Confined within the walls of the monastery of Marienthron, Katharina writes a letter to the outside world. The nuns, cautiously excited, have huddled around her in their sleepwear. Hanna, while holding the candle, looks back to make sure that nobody is watching. This secret letter could turn their lives upside down, for better or worse.
A few weeks later, Luther reads Katharina’s letter. He has a tough choice to make. It is not just about the political aspects that he has to take into account. This would be a mission never attempted before; a mission impossible. What Luther would do next could either offer the nuns their freedom or possibly cost them their lives. Stroking his chin, he thinks hard of a plan. He calls his assistant eventually and whispers into his ear.
It is the year 1523, April 4th. The monastery’s gate opens to a merchant’s wagon and its two light brown horses. While riding the wagon, the merchant curiously looks around to assess the situation. Although there is only one old guard, the German Shepherd who does not take its keen eyes off the wagon is discomforting. The merchant notices the window to the 2nd floor and the nuns behind it.
The nuns, dressed up and packed, are gathered behind the window, watching the merchant’s wagon enter. They have seen that wagon many times before, but this is the first time that the wagon brings to the monastery the fresh scent of hope as well as the usual stinky smell of fish. The gate closes behind the wagon. The nuns could hear the familiar yet harrowing sound of the giant, rusty, iron key turning in the lock.
“Good morning, Oscar,” Father Elias says while approaching the merchant along with two nuns. “A bit early this month, aren’t you?!”
Oscar takes his hat off and jumps off the wagon. “Good morning, Father. A good bargain arrived. Didn’t want you to miss it.”
The nuns start unloading the fish wagon.
“Father,” Oscar says as he checks the surroundings. “Can I have a confession?”
“Now?”
“It is sort of a big sin. Gotta take it off my chest,” Oscar says and flashes a coin.
“Oh, it seems urgent. Come on, son. Let’s go to the chamber,” Father says and heads to the chamber.
“I just leave the wagon here, then,” Oscar says and winks at the nuns.
“Yeah,” Father says while turning to Oscar. He stops suddenly. Something is not right, he thinks. He turns his suspicious eyes on the nuns, trying to read their minds. Their gaze locked with Father’s, the nuns hold their breaths. One of the nuns is about to crack when Oscar wraps his hand around Father Elias and makes Father walk away with him. He starts confessing as they are walking.
“It was me and my mother, naked—”
“Jesus!” Father yells. “Not here, son! Wait for the chamber.”
“I’m telling you, Father. This one is so big, it’s like huge.”
Nearly escaped the close call, the nuns at the wagon smile and signal with their eyes to the nuns on the second floor.
Half an hour later, Father Elias, still in shock from the confession, stands near the wagon. He seems haunted by the images of the scenes that Oscar has described during his long confession.
Oscar closes the curtain on the wagon’s back, and worryingly checks his surroundings.
“Until the next confession, Father. I have a bigger sin coming up.”
“Looking forward to… I mean, take care, son.”
The wagon leaves through the gate. Father Elias snaps back to attention when the German Shepherd barks at the wagon. He suspiciously follows the wagon with his eyes. Soon, the images from the confession come back and distract him from the wagon. Eyes dilated and the mouth half-open, he eventually takes his eyes off the wagon and leaves. The gate closes behind the wagon, and the guard uses the big, rusty key to lock the gate again. The dog is still barking.
When walking in the yard, Father Elias runs into Sister Sofia, who is in her sixties.
“Oh, Sister. Can you tell Sister Katharina that I’m expecting her?”
“Aren’t they with you?”
“They? Who? Why would they be with me? Aren’t the sisters working in the kitchen now?”
Sister Sofia worryingly shakes her head. Father Elias turns his head to the gate through which the wagon had left this morning.
“God damn me!” Father Elias mutters. “God damn me!”
