Chapter 36 Magellan
Magellan
The next morning was filled with quiet tenderness and few words as they dressed and prepared for the day. Magellan’s eyes landed on the diary, lying on top of the satchel. She only had until Winter Solstice to find the women. Now it was almost mid-November, which didn’t leave much time.
Rhys seemed to be thinking the same thing. “We should find Hildegard first and then I’ll finish translating it.”
She nodded, her pulse speeding at the thought of going back outside into a medieval world to find Hildegard of Bingen. She didn’t want to worry about what would happen after she found her, but they had to have a plan in place. Now was the time to make one before they unlocked that door.
“Rhys, after we find Hildegard of Bingen, we have to be prepared.”
“What do you mean?”
“After I met with Fanny, things changed.” She didn’t know how to describe what happened. “Those men who were coming after us when we were on our way to the church. They knew I had the song.”
“But they were thieves from the streets. How could they know?”
“They did. And there were moving shadows on the ground.” She didn’t even want to talk about the hellish sounds that had assaulted her. Within the noise had been a malevolent force seeking to annihilate life.
“You were distressed by the storm,” he reminded her.
“Distressed.” She frowned. Was he seriously trying to downplay what happened? She fought her irritation. They had just made up and she didn’t want to argue again. “What I’m saying is after I get the song’s part, we have to get back to the standing stone right away.”
“Don’t worry. We will,” he reassured her. Magellan nodded, trying to assuage her fears, but the thought of what might happen after she played the song again was terrifying. He didn’t understand. He asked, “So you think she’ll be at Rupertsburg?” as he finished packing up the satchel.
She put her shoes on, the pain from her blisters not as bad this morning. “I think it’s our best bet. I just don’t know how far away it is.”
Rhys put a few more coins into a smaller purse and tucked it into his pants. The larger purse went back into the satchel. “We’ll find her,” he said, slinging the satchel over his shoulder. “Especially given how famous she was in her own time.”
That did give Magellan some hope, because it was true.
All of Europe knew Hildegard of Bingen. She was a living legend, a mystic and musical genius.
Truly one of a kind. Hildegard of Bingen believed in the splendor of being human and the divinity of women.
She was a feminist, freely explaining her beliefs on the mechanics of sex and how Divine Love worked, and declared a woman’s womb to be the most sacred seed on Earth.
She believed ultimate truth lived in music, the language of God.
For it was sound that gave birth to the world.
Of course Hildegard held part of the song.
How could she not? A sense of determination filled Magellan. She and Rhys would find her.
Before they left the room, Rhys gave her a final embrace, belaying his own fear of the outside. “Promise me you’ll be careful today.” He gazed down at her, consumed with worry. “And stay close.”
“I promise.” She wrapped her arms around him and pressed her cheek against his chest. Last night she had listened to his heart beating like a calming metronome as she drifted back to sleep.
When they left the room, Rhys gave the tavern woman several shillings for one more night, just in case they needed the room again.
He cautiously led the way through the market. First, he bought a salted pretzel, smoked sausage, and an assortment of apples to replenish their satchel. Next, they bought wine and ale in sturdy pottery jars with lids Rhys said were called flagons.
“I’d give anything for a glass of water,” she grumbled. This morning they’d finished the flask of water from 1829.
“Only if you want to get sick. It’s undrinkable unless thoroughly boiled. Everyone sticks to ale and wine.”
“Is that why everyone looks drunk?”
“Precisely. Come on.” He led her forward through the throng.
The market looked even more sprawling today, full of traders from all over Europe selling every kind of good imaginable.
Rhys bought a cloth hat and a colorful tunic that fell to his knees.
He slipped it on over his shirt and belted it.
Magellan laughed, and he gave her a rueful look.
She teased him, “You’re looking very with the times, my lord.”
“I look like a squire from a Shakespearean comedy—or tragedy,” he said grimly. At least he wasn’t so conspicuous now.
