Letters from the Diaspora by Sean Regan

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SUMMARY: For the December flash fiction contest, theme is "Christmas"

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[Editor's Note: Agnes, the Countess of Blankenburg, was a tenacious correspondent, and historians are fortunate that her descendants preserved her letters so fervently. She received many letters from outside the Empire, such as this letter from her younger sister Sophie, who lived in the Ordenstaat with her husband, a Teutonic Knight. Such rarities reveal how Germanic people of the diaspora fought to maintain their cultural identities in the midst of local traditions. In translation, we tried to balance the fidelity and transparency of the original Middle High German, and we preferred the terms Ordenstaat (or Order's State) and Ostsee (Baltic Sea) instead of less elegant English constructions.]
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Turaida. Sext, Christmas Day 1216. (1)


Joy, Dearest Sister, on the day of our Lord,

During Communion this morning, I thought of you and our family, and father, and determined to write before vespers. My lord and husband has called his knights to the fortress for the celebration, which will culminate with the evening feast, and at this moment any quiet, private place is a blessing.

I write in a room with a window toward the east, and I think of Christmas Day, the first after mother's death, when I cried before a window in the library, and you held me and consoled me with your fantastic tales. I remember the chill from the window, the frost at the panes, but I remember most vividly the warmth of your heart. As though this feat was not sufficient, you taught the Latin and music for "Veni, Veni Emmanuel" so completely that I remember them still, and I will sing them tonight. I wonder, did Father know where to find me, or did you alone know my hiding place?

I am glad that you preferred the physician's wisdom to the midwife's, and also that your son is well. We, too, are in good health, despite the cold and wind. How is father? I have no news from him. If you visit Goslar this winter, please scold him on my behalf. (2)

Let me describe this setting. The fortress stands on a hill on the south bank of a river. From this window, I see up the river to the northeast, toward the heart of the heathen lands, and Riga is a day's journey to the southwest. The Livs in the village below the fortress have accepted the grace of the Trinity and the protection of the Order. This morning I heard singing from the small church in the village, and the smoke of their fires signals that they, too, enjoy a day of worship and jubilation. The villagers behave in Christian fashion, but they live at the foot of a fortress. My lord and husband (3) tells of unrest up river, and he reminds me that the last fort of the Livs stood nearby, where he fought in the siege just four years past.

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(1) Sophie wrote this letter after noon ("sext" in the canonical hours) from the Teutonic fortress of Turaida, which still stands near the town of Sigulda, Latvia.

(2) Agnes and Sophie were daughters of a prominent silver merchant of Goslar, an imperial city of the Holy Roman Empire.

(3) Gerhard von Loxstedt, a knight in the Livonian order and a commander of Teutonic troops in the following summer's campaign.

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