Oscar, a big victorious smile on his face, rides the wagon through wheat farms, clamorous rivers, and large-leaved lime trees. He turns his face back to the wagon when he hears the sound of giggling coming out of it.
Sitting in the wagon, the runaway nuns are half excited about the freedom that is awaiting them and half anxious about the consequences of their escape if they get caught. Anna notices that she is sitting on a small fish. She shows it to the others, and they all giggle, except for Katharina. She is focused on reading from the copy of Invocavit Sermons that she holds before her. There is something haunting in the sermons that intrigues her; something that she values more than the freedom that she and her sisters are risking their lives for.
The nuns’ excitement is replaced with fear when the wagon suddenly stops. They listen intently to the inaudible voices coming from behind the curtain.
The curtain is removed, and with that bright light pours in. Holding their breaths, no one dares to move. Young, handsome men gradually appear from the side. “We are there,” Marie says excitedly after she lets out a relaxed breath.
The nuns enthusiastically jump out and gather around the wagon. The virgin nuns and the young men are staring at each other for a few awkward moments. A middle-aged man pushes one of the young men ahead. “What’s the matter with you? Go, help the sisters.”
Marie excitedly runs toward the young man. The sisters look at each other and then follow her, shyly clustered several steps behind. They all leave the area, and Katharina appears from their behind. Standing still, she stares in the other direction, at Luther.
Luther senses the weight of Katharina’s look on him. He looks up and notices her. She smiles. Luther smiles back.
“This is it,” Katharina thinks. “This is the moment I have been imagining in my dreams.” Before she even attempts to approach him, Luther turns away, going back to his conversation with the merchant. Disappointed Katharina stays put and hugs the papers tightly. She recites a few lines from Invocavit Sermons as if the words are transferring from the papers into her body. That calms her; it always has.
A flickering candle watches Katharina lying in her bed. Under its light, she reads from a copy of the Invocavit Sermons. What a better bedmate than these romantic words, she thinks.
Katharina waits up at the entrance of the church. While talking to Luther’s assistant, her eyes are at Luther, who is in the midst of a heated religious argument with a couple of his colleagues, all males. The assistant leaves Katharina and approaches Luther. The path is long, or at least this is what appears to Katharina. Anxious about Luther’s response, her heart pounds fast.
The assistant arrives, finally, interrupts the discussion, and whispers into Luther’s ear. Seeing the young woman at the entrance, the smiling male colleagues have guessed the content of the message.
Turning to look toward the door, Luther notices Katharina. She smiles. He smiles back. His look lingers on her for a few moments.
One of the colleagues clears his throat to grab Luther’s attention. He snaps out of it and breaks the gaze. Shaking his head, he resumes his theological discussion.
Katharina reads the scene. Deeply disappointed, she takes her broken heart and leaves before the assistant arrives.
The fall has not left many leaves on trees. Standing under a tree near the church, Luther is having another theological discussion with his male colleagues. Hearing the sound of crunching leaves, one of them notices Luther’s assistant approaching. His eyes following the path, Luther sees Katharina standing far away from them. A big smile splitting his face, he taps Luther on the shoulder. Luther stops the discussion and watches him showing Katharina with his head.
The assistant arrives in the meanwhile.
“For God’s sake! How hard is it to understand?” Luther shouts at him. “The reformation is in its spring and needs all my attention.” Luther opens his arms when he says the word ‘spring’. The arms are pointing to the dead leaves, fallen on the ground. “Luther cannot be married at this crucial time. He must be alone. The reformation is my life now, and there is no space for femininity in it.”
Katharina hears the last words while she is walking away. A fall breeze flowing from Luther’s side rustles the dead leaves and shows her the way out. She shivers when the cold creeps under her clothes. A drop of tear finds its way out of her eyes.
Flashback to the year 1522. Luther, sitting behind a modest desk in Wartburg Castle, translates the Bible. The crickets’ inharmonic orchestra plays a symphony of suspense. Something is about to happen…