"But why...," Luther began, but the rest of the words failed him.
"His Highness, Prince Frederick III, ordered it so. He guaranteed you safe passage to and from the Diet of Worms, but when you fled, this was his solution—to make it appear as though you had been kidnapped. The prince will return from Worms in another couple of days. Until then, you are to stay here and keep out of sight. And while you are here, we will refer to you as the Knight George."
Again, Luther wanted to ask why, but he could only stare at them. "The emperor has not yet issued his final edict," another man said, "but the prince feels it will most certainly not be in your favor. As only the prince and the six of us know your identity, it would behoove us for you to pose as the Knight George and await His Highness's return."
The men each bowed, and then left the room, closing the door quietly behind them. Luther sat in silence for a long moment. When the shock finally subsided, he offered a prayer of gratitude. Prince Frederick was taking an enormous risk in harboring a notorious heretic, but with the prince's assistance, Luther would be able to complete his work. His Ninety-five Theses had been the first hammer blow, the first fissure in the great foundation of the Church, but more strikes were needed to awaken the masses, to make the people question what they had believed all their lives.
Seeing a small desk situated against a wood-paneled wall near the room's only window, Luther stood and walked to it. The men had set his meager belongings on the desk―his Bible, his theses, and his other writings. They had left a stack of blank pages, a quill, and small bottle of black ink.
Luther debated writing to his tutors and informing them of his whereabouts but quickly decided against it. If the letter were intercepted, he would not be the only one at risk. If the emperor discovered where Luther was hiding, everyone in Wartburg Castle would be punished, whether they knew his true identity or not. The days turned to weeks as Luther awaited Prince Frederick III’s return and news of his punishment. Despite what the Church considered the actions of a heretic, word of his trial had spread, adding fuel to the fire of his reformation. But it was not enough. Luther needed to get the people out from under the apron of the Mother Church, or his reformation risked the same fate as the Waldensians’. He knew Christians needed to nurture their own faith, instead of blindly following their priests or bishops.
As Luther paced his small room, seeking guidance from familiar Bible passages, the truth struck him. “This,” he thought as he closed the book and felt the weight of it in his hands. How blessed he was to be able to read the Word of God for himself. Not many in his country could read, but even fewer could read anything but their native language. Typically only clergy were taught Ancient Greek, the language of the Bible. To get the Word of God into the hands of the people, it needed to be translated.
Luther chose to begin with the New Testament, painstakingly translating each book from Ancient Greek into German, the people's language. He worked day and night, spending nearly every waking moment hunched over the small desk in his room. He repeatedly sent one of his six caretakers out for more paper and ink.
Translating offered Luther a fresh look at the beloved scriptures he knew so well, and as he labored, the work steeled his resolve. Luther believed earnestly in what he had written in his Ninety-five Theses and other volumes, crafting new theses as inspiration struck. His tutors would have him believe that everything he wrote about was a lie, fabricated to bring about a reformation of the Church that would return its lost children into the fold when the time was right.
No. The Church didn’t need a staged reformation. It needed a real one. Using the pretext of continuing his work on Septem Montes, Luther grew his reformation under his own design. He enlisted the help of supporters like Andreas Karlstadt and Gabriel Zwilling to head a revolutionary reform agenda in Wittenberg while he remained in hiding at Wartburg. If his tutors got wind of his establishing a new church instead of the intended false branch of Catholicism, they would no doubt sanction his death.
Nearly a year after going into hiding, Luther finally completed his translation of the New Testament. He returned to Wittenberg in disguise, uncertain of the state of the reformation.
Zealots, calling themselves Zwickau prophets, had turned the social order into utter chaos. Their radical doctrines incited riots, a problem for the town council, but Luther was grateful for the religious confusion the zealots created. It paved the way for him to reestablish himself as a conservative influence within the reformation.
Wittenberg, Germany
March 1522
Banishing the Zwickau prophets gained Luther the respect he'd hoped for from Wittenberg's town council. With it came the freedom to preach to the people without fear of arrest. Luther had taken his first step toward reining in his reformation, which had become like a petulant child during his absence. With the pulpit once again at his command, he hammered home his stance on bringing about change through the Word of God. But his control over events outside Wittenberg proved more tenuous.
Radicalism spread like a plague—one Luther was inclined to let fester. At first. The radicals' misconceived doctrines often provoked revolts, which further solidified Luther as a righteous authority among the rabble. However, the situation was quickly becoming unstable. As conflict broke out, Luther attempted to quell the rebelling peasant classes through his writings, yet their atrocities only increased. They destroyed religious statues and burned monasteries and libraries throughout Germany.
How dare they commit such sins in my name. Luther angrily paced back and forth across the length of his study. How many lives had been lost to their violence? How many of his Christian brothers and sisters had lost their homes or places of worship? Striding back to his desk, Luther picked up his quill and, once again, vented his outrage on the sheets of paper. He awaited news from Leonhard Koppe, a Torgau city councilman whom Luther had enlisted to aid in the escape of nuns from the Marienthron convent in Nimbschen. Their plan was simple, but Luther believed in its success, knowing few, if any, would search among barrels of herring for the missing nuns.
A sharp rap sounded at the door and he turned. "Come!" The door creaked open and a small boy poked his head in.
"Uh, this letter just came for you, Professor." He held out a folded sheet of paper, the flap sealed with a glob of red wax. Martin stood and took the letter, waiting until the door had closed once more before examining it. The insignia imprinted in the wax was one he recognized, matching a letter he had received some weeks before from the Marienthron convent nun, Katharina von Bora, when she had written to beg his assistance in helping the nuns escape the monastery.
Returning to his desk, he gently broke the seal and spread the pages of the letter out before him. The penmanship was hurried yet gentle.
Dear Sir,
I thank you for your assistance in our safe conduct to Wittenburg. My sisters and I shall be eternally in your debt.
Your man Koppe told me that you intend to ask our families to admit us once again into their homes. However, you and I both know that fear of canon law is a powerful adversary. Our defection from the Church will be viewed as no less than criminal. I ask instead that you find suitable husbands for my sisters, for they are more restless for marriage than life. As for myself, I shall marry none save you. For years, my life has been yours, my instruction within the monastery dedicated to assisting you with your most important work. Yet, my tutors have become restless of late. They know, Martin. And I fear how they will counter your reformation.
Eternally yours,
Katharina von Bora
Luther sat for a long moment, weighing his options. The foundation for his new church had already broken ground, taking root throughout Europe. Such flames would be hard to extinguish; yet, he knew the Mother Church was capable of doing just that. But would they? Would they risk crushing his reformation only to have to start back at the beginning? No, it was more likely they would find a way to turn what he had created to their benefit.
He picked up his quill and retrieved a fresh sheet of paper to pen a letter to the woman he could now count among his allies. He needed