“Oh, I have not read these.” Odette sat down eagerly. But Brother Philip was still standing. “Why don’t you go into the kitchen, Brother Philip? Cook has made a nice pork roast with spicy plum sauce especially for you, and I believe she has just taken a loaf of bread from the oven. I can smell it from here.”
He kept his eyelids half closed, as if uninterested. “I suppose I cannot disappoint her.”
“Indeed not. You must go and sample it or she will be grumpy for the rest of the week.”
Brother Philip needed no further encouragement. He headed out the back door for the kitchen.
Odette sighed and set about to read the new treasure.
The Chronicles were familiar, as she had read similar accounts in the books of First and Second Kings, and in her studies with Brother Philip she had learned that they both chronicled the same period of time and the same kings. But she relished the very real stories of human mistakes, failures, and sometimes triumphs. The triumphs mostly came because the kings were obeying God, and failures came when they ignored God.
How wonderful it would be if God spoke directly to her the way He had spoken to the prophets. The kings of old simply had to inquire of God and He would tell them what to do. When she came to the story of Jehoshaphat in Second Chronicles, she was struck by how many times he was reminded to “seek God.” When he had sought God, things went smoothly and God worked everything out, but when he had not sought God, disaster threatened.
Brother Philip strolled into the room, moving slowly and rubbing his belly. “Your cook is the best in Thornbeck, certainly better than my fellow monks who take turns cooking at the abbey.”
“Brother Philip.” Odette stared down at the text before her. “Why did God say that His wrath was on Jehoshaphat when all he had done was try to help King Ahab?” She had her own idea about the answer to that question, but she knew it would flatter Brother Philip to be asked.
“Let me read it again.”
Odette pointed out the passages. Brother Philip sat and read it over silently. “King Jehoshaphat must have known that King Ahab was wicked and did not follow God. He was foolish to follow King Ahab into battle with his enemies. The conclusion we can draw is that we must never be loyal to a wicked person.”
Odette nodded, thinking of Jorgen. Was he doing what Jehoshaphat had done? Was Jorgen being loyal to a wicked person—Lord Thornbeck?
But she also couldn’t cease thinking about God’s admonition to seek the Lord. Had she sought the Lord before deciding to start poaching? If the same held true for her as for Jehoshaphat, then she might very well meet with disaster.
When Jorgen arrived the next day at the clearing near the south wall of the town, Odette was already there talking with the children, who were gathered around her and staring up at her with adoring faces.
Did she know how beautiful she was? Her hair shone in the afternoon sun, and her voice was soft and kind. What a wonderful mother she would be. But he should not be thinking about that.
Some of the children caught sight of him standing there watching her and exclaimed, “It’s the forester! Jorgen!”
Odette turned, a smile on her lips. “I’m just finishing up my lesson. Come, children. Show Herr Hartman how you write the words you learned today.”
They all began to write Wald, Frau, and Mann with their sticks.
Jorgen looked at their work and praised each one. When they would grin up at him, he would wink or give their shoulders a quick squeeze.
“What is in your sack?” they asked as he dropped his burden, which he had carried slung across his back.
“I shall tell you later, when the gamekeeper comes with another just like it.”
The children exclaimed their excitement, trying to guess what was inside. “Toys!” “Sweets!” And one little boy guessed, “Rats!”
“Ew!” several of the girls cried.
“You will just have to wait and see.”
“Will you tell the children a story?” Odette asked him.
He had the children all sit on the grass, and he told them a new story he had thought up since the last time he had been with them. They kept their eyes on him—including Odette, who sat with the children.
Just as he was finishing, Herman, his newest gamekeeper, emerged from the trees carrying a sack identical to his own across one shoulder.
Jorgen stood. “The margrave has kindly allowed us to bring thirty skinned hares for you all to take home to cook and eat.”
Before he could continue, the children, especially the older ones, let out a loud whoop, cheering and jumping up and down. Why, then, did he feel this overwhelming sadness and shame, like a memory from the past?