Germany -- History -- Late Middle Ages, 1254-1517 -- Fiction
In vain my friend and brother tried to draw back to the gruesome
crush of his co-sufferers. The sword that had stood between him
and the world outside the hospice of Saint John had no power here
to protect him. In vain the grey-haired leper mother threw herself
in Mechthild's way and tried to push her back with outstretched arms.
In vain her relatives, her parents and her brothers rushed up to
her. No-one was able to hold Mechthild back. She advanced with a
firm step and placed both her arms on the shoulders of the lost one
and laid her fair pale cheek against the hair shirt covering his
chest. Healthy people drew back in fear whereas the lepers of
Saint John's sick bay pushed forward. Deep silence descended.
"Michael," declared Mechthild. "Michael, look, you hid from me,
but here on the holy ground of my forebears I have won you back for
myself. I knew this moment would come when no power on earth could
stop me. How else could I have put up with life? Will you not now
keep your promise to me, my friend? The promise that you made before
the imperial crown? Today before the same crown, I am reminding you
of it. The earth is on its last legs, but we, you and me, have
survived. You will not drive me from you! You'll not hide any
longer from your bride, from your wife!"
Gently and yet almost wildly and with great panache she threw back
his monk's hood from his brow and for the first time since we had
said goodbye to each other in Castle Karlstein, I once again looked
on my friend's beloved face. The scourge with which God punishes
nations had not been kind to the proud knight and his fine head was
dreadfully impaired. The leprosy that was eating away at his strong
arms and feet and his brave true heart had rendered his face terribly
old and gaunt and consumed all the fire in his eyes. And his hitherto
so solid feet could not support this poor leper longer in his mixture
of misery and unspeakable good fortune. He fell down onto the bright
form of his betrothed and she bent down towards him as if she were
comforting a child.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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