Beloved Pilgrim Read Free Page A

tired I get in the winter." Adalberta shook her head
almost imperceptibly at her daughter, begging her not to say more.
"It is March. With the spring I will grow strong again."
    She continued to watch her mother as the men
talked excitedly of their upcoming adventure.
    Elisabeth gazed at her mother. Adalberta del
Luzio of Lombardy had never been strong, and the midwife told her
that giving birth to her twins had weakened her further. The
children, as they grew, were used to a mother who did not stir much
from the manor, staying quiet and taking to her bed often. The
twins were each other's support, as Sigismund was often away in one
of the Holy Roman Emperor's frequent wrangling battles with the
Pope. Elisabeth spent all the time she could with her brother,
playing at boys' games, ultimately begging him to impart all he
learned from his weapons master when they were old enough for Elias
to be trained. Their mother tried to teach the girl the feminine
arts of needlework and to instruct her in seemly comportment, but
the moment the ailing woman took to her chambers, Elisabeth was out
like a shot looking for her twin and diligently mastering every
masculine skill he gained.
    They were accustomed to their mother's
retiring life, but Elisabeth thought her mother had become paler of
late. She had frequent debilitating headaches. Her joints were
swollen and tender. During the occasional periods when Sigismund
was not off serving his Emperor, Adalberta masqueraded as best she
could.
    Looking at her now, her daughter could see
she was lagging. Adalberta leaned to whisper in her husband's ear.
He looked at her sharply, a smile lifting the corners of his lips.
"Are you sure? Are you well enough?"
    Adalberta deftly feigned enthusiasm. "I am,
my lord, and it has been some time."
    Sigismund grinned delightedly. To the company
in the hall he proclaimed, "I and my lady are tired and wish to
seek our bed for a nap." He looked down when a few suggestive
comments came from his men. "My love, go on up to our chamber. I
would speak with our daughter." He kissed his wife on the cheek as
she rose and made her way to the stairs.
    He watched his wife's retreating figure, then
gestured to his daughter. "My dear, I have some excellent tidings
for you. Come with me."
    Elisabeth was already focused on her father,
wondering what it was he had to tell her. Now she stood, exchanged
puzzled looks with her twin brother, and followed their father to
where he stopped near the foot of the stairs Adalberta had mounted.
"Yes, Papa?" she asked.
    Sigismund hesitated, unsure how his daughter
would take the news he had brought her. "Liebchen, you are almost
sixteen now, a woman. Your mother and I have neglected plans for
your future."
    Elisabeth eyed him warily.
    "I have betrothed you to a fine man, a
Freiherr of the Duke of Bavaria, I think you know him."
    Elisabeth's face went white. "Oh no, Papa,
please! I do not wish to marry."
    Resigned, Sigismund looked sternly into the
girl's eyes. "But you must. Unless of course, you wish to take the
veil. I did not think so," he went on when she recoiled at the
suggestion. "You will need a home and children like any other
woman, and I have chosen a man of noble blood and excellent
reputation who will provide for you and protect you."
    Elisabeth stared, unbelieving. "Wh-who?"
    "The Baron Reinhardt von Linkshändig. You
remember some years ago when he came here?"
    "B-but I thought he was married!" she
stammered.
    Sigismund put an arm around her and looked at
the rushes on the floor. "He was. He lost his wife in childbed.
Actually, both of his wives. He is twice a widower." He raised his
head to look compassionately into her eyes. "My darling, he is a
good man, a great knight and loyal subject of the Emperor. He is
going on the pilgrimage with me. Now promise you will think about
this, pray about it, and see the wisdom in it. Your brother will
marry and his wife will not want a spinster sister about. And you
will want a household