Escape from the Past Page 20

  “My Lord, thank you for taking care of me.”

  “For that, lad, you’ll have to thank the Lady,” Werner said. I noticed how his eyes flashed at the word lady. They were probably hot at it.

  “It wouldn’t have been possible, had you not granted Lady Clara refuge,” I said, trying to bow my head despite sitting in bed. “And Juliana.”

  Werner nodded graciously. “Max Nerds, if you feel strong enough, I’d like a word about your ordeal. It has come to my attention that the Duke von Schwarzburg held you prisoner. And he almost succeeded murdering you. It was a cowardly thing to do.”

  The sigh escaped my chest without notice. “May I have a few moments to dress? Then I could visit with you?”

  The Lord nodded. “I shall expect you in the hall.”

  “If you don’t mind, I’ll dress now?” I said, scanning the pile of green and brown cloth at the foot of my bed.

  Juliana’s cheeks colored again as she walked off, pulling Bero with her. “Your boots are by the door,” she yelled.

  “We’ll wait outside,” Bero said. “I’m going with you to the Lord.”

  I climbed out of bed, inspecting my legs and feet. Sores covered my knees and thighs, ribs and hands. They were scabbed over with no sign of infection. I may have died, had I not shown Bero and Juliana how the pine water worked. Maybe that was part of the game after all.

  When I bent down to slip on the medieval underwear—a loose set of linen pants with strings to hold them up—the room began to spin. I straightened and waited for the waves in my head to subside. At last I picked up the dreaded stockings. Great. I’d look like a girl on ballet night. I yanked them on, then the weird sewn socks.

  Good thing nobody was around. My classmates would have a feast seeing me like that. Even Jimmy would laugh his head off. At least the long tunic, forest green and made of woven wool, reached to my calves. The heavier outer tunic was a lighter green of felted wool. I also found a belt and a leather vest. Last came the boots. Another wave of dizziness took over and I slumped into the straw.

  Bathed in cold sweat, I grabbed a chunk of bread and an apple and opened the door. I was a regular native now—a puny one at that.

  “You’re slow as a snail on Sunday,” Bero said, hanging around in the drafty staircase. I managed a grin. “I’m coming with you.”

  “I don’t remember he asked for you,” I panted. What had happened to the old Bero who I had practically dragged into the castle a few weeks ago?

  “Nay, I’m going,” Bero said.

  I held onto the wall as I climbed downstairs. My legs were rubber and I wanted to be back in bed, even if I had to be naked. In the courtyard, the wind dug into my legs and I immediately started to shiver. Darn stockings.

  Bero had slowed down and stared toward the gate. A line of peasants stood waiting. They snaked through the courtyard and out into the bailey, their faces drawn and serious, their clothes tattered and stained. Nonetheless, they looked patient and demure.

  “Next,” one of the squires announced. The villager closest to the great hall’s entrance shuffled forward bowing. “Keep it short,” the squire said.

  “Yes, sir, thank you,” the peasant mumbled.

  “What’s going on?” I asked, regretting I’d left my bed.

  “Court,” Bero said. “Once a month, the Lord listens to quarrels and makes peace.” He tensed and gazed down the raggedy line.

  I leaned against the wall. “What?” I said impatiently. I wanted to get inside. Even if it was unlikely, Knight Werner wanted to meet now, the thought of climbing two flights of stairs to my room was too much. I sank to the ground in misery.

  “What is Mutter doing here?” Bero mumbled to himself. He took a few steps and hesitated. “You coming?”

  I shrugged. From this angle the walls of Hanstein looked even more impressive. I barely made out the sky.

  Bero returned and held out a hand. “You look like hog dung. I’ll help you.”

  “Get me when you’ve seen your mother.” I slumped forward and hugged my knees. I was obviously in worse shape than I thought. Without further ado I dozed off.

  Bero punched me in the shoulder. “Let’s go.”

  “I’m freezing,” I said as I straightened my aching back. I’d made up my mind. Either Werner was going to send me to my room or I was going to wait in the great hall. I could always roll up on one of the benches and wait. Better that than climbing stairs. To my surprise, the squire who guarded the door from the line of peasants nodded and waved us through.

