The Scribe



When she told Helga what the monk had said, the woman could hardly believe her ears.

“I doubt the apothecary has good intentions,” she said.

“What do you mean?”

“Wake up, lass. Bad intentions, toward you.”

“He seemed honest. He didn’t eat the pie himself but gave it to the novices.”

“Who knows, he could have just eaten and been stuffed already.”

“But he’s thin as a rake!” Theresa said with a nervous laugh. “What kind of job do you think it could be?”

“Well, if the apothecary behaves like a good Christian, perhaps he will employ you as a maidservant. Monks may do a lot of praying, but they’re dirty as pigs. Or you might be lucky and he’ll employ you as a cook, which wouldn’t do you any harm, for you could put on a pound or two. But if you want me to be honest, there are dozens of lasses prepared to clean latrines, so I don’t understand his interest in hiring such a prissy young woman. So tread carefully and watch your backside.”

Theresa and Helga spent the rest of the morning cooking and tidying the tavern. In the main room there were several barrels that served as tables, some stools, a long bench, and a drape to separate the customers from the kitchen. By the fireplace they arranged an iron stove, two trivets, various pans and skillets, a stewpot, wooden spatulas, some chipped pitchers and jars, and an array of tankards and plates, stacked and ready to be washed with the water from the well. Helga explained she kept the wine in the loft, since it was frequently pilfered when stored in the kitchen. She plied her other trade in the storeroom, which was located at the back—half animal pen, half henhouse.

At midday they ate some of the food they had prepared to serve in the hostelry, and their conversation turned again to the events at the monastery earlier that morning. When they finished their meal, Helga proposed going to the main square to see The Swine, a prisoner accused of a terrible crime. She suggested they do their hair and amuse themselves watching the youngsters throw cabbages and turnips at him, and on the way they could buy some perfume to scent their bodies. Theresa accepted the invitation, and singing softly to themselves they left for the market square.





12

Though the blows dealt by the guards had turned The Swine’s body into a mass of battered flesh, his wrinkled, beardless face that gave him his nickname could still be made out. The man was curled up on his knees, tied to a plank of wood and guarded by two men armed with swords. Theresa thought he must be a half-wit, for his little eyes were trembling in fear, as though he were trying to understand what was happening to him. A crowd surrounded the captive, threatening and cursing him. A boy attempted to set a dog on him, but the animal turned and ran away.

Helga bought a couple of ales from a peddler and looked for some place where they could watch the spectacle, but several women were pointing fingers at her, so she finally decided to retreat somewhere more discreet. “He was born an idiot, but for thirty years nobody imagined he could be dangerous,” she told Theresa, leaning against a wall.

“Dangerous? What happened?”

“He had never made any trouble before. But last week they found the girl he had a habit of pestering, naked and sprawled out on the riverbank. He’d cut her throat.”

Theresa could not help but remember the incident when the Saxons had tried to violate her. She drank her beer quickly and asked Helga if they could go home. The woman reluctantly agreed. It had been a long time since a murderer in Fulda had been taught a lesson, but she would settle for enjoying the celebrations on execution day.

On the way back they stopped to buy the fragrances that Helga used when she plied her trade. She chose a flask of pine-scented perfume and another more intense scent similar to incense. Instead of charging Helga for the perfume, Theresa noticed the merchant wink at her and arrange to see her later on.

In the afternoon two drunks visited the tavern, drinking cheap wine until they ran out of money. After they left, Theresa suggested to Helga that they visit the monastery to check on Hoos, but Helga advised her to wait until the appointment with the apothecary the next morning. A little later on, three young men turned up at the hostelry, ate some dinner, laughed among themselves, and left. Soon afterward five laborers arrived, stinking of sweat and eager for food. They sat near the fire, ordered copious amounts of beer and joked about which of the two women would be the first to end up with her underskirt around her ankles. After serving them some food, Helga left Theresa in charge of the kitchen and went out in search of some friends, for they would soon be needed. She returned arm in arm with two women, also plastered in makeup and dressed in colorful clothes. Upon arriving they sat on the laborers’ laps, yelping and laughing as the men caressed them. One of them slid his hand under a skirt and the woman feigned a squeal. Another man, already the worse for drink, offered his girl a swig of wine and spilt it down her cleavage, but the young woman, far from scolding him, responded by showing him a breast.

That was when Theresa decided it was time to withdraw, but one of the laborers noticed her leaving and stood in her way. Fortunately, Helga placated him by whispering in his ear and promising him a night of abandon. Then she told Theresa to go to the storeroom and shut herself in the wine store.


Theresa soon discovered that a brothel’s wine store was not a good place to spend a peaceful night. From the attic she could see the corner that one of the laborers had chosen to have a woman kneel and bring his member back to life. When the tart had achieved this, the man pushed her head away, positioned himself between her legs, and began to pump his backside up and down vigorously. Then he gave a couple of jerks and cursed the prostitute before slumping onto her pale body.

Before long Helga came in accompanied by the perfume merchant. The two of them laughed when they saw the other couple asleep on top of each other. The merchant made as if to wake them up, but Helga stopped him. They started to fondle each other on a nearby bed, and Theresa was thankful they at least covered themselves with a cloak that hid their bodies from view.

When she finally managed to sleep, Theresa dreamed of Hoos. He appeared naked—as did she. He stroked her hair, her neck, and her breasts—caressing her entire body. A strange feeling woke and alarmed Theresa. When she calmed down, she asked God to forgive her for sinning in such a way.


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