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boy from his mother’s arms and looked at him carefully. The baby’s eyes were deep-set and blue, close together and not in proportion to one another nor rightly aligned along his little nose. The monk tilted the boy’s face upward and took note of the child’s chin. It was far too short, leaving the upper lip protruding severely over the lower. The boy’s large ears sprouted unevenly from a sloping head and were bent forward toward his face. The monk said nothing but gently blew the boy’s ghost-white hair and brushed the lad’s pale white skin with a calloused finger. “Ah, a fine boy, Frau Emma, fine, indeed.”
    “Scrawny, very ugly, and lean,” blurted Martin.
    Egidius leaned close to the stranger and growled, “I don’t like you, Brother Martin, and I think your vow is suspicious. You should know that I’ve done penance twice for beating the brethren!”
    The prior appeared and interrupted the porter with his greeting. “Thanks be to God.”
    Egidius bowed to his superior. “Prior Paulus, we’ve a visiting brother with a letter from Mainz and a woman with some business as well.”
    Emma bowed. “The paper is about my business. This wanderer is but my poor escort, assigned to me by a well-meaning clerk.”
    Prior Paulus looked at the woman and her child and took the string-tied scroll from Martin’s hand. He cracked open the wax seal and unrolled it. It contained a message from the archbishop regarding the year’s plantings, taxes owed to Lord Hugo the protector, and the apportionment of the glebe harvest to the priests of the villages. He read further to find a list of repairs, tithes, dues, and hospitalities that the abbey might expect in the coming year. Toward the bottom a reference was made to the threats of a western lord and the likely gathering of Knights Templar to oppose him. At the very end was a brief statement regarding Emma: “Without known reason I am asked by your protector, Lord Hugo of Runkel, to provide this whore and her ill-formed bastard a shelter fit a woman of virtuous repute. She seems of high birth and I suspect her to be a despoiled nun. Receive her, but her cursed son is not to be an oblate; he is to suckle at the sinner’s breast and bear the weight of his mother’s scourge without benefit of alms.”
    Paulus rolled the yellowed scroll and turned to Martin. “Brother, I see nothing of regard to you.”
    Brother Martin folded his hands and kneeled. “When did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and givest you something to drink? When did we see you a stranger and invite you in?”
    Paulus was not impressed. “ Gyrovoagi ,” he muttered. Yet charity was a virtue he had vowed and it could not be ignored. “Brother, we may either feed you and send you on your way, or offer you our fellowship as brethren. Your wish?”
    “I wish to join you as your brother.”
    Paulus’s face darkened. “I see. Then you must abide the difficult rules of joining our community. In keeping with the Rules of St. Benedict, you must remain outside of this gate for five days. At the ringing of each bell you shall entreat the porter for entry. You, Brother Egidius, must refuse him at each request.”
    “Aye. ‘I rejoice in following thy statutes,’” the porter smirked.
    “Then at compline of the fifth day you shall be allowed in, and you shall be brought to a novice’s cell as a postulant, and there you shall dwell for one year. After this time has passed, you shall stand before the community in the oratory and take a vow of stability promising us your faithful presence until the Lord takes your soul. You shall vow obedience to our rule and prostrate yourself to each brother in turn. Then, Brother Martin, perhaps we may serve one another.”
    Martin said nothing but left his knees and bowed. Prior Paulus turned to Emma and her son. “My child. Come, enter in and let us show you to your quarters until we’ve settled you in one of our villages.”
    “Grace to you, Prior