  At the far end of the hall underneath the Hanstein crest Knight Werner sat on his ornate chair. Before him, a boorish-looking woman with a pocked face and red hands stooped low.

  “…and me neighbor has not returned the hen, My Lord. I bid you to help. She’s me best laying hen.”

  “What is your neighbor’s name, woman?”

  “Tomas, the tinker, My Lord.”

  “He isn’t here today, is he?”

  “No, My Lord, I told him I’d ask the Lord’s justice, but he’s ignoring me. Ever since me husband passed”—the woman crossed herself—“the tinker is stealing.”

  Lord Werner nodded. “He was a good man, your husband.” For a second, the knight looked up and waved at us.

  “Bring a bench and food for Max Nerds. He must regain his strength.” Werner’s servant who’d kept watch near the chair, hurried into action. “I assume you’ll join us as well, Bero, tanner’s son?” The Lord’s eyes sparkled and his mouth twitched ever so slightly.

  Bero bowed. “Yes, My Lord, if I may.”

  I looked over in surprise. Bero sounded like a different guy altogether. To my greater surprise, Knight Werner nodded agreement.

  As we slumped on the bench, Werner addressed the woman: “Give this woman twelve Heller so she can buy a new hen at market. My men will have a word with the tinker. He’ll return your hen and pay you ten Heller for your losses.”

  “Oh, thank you, My Lord. May Gott bless you for your kindness.” The woman bowed and curtsied at the same time, making her look like she was doubling over. Then she shuffled to the side, where the castellan was counting out coins.

  “Go with Gott, woman,” Werner said watching us dig into the apples, plums and bread with some kind of gravy. But the row of petitioners kept going and the Lord von Hanstein dispensed justice. I could’ve sworn that Bero had gained weight. His pants seemed tighter and his cheeks rounder. Life at the castle was doing him good.

  “My Lord, the tanner’s widow,” the squire announced.

  Werner waved as Bero’s mother approached. “I beg forgiveness, My Lord,” she hurried while curtsying. Then she froze and stared at Bero. I noticed that she’d attempted to tame her air by braiding it, dirt and all.

  “Approach and state your business?” Werner said as Bero’s mother continued to gape at her son.

  At last she shuffled closer. “Em, My Lord, I have come to thank you for your kindness. Without you, we would be starving through the winter. With the harvest so poor this year, and my husband dead…”

  Werner leaned forward. For a moment the hall became still except for the hearty sounds of Bero’s apple chewing. His mother blinked in confusion and glanced at me.

  “Good woman, what did I do?” Werner could be heard. “I don’t recall seeing you since Johann, your husband, died.”

  Bero’s mother bowed again and crossed herself. “I beg forgiveness, My Lord, I thought you…” She looked at me as if she were asking for help.

  Werner followed her gaze. “Max? Do you have something to say?”

  I stood up and bowed. “My Lord, I took the liberty of providing Bero’s mother with coins you so generously gave to me. I thought it was worth sharing with this family whose house was wrecked by Ott and whose daughter, Juliana, was attacked by the same man,” I panted. Werner was surely furious now and would yell at me for wasting his money?

  But the Lord sat watching and didn’t say a thing.

  “I regret to tell you
, my purse was stolen by Schwarzburg’s men.” I lowered my head. “I’m sorry.”

  A low chuckle reached my ear and I looked up in surprise. Werner sat in his chair, his face relaxed and smirking. “Max Nerds, I say, you never cease to surprise me.” I stared in confusion. What was so funny?

  But Werner ignored me and addressed Bero’s mother. “Good woman, Max Nerds took it upon himself to bestow you with a gift. Though in spirit of my giving, it was he who decided to share his fortune.”

  Her eyes wide, Bero’s mother looked at me. “Gott bless you,” she whispered.

  “You may leave now,” Werner said. “Unless you have other business?”

  “No, My Lord,” the woman said. She turned, her last glance at Bero who was attacking a hunk of bread. “I thank you for keeping my daughter and son safe.”

  “That, on the other hand, is my doing,” Werner said. “Now go with Gott, tanner’s widow.”

  Bero’s mother hurried out of the hall.

