“Get down, Isabella!” Johan turned on the seat and motioned to his wife who ducked under the blankets spread out in the wagon's rear. Coming toward them on the road was a group of riders with the Eagle of Poland on their banners. Johan guided Al-Buraq to the side of the highway as the soldiers galloped past the long line of travelers. Frederich strolled up and leaned on the wagon, watching as the cavalcade disappeared back toward Leipzig.
“Ah, young master, it is a good thing we found this wagon. And the paint to disguise your horse.”
Johan chucked the rains and Al-Buraq stirred in the traces and moved back out onto the road. Frederich trudged along beside them. Johan looked after the riders. “You can come out now, Bella.”
Isabella poked her head out. “Are they gone?”
“Yes. That is the third patrol we have seen this week. Your father must be desperate.”
“Will we never get to Münster, Johan? It has been so many days.”
“It takes longer when we are traveling with so many people, but there is safety in numbers. The Polish soldiers do not look for a cart horse with a white blaze and stockings pulling a peasant wagon. Al-Buraq is a proud horse but I think I have convinced him to accept his new role, at least until we arrive.” The horse picked up his ears and nickered as if to agree.
The next morning Isabella was sick again. Frederich brought an old woman to help her. The woman poked her head into the wagon where Isabella lay. Her white hair curled out from underneath a cap that marked her as being from Holland. She had sharp blue eyes and a ready smile. “I am Magda. My friend, Frederich, tells me you are ill. What is wrong?” When Isabella told her, the old woman climbed into the wagon and asked Isabella to unbutton her blouse. “Let me see your breasts, girl.”
Isabella hesitated.
The old woman laughed. “Oh, come, come, girl. You needn’t be shy with me.”
Isabella did as Magda asked her. The woman glanced at her then pulled the blouse closed. “When were you last visited by the Lady in Red, dear?” She smiled.
Isabella tilted her head. “The Lady in Red?” Then she realized what Magda meant. “Oh… oh, I see. Let me think. I believe my course happened not too long after we married.”
“I see.” Magda lifted Isabella's chin and looked into her eyes. “So young, so young, but that's the way of life.”
“What is the way of life, Magda? I don’t understand.”
“Girl, you are two months pregnant. You will have a baby come spring.”
“A baby, but… but how?”
Magda threw back her head and laughed. “Don't you understand, girl? If you are intimate with your husband…”
Isabella hid her face in her hands. “Yes, I know how people make children, but I didn't think…”
“And why not, Bella? You are young and strong. Your Johan is a man's man.” She chuckled. “Don't worry, dearest. Old Magda will be with you when your time comes. I've brought more children into this world than ships sail the Rhine.”
“A baby. Oh, Johan… a baby.”
Life took on a whole new meaning for Isabella. When she told Johan she was pregnant, they were lying together in their bed inside the wagon. He stared at her for a long time and then pulled her close and she slipped into sleep in the safety of his arms. Although she was young, she did not worry, for she knew Johan would always be nearby to protect her, to give her his strength and love her. Even the morning sickness did not trouble her, for this is what she wanted above everything—to be Johan's wife and the mother of his children.
The halls of Wawel Castle were far away, in another time, another life. Now she was just Bella, wife of Johan, and soon-to-be mother of his child. The only tie to her past, the great stallion Al-Buraq, was no longer the king of the desert, but a wagon horse. She wore the plain clothes of a peasant and twisted her long hair in a simple braid. Every night, after the day’s travel, she sat with the women and learned from them or watched as they did commonplace things like mending clothes. She was a quick learner and soon felt comfortable with many of the ordinary daily tasks, although some things took a while for her to perfect, like cooking.
One day as they drove, Isabella giggled, remembering the first time she cooked for Johan.
He turned in the driver’s seat. “What are you laughing at, Bella?”
“The soup…” She hid her smile behind her hands.
“Ah, the soup.” Johan shook his head. “Never in my life have I eaten anything like the soup.”
“Was it that terrible?”
“It smelled good until you burned it,” he chuckled. “That added a very distinctive aroma and a unique flavor.”
“Oh, Johan.” Bella laughed out loud. “I never lifted a pot or a utensil in my whole life, nor was I ever in the castle kitchen. I had not the faintest idea how to make soup.”
“Well, since you’ve been learning from the other women, your cooking has improved.”
“I’m glad you think so.” Bella rose from her cushions at the back of the wagon and crawled forward to throw her arms around Johan. With her cheek against his back, she cried.
She felt him turn and then he pulled her into his arms. “What is it, little one?”