They continued through the wonderland of stalls with artisans performing metalworking, glass blowing, and wood whittling. “Look!” She pointed at a stall of musical instruments and dragged Rhys over to it by the hand.
A display of medieval violins hung on a thick cord. They were larger than the modern violin and had five strings instead of four. Magellan had never played one before. She’d only seen them in history books.
The man in charge of the booth saw her excitement and asked her a question. She shook her head in apology, signaling she didn’t understand.
“Do you want one?” Rhys asked her.
She shot him a Do you even need to ask? look.
He grimaced. “To replace Oliver’s?”
She laughed. “Oliver’s was a violin and this is a vielle, a more medieval version of the violin. But yes, I need something to play for Hildegard when I see her.” A vielle would do nicely. These instruments were lovely.
Rhys did his best to communicate with the man, but the seller didn’t understand him. He tried another language and the man answered back.
“He speaks Latin,” Rhys told her, excited.
Then the two men were off having a chat.
Magellan was only half listening, busy inspecting the vielles.
The man gestured, encouraging her to try one.
She took it under her chin, deftly adjusting the strings into tune, and played a simple melody. The man applauded with delight.
“He says you play well. I told him you were still learning,” Rhys said with a teasing glint in his eyes. “I asked if he knew Hildegard. You’re right. She is famous. He says she’s here in Frankfurt.”
Magellan turned to him in surprise. It was too much to hope for. “She’s not at one of the abbeys?”
“Frankfurt’s first-ever international fair is going on. She and the other nuns have come for it. Their camp is by the woods.”
After Rhys paid, Magellan tried to convey her thanks to the instrument maker and set off with Rhys hand in hand. “Thank you. I love it.”
They maneuvered through the throng of people until they were at the end of the market, where a huge field stretched to the beginnings of the forest. Various traveling groups and families had erected camps all along the grass.
Magellan scanned the field until her eyes landed on a quiet camp, nestled near the trees. A plain white banner blew in the wind with a rose in the center. Gazing at the banner, for a moment she thought of the roses growing at the center of Rhys’s labyrinth.
Before they went any farther she grabbed hold of his sleeve. “Wait. Just say I do get the song—”
“You will. That is the plan.”
“That’s not my point. Afterward we might need to make a run for it.”
“What do you mean by ‘make a run for it’?”
“To the standing stone.”
His eyes flashed with surprise. “You literally mean for us to run back to the standing stone? You realize how far a distance we would need to traverse, and you have blisters on your poor feet.”
“Forget about my feet. I know you didn’t want to believe me at the inn when I said I was hunted after I got the song.”
Rhys looked around, but no one was paying them any attention. “It’s not that I didn’t believe you, but I do think in that particular moment, your emotions were running away from you.”
“Are you for real right now?”
“What does that mean? I do believe this is real, yes.”
She could feel her frustration growing. “That’s not what I meant. Gwynedd warned us what would happen, and I’m telling you it happened and will happen again!”
Rhys looked embarrassed by her raised voice, but she couldn’t help it.
He said, “Magellan, my love,” his cheeks becoming red.
“The standing stone is a half day’s walk, and I have not seen anywhere to secure an animal.
By the time we get there it will be night, and if the stone doesn’t take us somewhere else, we will be stuck in the wilderness with wild animals and rabid criminals who happen by. ”
She listened to him, wide-eyed. He did have a good point.
“I think the best course is we get the song and go back to our room, which has a door with a lock. We will stay one more night and set out early in the morning.”
She deliberated, still worried. “And what is plan B?”
“Sorry, what is a planby?” He said it as one word.
“No. Plan. B. As in A, B, C, D. We have to have another plan in case we have to make a run for it.”
He hesitated. “Is running something people do a lot in the future? Because you keep referring—”
“OMG. Forget it.” She threw up her hands in surrender. “Let’s just go.” Determined, she took his hand with a firm grip and led the way.