Page 64 of With You Here
What had Kampff done to him? Beaten and bloody and broken.
Christyne’s chest ached. What evil lay in the heart of man, that a person could treat another thus? In the name of God. In the name of holiness.
Disgust coiled within.
Nikolaus shifted, a cut above his right eye dripping with blood. Pain-filled eyes met hers, and his lips moved, albeit no sound came from his tongue.
Hette raised her face, angry red splotches upon her skin and rivulets of emotion trailing her cheeks. She swept the room, accusation darting from her gaze before she bent at the waist and wept over her brother’s broken body.
“You have turned my wedding celebration into a spectacle, Kampff.” Prince Ernst’s nostrils flared. “Let us withdraw to the solar to attend this matter.”
“Nay,Reichsfürst.” Kampff inclined his head to offer a semblance of subservience. “Let all be privy to the long reaching arm of the Almighty. Let all see what will be done to those who defy the head of God’s holy Church.”
Heads in the crowd nodded, their voices echoing Kampff’s proclamation.
“Very well.” Though the prince’s features grew taut, he swiped at the back of his cape and retook his seat. His arm angled to the side as if he gripped Clare’s hand beneath the table. “However”—his voice shook the rafters—“even the rebel Martin Luther was given an opportunity to recant his beliefs.”
A muscle in Kampff’s jaw ticked. “I fear it would be a grave mistake to allow this criminal to speak.”
“Disavow those alarms, for it is inmyland and undermyword we will proceed.”
The duke deferred with a bow, though his lips curled.
Prince Ernst stroked the hair upon his chin. “Arise, scholar.”
Lorenz pushed to his feet. The action placed his body close to Christyne’s own. Heat emanating from his skin soaked into her arm. Warmed her. Infused her with resolve.
If anyone could convince the people of the need for reform within the Church, it would be he. Were not the peasants in the crowd even now disillusioned by the abuses of the clergy? The Church’s greed? The unfair fact that they, being the poorest amongst men, could not buy their way into heaven through the purchase of indulgences like the nobility. Nor could they read the Holy Writ for themselves or understand the liturgy of the Mass, spoken in Latin.
Were these not causes of the uprising two years past? Matters which burned like hot coals left behind after the flames were extinguished.
What of the nobility? Even they felt the noose of the financial ropes the pope placed around their necks. But with the Church and the state sister and brother, power could be stripped of those who dared deviate from the legal course. Time had yet to tell what the outcome of the Diet of Speyer would be.
“What say you, scholar? Are you guilty of the charge of heresy brought upon you?”
Lorenz was yet garbed in the dusty and stained attire of a stable worker, but clothing could hide neither the intelligence that marked his brow nor the fire that shot from his eyes as he pondered matters of conviction and conscience.
“I am guilty of certainty in the Trinity. That Jesus was both divine and human. That salvation is given and accepted by grace through faith alone. That the Scriptures have the final authority, and that the priesthood is made up of all believers and not just those with enough money to buy the position.”
Whispers broke out across the room, and Lorenz raised his voice to be heard. “I am guilty of believing that all must have a personal commitment to Christ, and that this vow is essential to salvation and a prerequisite to baptism.”
“Not baptize a babe?” a woman at a far table shrieked. “That is abuse of the child!”
Lorenz waited. He stood erect, seemingly untouched by the anger his words provoked in some around him. When the outraged responses quieted, he spoke again. “I am guilty of believing that all have the God-given right to worship according to their conscience, neither swayed nor governed by state authority. That no secular power should coexist with Christendom, but instead the church is theekklesia, the called out, who stand apart in society by faith and discipleship.”
“Such a thing will surely lead to anarchy,” the prince accused, his brows low over his eyes. Warning glowered from his countenance. The language of his body admonished Lorenz to pick words with care and tread with caution.
Lesser men would have cowered under such a look. Spouted words to sooth the ruffled feathers of one who had the power to end their life. Not so Lorenz. The fire that burned within his spirit flamed hotter, scorching the ears of those who listened and setting ablaze hearts tender enough to be touched by a spark.
Christyne felt her own heart flash bright in her chest. Pride for him welled, and she could not help the soft smile that graced her lips, though he stood trial before her father and all.
“Not so,” Lorenz answered with certainty. “For secular government has authority on earth, but not when that authority spreads to the coercion of conscience or the enforcement of beliefs. While the emperor rules over this land, there should only be one king over our hearts, and that monarch is not Charles V nor even Pope Clement, but our Father God in heaven.”
Kampff roared. “Will you yet let him speak? He has sealed his own faith with the words of his mouth. Neither the Roman Catholic Church nor the other rebel teachers wish the plague of beliefs such as his to infect yet more innocent, eternal lives. If he adheres to the belief that there should be two baptisms, I say we give him a third. Yea, one more to send him to where he belongs.”
Prince Ernst gave Kampff a hard stare before looking once more to the scholar. “I will give you one more chance to retract your statements.”
Christyne watched, studied Lorenz’s face, but he did not so much as flinch. He would not yield, this she knew. And she loved him all the more for it. Though the lions roared, gnashed their teeth, and blew their hot breath in his face, he would not bend the knee.
