large man with red cheeks, grey hair and beard entered the kitchen. He carried a half of a pig over his shoulder. He stopped for a moment, looked at the strange young woman from top to bottom and then disappeared towards a chamber behind the kitchen. The old woman at the stove turned back to her pot and continued to stir while she threw spices into the pot with one hand. Gret looked at Gwynna contemptuously. What was that crazy woman doing in her house? How could she walk around like that? She wasn't an honorable woman, the maid thought, stood up and pushed herself past Gwynna to the door.
Gwynna felt lost, as she didn't know whether she should go or stay. As long as the landlady hadn't appeared, there was nothing she could do. She could have walked through the village and explored everything, but she didn't want to attract more attention than she already did. So she sat down at a long wooden table on the bench and looked around. The stove was large and blackened with soot. Here, too, a fire was burning. The skewers leaning against the wall next to it indicated the use as grill skewers. On one wall stood a large shelf with numerous pots and pans. Then came the door to the courtyard through which the man had just walked. He already came back and had the woman present pay him some coins before he disappeared greeting. Gwynna suspected it had been the village butcher.
The old woman now tasted the contents of the large pot, threw in herbs again and seemed satisfied. She took a small wooden bowl from the wall shelf and a wooden spoon and scooped something from the pot into it and brought the filled bowl to Gwynna sitting at the table. With a wave of her hand she asked her to eat and then went back to the stove.
Gwynna took the spoon and shoved it into the bowl. It seemed to be a kind of stew with green vegetables, carrots, cereals and one or two pieces of meat. Anyway, it was hot and Gwynna suddenly realized how hungry she was. She put the spoon in and lifted it to her mouth. She had to blow a few times until the temperature was comfortable and swallowed the contents down. She tasted green beans, cabbage, various herbs and probably also salad. It tasted unusual but not bad at all. Soon she eagerly spooned out the rest of the stew until there was no crumb left in the bowl. The warmth that flowed through her was pleasant and Gwynna sighed contentedly.
Just as she was finished, Gret came back and waved at her to follow her. She led them into the lady's chamber, whose windows were now wide open and letting the fresh air in. The housewife was already waiting. This time she wore a dark grey dress with blue lacing on the bodice and embroidery on the sleeves. A long thin gold chain adorned her neck. On her head she wore the same bonnet as the day before. She smiled nicely as she became aware of the young woman. "Good morning, Gwendolyn. I hope you slept well? I hope Gret didn't wake you up too early."
Gwynna understood nothing but her name and just nodded. She now wanted Brother Erland back, with whom she could at least talk. Absildis noticed that her guest didn't understand a word, so she gestured to her that she should take a seat on a chair.
Gwynna sat down at the table again when the little girl from yesterday came in and was greeted by her mother with a kiss on her forehead. "This is my daughter Fulcrada. She's eight. My son Gebhard is travelling with his father. I have an older daughter from my first marriage who is brought up in a monastery and soon comes to visit. Gret! Gret! Bring the morning soup!" Gret dragged a large bowl with the soup and smaller bowls and cups. Spoons of pewter, a beer mug and freshly baked bread, Absildis filled the bowls for her daughter and her guest, although Gwynna thankfully refused, as she had already eaten and had beer in the cups.
Gwynna took a sip of the beer. It tasted sweeter than she was used to. Of course she would have preferred to have had a coffee, but unfortunately it did not exist at that time. So she drank the cup slowly and took a spoon of the stew in between so as not to be rude. This family seemed to eat well and regularly. No one seemed emaciated or malnourished.
After a while, when the women had eaten in silence, the door was knocked and Gret came in: "Mistress, the seamstress has come to take the measurements."
"Oh, yeah, well, hurry on in with her." ‚The sooner Gwendolyn had adequate clothing, the sooner she could be officially presented to the village community,' she thought.
Gwynna looked up and saw an old woman step into the room. She had a pronounced hump and the snow-white hair stood wild around her head. She wore a dark green cape over her dress, which she opened in the room and handed it over to the maid. Then she bowed to the landlady: "Madam Absildis, you have called me ? Has your daughter grown again? Or shall it be something for you?" She did not notice Gwynna sitting at the table.
"No Agnes, I ask you for a dress for our guest. Her name is Gwendolyn and she's Cedric's niece."
"Oh my goodness!" the old woman exclaimed with dismay and turned her eyes to Gwynna. "Does she know that the Count...!" The old woman fell silent.
"She knows that Cedric is no longer alive. She doesn't understand our language. Only Brother Erland can communicate with her in Latin. So you don't have to be afraid. Nevertheless, you should rather not mention the count." Absildis took a cup of beer and handed it to the seamstress.
"Gwendolyn needs a dress and a cape outside. Now that it's getting colder, it's more like something warm."
"And who's gonna pay for all this? Did Cedric leave her anything?"
"I don't know, but he shouldn't have had much. I'll pay for it. Cedric helped us a lot free of charge, even when Fulcrada was so seriously ill years ago that I thought we would lose her. But Cedric cured her and I should give his niece something back."
Gwynna had been following the conversation the whole time. Now the old woman put her brought basket on the floor, stepped up to Gwynna, grabbed her arm and pulled her up. "Now come, my little dove, and let me look at you." She pushed Gwynna into the middle of the room and then walked around her.
"Pretty grown, pretty tall, pretty hair;" Agnes mumbled and then pulled a tape measure out of her basket. "She will break the hearts of the village lads. Believe me!"
