The same that flickered in Christyne’s own middle. Clare had not named the man a heretic. She had not cried out for his blood. Did her sympathies lie with those that followed their conscience, or did she, like Christyne’s father, remain loyal to Pope Clement, Emperor Charles, and the Roman Catholic Church?
The woman upon her bed sighed. “You are wise not to trust easily. Pray tell, did your father inform you as to how our betrothal came to be?”
Christyne cleared her throat. “I assume by the manner in which these things often happen. He offered for you.”
Clare barked a humorless laugh. “Nay. 'Tis punishment to my father and reward to yours.”
“Pardon?”
“The Diet of Speyer. Did you hear of it?”
She thought back. Her father did not inform her of the workings of their state nor the empire as a whole. What she knew, she’d gathered through Hette and what the maid overheard from the servants, or what she herself could stumble upon through straining her ears past closed doors. Though she knew of the imperial city of Speyer, she had not been made aware of a Diet taking place in that city.
“The Edict of Worms? Surely you have heard of that at least?”
Christyne nodded, though with the lack of light, the other woman may not have seen the slight movement to indicate her answer. “An edict by the emperor sentencing Martin Luther to death and outlawing both the man and his writings.”
“As well as penalizing any who are found to be in possession of his writings. Unfortunately, the emperor has had a difficult time enforcing his edict. Martin Luther still lives and breathes, and his works spread like a plague. His Majesty’s words, not my own, I assure you.”
“And the Diet of Speyer?”
“Another of the emperor’s attempts to enforce his edict. Alas, he could not attend this meeting, and thus Archduke Ferdinand of Austria, the emperor’s younger brother, you know, presided over the meeting. It was there my own father and some of the other princes who had been secretly following the new teachings openly professed their beliefs.”
Christyne sucked in a breath. This, then, was how some of their neighboring princes had decided to lead their people in a way other than Roman Catholicism. She had wondered, but her musings had never been answered until this moment.
“Because of the unrest with the Turks as well as the tension between the emperor and Pope Clement, princes such as Philip of Hesse and John, the Elector of Saxony stepped forward with their declaration of conscience. These princes went against the emperor’s wishes for the Edict of Worms to be enforced and heretics and rebellions be snuffed out. Instead, they negotiated that each prince should order worship in his state according to his own conscience.”
“And your father was among these princes?”
She inclined her head. “As told.”
“Then…”
“As a reward to your father for remaining loyal to him, Emperor Charles decreed my father surrender his daughter to unite with the house of Heidelbraum.”
Christyne closed the distance between them and lowered herself beside Clare on the bed.
The other woman squared her shoulders. “Do not look upon me with such pity. I do not confess to know the Lord’s ways, but I trust that He will be with me even here.” She leaned forward. “And now, mayhap, I have stumbled upon my purpose in your land. Tell me, are you aiding the man for whom the Duke of Schlestein searches?”
Could she trust this woman and her story? More light filtered into the chamber, night releasing its charge to day. A changing of the guard. Dare she let down her own?
“I only wish to help. Even now, your father may be rousing the mercenaries to fox out those hiding in the wood beyond.”
Christyne closed her eyes and breathed out an assent.
“What are we to do?”
Christyne opened her eyes. Clare’s own, shining with purpose, infused her bones with steel. “I had not thought that far ahead.”
The other lady’s mouth pulled to the side. “How did your path manage to cross with that of the fleeing dissenter?”
“I disguised myself as a maid to get past the castle walls and stumbled upon Lorenz in the woods.”
Clare released her lips from the prison of her teeth and smiled. “Have your ears been tickled by the tale ofJunkerJörg?”
How would a knight help them in this situation? Did this woman think to send for him to aid them? “Nay.”
Clare’s gray eyes flashed with amusement. “He is none other than Martin Luther himself. After the Edict of Worms, the scholar’s life was all but forfeit. Frederick the Wise sent guards dressed as highwaymen to overtake his coach traveling to Wittenberg. They escorted him to Wartburg castle instead, where he took on the name Junker Jörg and pretended to be a knight. He remained hidden for ten months, translating the Holy Scriptures into the German language.”