  “Your last visitor,” the guard announced, but Lord von Hanstein lifted one arm and the man fell silent.

  I looked at the Knight. Now it was coming. Werner would kick me from his castle for good.

  “Your heart is generous,” the Lord said, getting up and picking a plum from the bowl. “Your friends are your concern, a noble trait, indeed.”

  Bero slapped me on the back. “A noble trait,” he echoed.

  A movement at the entrance made us look up. “My Lord, a messenger is here to see you.” One of the guards had stepped past the attending squire and bowed his head.

  “Bring him, but stay near,” Werner said, his voice suddenly tense. He returned to his seat. Several maids appeared and fastened fresh torches along the walls. For the first time, I noticed a line of wrinkles around the Knight’s eyes.

  “My Lord,” the stranger said as he rushed forward, coming to an abrupt stop when the guards on each side took hold of his arms. He bowed and held up a roll of parchment. “I bring you tidings from Lady Miranda.”

  Werner nodded and his servant grabbed the note from the messenger. Breaking the seal, the Knight squinted and began to read. I looked back and forth between the courier and Werner. I was suddenly wide awake. What was Miranda sending? They weren’t exactly friends, at least, not that I knew.

  At last, Werner lowered the parchment. “An invitatio,” he mumbled. “Will you tell My Lady that my men and I will be honored to join her this coming Sun Eve, the day before Sunday?”

  The messenger nodded. “Very well, My Lord.” He turned and almost ran out the door.

  The hall fell quiet.

  “What?” I blurted.

  Werner sat back in his chair. “It appears that Miranda has invited us to a celebration in honor of Ott’s twenty-fifth name day.” He looked at Bero and me. “I gather she’s not intending to include you.”

  “He’s evil,” Bero said, jumping off his bench. “He tried to violate and murder my sister. I wouldn’t go near them if they had the last scrap of food in the entire village.”

  I nodded. My thoughts precisely.

  Werner abruptly rose from his chair. “And we shall be mindful and study Ott’s ways,” he said with a calm voice, but the authority underneath was unmistaken. “He is Dörnberg’s bastard and maybe conspiring with Schwarzburg. I don’t trust him.”

  Bero cowered back to his seat. “Yes, My Lord,” he whispered.

  Werner chuckled, yet, it sounded bitter. “Patience, young Bero. Justice requires time.” He paused. “It is curious though. Miranda has never invited us before.”

  “Maybe because it’s a round birthday,” I offered. I looked at Bero whose eyes were filled with admiration. I suddenly understood Bero’s wish to become a squire and serve Werner von Hanstein. I wanted to do the same.

  After the last peasant left, Werner got off his chair, grabbed a handful of hazelnuts and began pacing the hall. I was unsure what to do. I wanted my bed, but I knew I owed a story.

  Werner didn’t make me wait. “Tell us your tale,” he said, stopping in front of me. “You left here to share your fortune with Bero’s mother. Then what?”

  I took a deep breath. I was glad to sit while I recounted my ordeal, the hike to Rusteberg, the beadle’s interrogations and the horrible hole of a cell with my rat friends.

  “He knows Lady Clara is here…and he thinks I’m a spy,” I finished. While Werner had nodded and asked more questions, Bero had turned pale and sat unnaturally still.

  “He may have informants,” Werner finally said. “He can’t have proof, but it isn’t hard to find out things when you pay in gold. Schwarzburg has plenty of tax money and he isn’t afraid to torture.”

  “What are you going to do?” Bero’s voice was barely audible. “The bastard is worse than Ott.”

  “Absolutely nothing,” Werner said. He smiled and looked at both of us. “Lady Clara is safe and the beadle is getting more hideous by the day.” I wanted to add loathsome and evil. “Don’t trouble yourselves, the man has better things to do than covet a woman he can’t have.”

  I wasn’t so sure. The Duke was ugly all right, but his evilness seemed to give him extra strength and maybe purpose. I sighed. Who was I trying to argue with? I wanted to crawl into bed and sleep for days.

  “Yes, My Lord.”

  “Now, Bero, be a good lad and take old Max here to his quarters. He looks like a puff of wind will flatten him. I must convene my knights and plan our visit to Miranda’s manor.”