"But no, Agnes, I don't think she'd be a suitable partner for the village lads." Absildis probably shook his head. "I imagine her more as a healer. So is her uncle. Where else could she get Latin?"
"Was it true, but as a woman alone here? Without protection ? With what's in the castle? For the rabid guys and the count, she'd be the ideal prey."
"Agnes!" called Absildis disgusted. She didn't like it when noble gentlemen were badly spoken of. Even if they did not come from the region, they had inherited rights with their position and this included taking women who belonged to the common people.
"The men in the castle are all single. Even the count has not married a lady yet. Of course they take advantage of the opportunities. And we all know that Bedila was no longer a blank page. What was she doing in the woods?"
"Madam Absildis, you are too indulgent. It wasn't just Bedila. Two months ago, the farmer's daughter, you know who supplies you with cabbage, was raped by one of the northmen. And the count himself took a girl from the neighbouring village. I understand she was tortured and abused. Since then, she's lost her mind." The old woman kept chatting as she took the measurements. She made no notes at all, but seemed to store everything in her memory. Gwynna hated it when people talked and she didn't understand anything. She felt completely superfluous. She wanted to know what they were talking about in such detail. She decided to leave the house later and search for Brother Erland.
After all, the old lady was finally finished. "What color for the dress?" Absildis looked at Gwynna: "I think grey for the dress and dark green for the cape. Make it a hood."
"As you wish. God be with you, Madam Absildis!" And gone was the seamstress.
Gwynna pointed to the door and pointed to the church to make Absildis understand what she wanted. She nodded. "Yes, of course. Go to Brother Erland, you can talk to him."
So Gwynna went from the house back to the church. Brother Erland stood at a desk in the sacristy and read the Bible when Gwynna entered.
"My child!" he said in surprise. I didn't think you'd be back so soon."
"Sorry to bother you, but I'd like to see my uncle's grave." Gwynna felt her tears rise again.
"Of course, I'll show you." Brother Erland stood up and Gwynna followed him to the back of the sacristy. Behind the door was the small cemetery of the village. At the outermost end there were two fresh mounds of earth with simple wooden crosses without names. He pointed to the right hill. "There lies Cedric." "And the grave next to it?"
"Uh, this is Bedila, the blacksmith's daughter. She too died recently."
Gwynna went to her uncle's grave and laid her hand on the ground. Tears ran down her face. She whispered, "I'm so sorry, Cedric. You died here alone and we had just found each other again."
Brother Erland said a short prayer. Then Gwynna rose and both marched back to the church. In the sacristy, Gwynna took a seat in a chair, while Brother Erland went back to his reading desk, where the open Bible lay.
"Please tell me about the village. The story of who lives here, etc."
"I'd love to. The village has been around for four hundred years. We are under the reign of the Count von Krohn. There are fifteen villages in the surrounding area that also belong to him. Two farms belong to our village. The children receive Bible lessons from me, because there is no school here yet. Cedric was our healer, but the village elder had driven him away." "Why?"
"It was noticeable that despite his twenty years with us, he showed no natural aging. Konrad suspected him of being in league with the devil and banished him."
"There's one barber left now who can pull teeth and straighten broken joints, but he's a right bungler. Then we have the midwife and the blacksmith. Once a week there is a market, and traders come from farther away to offer their goods. Meanwhile the village elder has good contacts in many cities. So it's going ahead."
"And the count?"
"The Lord lives in his castle, half an hour's walk from here. "He rarely comes to see us, which some people don't blame at all."
"Why, what about him?"
Well, he's a man from far away. He killed the lord of the castle and took possession of his land. He killed every living soul in the castle. Not only the count, also his wife, the two sons, the castle chaplain, all servants. He's scary. Huge in shape, just like his war horse and his sword. As long as we pay the taxes on time, he won't make any trouble. You see his men occasionally in the village tavern. You have to be careful of them. There are usually four to seven men: two blonde Vikings Einar and Aegir, then Wido and Arnulf, two Franks, and Alfred, Bernulf and Brandolf. But that's not all of them. But we don't see the other henchmen here.
"The men drink here in the tavern ? And the Count isn't?"
"Very rarely. And if he is, he's up to something. Usually not a good sign. The last time he visited the blacksmith, he said that horseshoes had been badly forged. He just bent it and beat the blacksmith with it."
"Oh, my God. What a monster."
"I know. But he is our master. We must endure it. Otherwise, he'll let us live. But as a woman alone... child promises me not to go alone into the forest and certainly not to his castle." Erland looked at her seriously. "There in the woods, he often hunts."
"I understand. I'll be careful, I promise," Gwynna said.
"I'd like to know where I can live once I get settled in. I'm a doc…uh a healer and I'd like to work here as a... healer."
"Cedric's old shack at the end of the village I'd say. I can show it to you, but it would have to be repaired first."
"I'd love to. Can we go right now?"
Gwynna was happy to see a place where Cedric had lived so long.
But the sight of the hut made her disillusionated. The door was missing, the shutters were only in fragments and the wooden floor was covered with leaves, dust and dirt. The roof was leaking and all the furniture was missing.
"Don't worry," Erland said when he saw Gwynna's horrified expression on her face, "we'll fix it up so you can live in it. I assume his belongings are in Cedric's cabin in the woods. We can get them."
"Then I'll go with you. I want to see what else he had. Which might be valuable to me."
"All right, Gwendolyn, but not now. Now you have to learn our language and get used to it. And then we'll see."
And so Gwynna's time in this village began at the beginning of the 16th century.