The Golden Braid (9 page)

Rapunzel fought to understand the seemingly random thing he was telling her. Why would you call something a
tay
and something else a
tay
when they looked completely different? Perhaps he was lying to her, trying to confuse her. But she had little choice but to trust him.

“Each letter makes a sound,” he continued. “This letter
tay
sounds the same as these other
tays
. All
tays
make the same sound.”

“Oh. You said this word is ‘Timotheus' and this is a book in the Bible?”

“Yes. Now this word is—”

“Is this written in German? I thought the Bible was only written in Latin.”

“Yes, but occasionally you can find someone who will translate it into German for you.”

She wouldn't tell him, but she was impressed that he would spend his money on Scripture books and then carry them around with him.

“This is not the entire Bible. It is only the parts that were written after Jesus came. I do not have the Old Testament writings in German, except for what is in my Psalter.”

“Is the Bible very expensive?” she asked.

“Yes, and when I have a home of my own, I shall commission a copy of the entire Bible, all the holy writings.”

“But even this much must have been very costly. The illuminations are very bright and color—”

“Yes, now pay attention. This word is “Pavel.” See? It is the first word of the first verse in the first missive to Timotheus.”

“What sound does this letter make?” Rapunzel pointed to the second letter in the word
Timotheus
.

He sighed, then made the sound. He pointed to each letter and made the sound, which might have made her laugh, hearing him saying,
“Tuh, ee, mm, oh, tuh, ee, oo, ss,”
if she had not been afraid of offending him. Then he went back to the beginning of the word and made the sound of each letter, but a bit faster than before.

“So I only have to remember what sound each letter makes and I will be able to read?”

He shrugged and nodded.

She wanted to ask him more questions but forced herself to tuck them away for later.

“The first three words are: ‘Pavel, an apostle.' ”

“Will you teach me the letters?”

“Yes, of course. But I will need something to write on and a writing instrument. I can get those from Brother Andrew. Do you think you can find him?”

Rapunzel jumped up and hurried out. When she found Brother Andrew in the large garden behind the dormitory, he was hoeing around some young plants. He agreed to find the implements they needed, and Rapunzel went back to Sir Gerek's room. She opened the door without knocking, and he gave her a piercing stare. “Do not enter this chamber until you have knocked and have been invited to come in.”

“I was just here, and you knew I was returning, so I didn't think it necessary—”

“Do not do it again. You must not be careless around men. It is very unwise.”

Rapunzel huffed. “If there is one thing I am not,” she said, trying to infuse her voice with cold dignity, “it is careless around men.”

He narrowed his eyes, his brows lowering to create a crease
across his forehead. “Very well.” He continued speaking about the first verse of the missive to Timotheus, but Rapunzel could not understand what he was saying—something about words being put together to form ideas and different words having different meanings, depending on what order they were in or what the words around that word meant. It all sounded like gibberish.

“I think you've made my brain hurt.” Rapunzel rubbed her temple.

“If you don't want to continue, I understand. It will only get more difficult.”

“I will not give up and I
will
learn to read. That is,
if
you are a good enough teacher.”

He gave her that narrow-eyed look again.

Just then, Brother Andrew came in the door—without knocking or announcing himself—and said, “I brought you a slate and some chalk rock. I can probably get someone to make a wax board for you, if you'd rather have that.”

Rapunzel took the small slate, which was about as big as her two hands, and the chalk from Brother Andrew. “Thank you very much.”

“And I can bring you a bit of parchment and a quill, but the abbot is not very free with parchment. It's rather expensive.”

“I have a bit in my supplies,” Sir Gerek said. “I need it so that she can have a permanent copy of the alphabet to memorize.”

After Brother Andrew left, Gerek asked her, “What makes you want to learn to read so badly? Most people never learn.”

“Do you mean most people of my peasant class? Or most women?”

He shrugged. “It is only a question. Why do you want to learn? What use will it be to you?”

He was probably thinking she could have little need for reading. She would probably never even be able to afford a book. “I have a use for it.” But since she had already confessed to him that she liked to make up songs . . . “I wish to write down the words of my songs.”

“Only the words? There is a way to write music as well as words. Did you not know?”

“I did not know.” The blood was rising to her cheeks at how ignorant he must think her, but she was glad to know this. Once she learned to read and write, she would also want to learn to read and write music. She had always wanted to learn to play an instrument, but that had seemed an even less likely dream than learning to read.

The door was darkened again and Brother Andrew stood there, holding out a small square of parchment. “This is a list of the letters in the German language. You may have it if you wish.” And then he was gone again.

Rapunzel stared down at it. She did not know what any of the letters were, except for the
T
.

“I will tell you the sound each letter makes. You will have to memorize them all before you can begin to read.”

“I can do that. I am very good at memorizing.”

He told her very quickly what each letter sounded like. When he asked her to tell which ones she remembered, she got almost all of them correct.

“Very good.” His smug look had disappeared.

He held up the Bible text and asked her to sound out the first few words.

“I already know that the first three words are ‘Pavel, an apostle' because you told me that.” She stared at the words, sounding out each letter. “
Puh. Ah. Vuh. Eh. Ll.
Pavel. I did it! I see how it works now.” Rapunzel did the same with the next two words and was able to sound them out and see how the letters made the words. Then she tried the fourth word. Sir Gerek had to help her with that one since she had already forgotten some of the letters' sounds. Finally, she sounded it out. “
Uh. Vuh. Of. Yuh. Eh. Ss. Oo. Ss.
‘Jesus.' I did it. ‘Pavel, an apostle of Jesus!' ”

“Keep reading.”