  Bero bowed and grabbed a hold of my arm. This time, I didn’t argue. I dragged myself upstairs to my bedroom. “I’ll be back in the morn,” Bero said as I crawled under the covers. I was too cold and tired to take off my clothes and was asleep before Bero closed the door.

  Chapter 28

  I woke early, my clothes damp with sweat. In my dream I’d been running through my house, digging around my closet and the drawers of my desk. But no matter how I searched I couldn’t remember where it was. Worse, I couldn’t remember what I was looking for.

  I climbed out of bed in search of water. Maybe I could wipe myself down and get back into bed. As I opened the door into a hallway, a maid rushed past.

  “Juliana?” Max said. The girl turned. “Sorry, I thought you were someone else.”

  The maid giggled and knocked on one of the doors.

  “My Lady, your morning drink,” she whispered. I decided to hang out and wait. I had to find out behind which door Juliana lived.

  A few seconds later the maid reappeared with a chamber pot.

  “I thought Juliana is attending Lady Clara,” I said.

  The girl nodded. “Why?”

  I was confused. “Didn’t you just go into the Lady’s room?”

  The chambermaid shook her head as she walked past. “It’s Lady Catherine, the Lord’s wife. Juliana is upstairs.”

  I stood thunderstruck. What was going on here? I’d never even seen Werner’s wife. Hadn’t thought of it, either, I had to admit. One of the squires was Werner’s son. What was his name again? Christian. I had completely forgotten that Werner had a family and kids.

  “Wait,” I called after the girl, but she’d disappeared through another door. Probably wanted to rid herself of the smelly pot. I returned to my room. I still didn’t have water, but maybe I’d ask Juliana to organize a bucket.

  The stone stairwell was gloomy. A freezing wind nipped at me legs as I climbed to the third floor. Through a narrow opening in the seven-foot deep stone wall, I caught a glimpse of the valley below, toy-sized and unreal. My former life had become a dream, the game was real.

  What was happening to me?

  I was a pawn on a chessboard, pushed around by unknown forces. Game had become life. I couldn’t allow myself to think about it. Not now, when I was worn out. I knocked and after hearing nothing, entered a sort of waiting room. Hadn’t I been up here before? But no, there was no fireplace and the place was freezing. I passed through into another corridor.

  “Hello?” I called. Then louder
, “Anyone?”

  A door at the far end opened. “Max?” Juliana was fastening her cap. “What are you doing here?”

  “Looking for water…and you.”

  “Quiet. My Lady is still sleeping. What do you need water for?”

  “Washing. If you have a bucket, I’ll get it myself.”

  Juliana stepped closer, her eyes worried. Her expression reminded me of my mother and I felt a pang of sadness. “What is it?” she said.

  “Nothing.”

  “I’m going to the kitchen. Then I have to do the fires. I’ll bring you water when I return.

  She passed by me and I sniffed. Roses. I inhaled again and grasped her forearm. “Wait.”

  She giggled and pressed herself against my chest. “What?” Her doe eyes were mocking me. I was powerless. Reduced to the heat rising in my body, every cell on fire, every fiber of my being quivering, I searched for her mouth.

  I lost track kissing, her lips soft on mine. My body ached and pounded, my heart thumped. Her body felt amazing against mine, all warm and sweet. I wanted it to go on forever.

  To my disappointment she pulled away. “I have to go, Max.

  “One more minute,” I begged.

  She didn’t answer but offered me her lips. Time stopped.

  “Now I really have to go. My Lady will be displeased if her chamber is cold.” At the door, she stopped. “Go and wait in your room.”

  I crawled back into bed, reliving the encounter with Juliana. Feeling warm and relaxed I soon fell asleep. I awoke to a door slamming.

  “Sleeping like a prince, waste another day,” Bero shouted as he yanked aside the bed curtains.

  I rubbed my eyes. “What time is it?”

  Bero shrugged. “Late enough for sows to eat their second meal.”

  “Talking about sows,” I said, sitting up. “Do you remember anything new about the attack and the pig slaughter?”

  Bero slowly shook his head. His mouth quivered and I thought he might cry.

  “I know you loved them.” Better get Bero to think of something else. “I feel great.”