“Oh, Johan. I love you so much. You have saved me from a life that was shallow and meaningless. I want to be the best wife I can be, the best cook, the best mother…” She clung to her husband, her tears wetting his shirt.
“Come up here.” Johan pulled her onto the seat beside him and put his arm around her. Al-Buraq plodded ahead, step by step by step.
Isabella watched the horse’s long tail swing from side to side. Here we are, she thought, an Anabaptist stable boy and a Polish princess, now just Johan and Bella.
At last, on a bright winter morning in late December 1533, Johan stopped the wagon before the gates of Münster. Isabella sat beside him, her face thin, but her eyes bright. The pale winter sun gleamed on the massive stone battlements, and banners snapped in the breeze. The city’s fortifications were thick and high, and bastions stood at strategic corners. Men with spears walked atop the walls. Frederich pointed to the moat in front of the wall. “The founders of the city diverted the River Aa to feed this ditch. It encircles the whole of Münster. They made the gate of massive timbers and great steel hinges—a defender's gate.”
Johan’s eyes followed the stone walls up and up until they rested on the banners atop the towers. “This is it, Bella! This is Münster. We’re here!”
Isabella leaned on his shoulder. “At last!”
Frederich walked up beside their cart and put Johan’s thoughts into words. “Ah, now here is a city to my liking—strong walls, stout gates, the most modern defenses. A soldier could defend this city for a long time.”
“But,” Bella said, “why would we need to defend it?”
Frederich shook his head. “Tell your wife what the future holds for militant Anabaptists, Johan.” With that, he turned and walked away.
Bella peered into her husband’s face. “What is he talking about, Johan?”
“This city is now Protestant, Bella. Bernhard Rothmann forced the Catholic Bishop von Waldek to sign an edict of toleration last February. Once he did, they drove von Waldek and many of the Catholics from the city. Since then, only Protestant clerics preach in the churches.
“While we were on the road, Frederich heard armed militant Anabaptists from Holland are on their way here. Their arrival will spark a crisis, for the Catholics and the Reformists will not give up this city without a fight. The Anabaptists here will call upon other Anabaptists to take up arms and defend the city, in case the Catholics or Reformists attack us, and I will join them, for I will not run anymore.”
“But, Johan.” She gripped his arm. “Is there no place where we can live a simple life? I thought we would find peace here.” She touched her belly. “Peace for our child.”
The massive gates groaned and Johan watched as they opened and a group of soldiers marched out across the bridge. Michael Hoffman and the leaders of their group went forward to talk to their captain.
Johan turned to Isabella. “You and I have come to the point in our lives where we must decide who we are. We could slink off into the woods and find a place where no one would recognize us—live our lives pretending we believe nothing. We could watch while the Catholics and the Reformists torture and murder true believers and never lift a hand to stop them.
“Or we can take a stand for what we believe and make our home here in Münster. No more running. We will fight if we have to, but we will not fear death. And when the day comes, we will stand before our Lord as he says, ‘Well done, good and faithful servants.’ What good is our faith if we do not stand for it?”
Bella was silent a long time, her gaze on the city wall. After several moments she whispered, “I am wondering if your desire to fight comes from your faith or from your hatred of the men who killed your aunt?”
Johan frowned.
“My parents raised me Catholic,” she said, “but since we listened to Michael's teaching, I have changed—I agree with the Anabaptist way. But I do not yet grasp onto those teachings as something to live by as you do. I am a woman, Johan, and I am not concerned with defending this city.
“I only want to be your wife and raise our children in peace—I know nothing about standing for my beliefs, except that if anyone tried to hurt you or our child, I would give my life to stop it from happening. That is all I know…”
Johan touched Bella’s cheek. “You are an amazement, Bella. When I first met you, something drew me to you, but I also thought you were a spoiled young girl with not a practical thought in your head. But I was wrong. You are deep, Bella; as deep as the ocean. A simple man like me could never hope to win the love of a girl… of a woman such as you, and yet you have given me your heart. I am blessed.”
Johan took Isabella into his arms. After a moment, he held her away and looked into her eyes. “I love you, Bella. We will find what we are looking for here, I think.”
The soldiers from the city waved them on. Johan chucked the reins and Al-Buraq stepped onto the bridge that crossed the moat.
As the wagon rolled into the New Jerusalem, Isabella looked back at Johan, love and trust shining from her eyes. “I meant what I said, Johan. If anyone ever tries to hurt you or our child, I will give my life to stop it from happening.”