With help from Sir Gerek, Rapunzel read the next word and the next. Finally, she had read the entire first sentence. “ ‘Pavel, an apostle of Jesus Christ by the command of God our Savior and of Christ Jesus our hope, To Timotheus my true son in the faith: Grace, mercy, and peace from God the Father and Christ Jesus our Lord.' ”

“What does it mean?”

“It's a greeting, from a letter. Pavel is greeting his friend Timotheus.”

“Oh. I've never had a letter. Is this how people greet someone in a letter, by telling their name?”

“Usually they greet the person they are writing first, and then at the end they write their own name. I suppose letters were written differently in those days, with the writer introducing himself first.”

How exciting! If she received a letter, she might actually be able to read it. Of course, who would write one to her? Her mother had never learned to read. But now that she could read,
what
would she read? She had no books, nothing with words written on it. She would worry about that later.

“Oh.” How long had she been sitting with Sir Gerek? Rapunzel jumped up, knocking over the stool. “I mustn't be late. Mother might not let me come back.” She put the stool back where she had gotten it. “Fare well, Sir Gerek!” she called and ran out the door.

Chapter Nine

Mother brought back some bread, some oats for the
pottage, and a few other things they needed. She had also found some pregnant women who might be interested in her services.

“Did you find the person you were looking for?” Rapunzel asked her. “The one who was coming back from England?”

Mother concentrated on putting the leftover oats away. “No, he is not in Hagenheim yet. What have you been doing while I was gone, Rapunzel? I thought you were going to paint some of your pretty flowers and vines and birds on the walls today?”

“I suppose I was . . . thinking of other things.” Rapunzel hated deceiving Mother, but it seemed the only way she would be able to take reading lessons.

“Making up a new song?” She patted Rapunzel's cheek. “I don't know how you think of them.”

Rapunzel shrugged and smiled. “I don't know either.”

Together they made a plum pie and some fried pork. “Meat is as plentiful as ever in Hagenheim,” Mother said. “The butchers sell everything here—pork, goose, pheasant, chicken, and even some beef. Are you pleased we came here, Rapunzel?”

“Yes, of course, Mother. Are you pleased?”

“Not missing your old friends in Ottelfelt, are you?”

“No.” Rapunzel sighed. “I don't think I was ever friends with anyone the way other people are. Most of the other girls my age
thought my paintings and songs were strange. They thought
I
was strange.”

“They were just jealous. Forget about them.”

That was Mother's solution to everything—to forget about it. Perhaps it was better to put out of her mind anything that bothered her, but she was more likely to brood about it, to consider how she could make it better, how she could change it, or how it might affect her in the future. She kept thinking that if the villagers had thought she was strange—and they often spoke of how strange they thought Mother was—then wouldn't the people of Hagenheim think them both strange as well? Not that she cared what most people thought, but it would be nice to have at least one friend, someone to talk to and confide in.

Her mother would just say, “You have me. Why do you need friends?” But she didn't always want to tell her mother everything. At the moment, she had to keep her reading lessons a secret. If Mother found out she was seeing Sir Gerek, spending time alone with him . . . it was too terrible to contemplate, after all the times her mother had warned her of what men would do to her if she was ever alone with them. It would not matter that Sir Gerek had one broken arm and one broken leg. He still would not seem safe to Mother.

Mother just didn't understand what it was like to be young and to want to do things, to learn things, to meet new people. Mother was content to speak only with Rapunzel, to be always with her.

What if she never did make a close friend? Was she destined to be alone with her mother until one of them died? To never marry or have children?

At least she had her reading lessons. Learning to read felt like the greatest thing that had ever happened to her. It
was
the greatest thing that had ever happened. Now she could write down her songs on paper and keep them forever. Learning to read would prove that
she was just as worthy as any lord's son or daughter. She could prove she was just as significant, just as intelligent, just as worthy of love and acceptance as anyone else.

Besides, who knew what learning to read could lead to? She might even get some kind of occupation in town with her new skill.

How strange that it was Sir Gerek who was teaching her—against his will, she ought to remember. She really owed more gratitude to Brother Andrew for giving her a job cleaning at the monastery and for forcing Sir Gerek to teach her. And why shouldn't he? He should want to help her since she saved his life from that evil brigand. She sighed.

“Rapunzel? Didn't you hear me? I said the pottage is burning. Take it off the fire.”

“Sorry, Mother. I must have been thinking.”

“You think too much, my dear. Thinking only makes one sad.”

“Not if one is thinking joyous thoughts.”

“What joyous thoughts are you thinking?” Mother gave her an intense stare.

Rapunzel shrugged. “Me? I'm only thinking . . . about Hagenheim. Perhaps I will get my first glimpse of it soon. I've never seen a walled city before.”

“I shall take you tomorrow if you like.”

“Oh, I'm in no hurry. Now that we live here, I can see it anytime.”

Mother gave her a suspicious glance before continuing to slice the bread for their meal. “I hope you are not thinking about that boorish knight we met on the road to Hagenheim.”

“I wouldn't call him boorish.” He was a little rude and arrogant, but after all, he was a noble knight. She supposed he had a reason to be arrogant. “No, of course I'm not thinking of him, Mother. But he did save us from those robbers.”

“And then you saved him from his own prisoner who was about to
kill him. If he hadn't been so careless as to let his prisoner get loose and steal his own knife, you wouldn't have had to save him.”

“He wasn't careless. It was not his fault his horse fell on him.”

“I say it was. He should have better control over his horse or get a new one.”

It was impossible to win an argument with Mother, so Rapunzel said nothing more.

Later, while they ate their meal of pottage and bread and plum pie, Rapunzel asked, “Have you seen any of your old friends since we came back? Any people you know? You must know a lot of people since you grew up here.”

“There is no one here I care to speak to.”

“Do you have any relatives—cousins or aunts or anything?”