Illuminations: A Novel of Hildegard Von Bingen Read Free Page A

was ripe for marriage, the most beautiful young noblewoman in the Rhineland, so everyone swore, with her auburn hair and cornflower eyes, her slender grace, the necklace of seed pearls and garnets adorning her white throat. But there were rumors—even I had heard the gossip.
Jutta von Sponheim is as mad as a box of frogs.
According to my sister Odilia, this was why Jutta’s family could find her no husband, despite her stunning looks and huge dowry. To make matters worse, Jutta fancied herself a holy woman. Nothing but the religious life would do for her.
    “But why Disibodenberg?” Walburga dared to ask Mother, forgetting her place. “Two young girls given to the monks—it doesn’t seem proper. Surely they’d be better off with the nuns at Schönau.”
    Mother’s reply was icy enough to make me shiver. “Don’t offer your opinions on things you know nothing about.”
    She snatched her prized mirror from Walburga’s hand and set it down on the table.
    “Sweetheart,” she said, turning me in her lap so that we faced each other. “It
is
a great honor to be chosen as Jutta’s companion. You will bring glory to us all. Your father will be so proud when he hears.”
    I ached to tell her that I had no wish to spend the rest of my life with a mad girl no one wanted to marry, but my tongue turned into a plank and I said nothing.
    “You and Jutta von Sponheim.” The smile on Mother’s face allowed me to glimpse the ghost of the lovely woman she had been ages ago, before she had all the babies who had left her as swaybacked as an old plow horse. “The pair of you will be holy virgins who take no husband but Christ Himself. You are lucky, my girl. The chosen one. You know, I wanted a religious life. I begged my parents to let me join holy orders, but instead I was given to your father when I was only thirteen.”
    My eyes prickled in confusion. Was Mother doing me a kindness, then, by banishing me to the monastery? Was this truly a better fate than being married off like other girls?
    “But I don’t want
any
husband,” I told her. “Not even Jesus.”
    “Every girl must take a husband, either mortal or divine,” Mother replied, as though she were stating the plain truth to an idiot.
    “Walburga didn’t!”
    “Walburga is a peasant,” Mother said, with Walburga only a few feet away. “Does a noble falcon share the same destiny as that of a barnyard goose? You were born to grander things than she was.”
    Catching my eye before turning her back on Mother, Walburga’s contempt for my parent filled the room like a bad smell, as though my nurse had let out a fart. I wondered if Mother was terribly wrong, if she was making a mistake so enormous that even the servants saw through her.
     
    The following day Mother rode off to the court of Sponheim to discuss my future with Jutta’s mother, the countess. Blessing of blessings, she whisked away my six beautiful sisters, still unbetrothed owing to their paltry dowries, and left me alone with Rorich and Walburga. The first thing Rorich and I did after solemnly waving good-bye was to sneak out the gate and through the vineyards where the grapevines grew tall enough to hide us. When we reached the forest, we tore around like heathens, beating down nettles with hazel sticks.
    “They’ll be gone for weeks!” I shouted, delirious with happiness.
    What joy could be greater than spending the summer days with Rorich, just the two of us? Rorich was my most beloved sibling. Ten years old, he was close enough in age to be my friend. He hadn’t changed like my sisters had, turning to women before my eyes, abandoning our childhood games as they set their sights on marriage.
    “They’ll be feasting on roasted swan every night in Sponheim,” Rorich said, leading the way to the brook, where he slipped off his shoes, leaving them to lie on the mossy bank.
    “And they’ll dance!” I kicked off my deerskin slippers.
    My brother and I joined hands and threw our noses in the