As we rounded the corner and entered one of the narrow trails, everything came to a standstill. In front of us we heard mooing. Lots of mooing.
Our path was clogged with cows: black and white, speckled browns and solid grays. They banged against each other, heads and bodies scraping past house walls and spilling into side alleys.
Slowly, they moved toward the city gates, the prisoners stumbling among them, trying to avoid the pointed horns which could easily skewer a man.
“What is going on?” I yelled over the mayhem of the cattle, the whistling and shouting of the herding riders and the cries of the prisoners. Here and there, a pale face stared from a side street or from a window, but most citizens had gone into hiding, afraid to share the fate of the courthouse crowd.
“Werner is taking his herds back,” Bero shouted. “Schwarzburg and Westhausen stole them from the villages. The Lord must have gone to hire soldiers.” I remembered Lady Clara telling me about Werner’s hasty departure.
Beyond the gate, cattle clogged the road as far as we could see. Along the city’s outer walls, more knights and swordsmen joined up. I recognized a few Hanstein crests, but many had the same unfamiliar colors I’d first noticed on the market square.
Werner had summoned lots of help.
“Wait up,” someone yelled behind us.
I twisted to see who was coming, but Bero already cried, “Enders, a welcome sight.”
Pushing his horse past cows and riders, Enders guided his mare next to our gelding. Dressed in brown leather pants and a felted wool doublet, he carried the banner of Hanstein, the white crest with the three black quarter-moons. His other hand rested on the hilt of his long sword. Even I had to admit that Enders looked formidable.
Compared to him, I felt small and insignificant—a scrawny excuse of a wannabe squire. Even if I was smarter, it didn’t matter much here. No wonder Juliana had fallen for the guy. Still I couldn’t help glowering as Enders and Bero exchanged news.
I was glad when Enders left. I had no use for him, the wound of Juliana’s betrayal too fresh. It wasn’t exactly fair to expect her to wait for me. But did she have to throw herself at the next best guy?
There was still time now that I’d survived. She wasn’t married yet.
The realization of having escaped unharmed overwhelmed me. Deep inside me something began to push upward, through my throat, out my mouth. I began to giggle. First quietly my body trembled with waves of emotion. Then louder until at last I hooted.
That’s what lol really meant. My friends had no idea. Bero glanced over his shoulder and when he saw me contorted with laughter, he at first chuckled and then joined in full blast.
So we rode, both of us howling until tears ran down our cheeks, ignoring the stares from Werner’s troops, the bellowing of the herd and the grunting of the prisoners.
We were safe.
Chapter 15
By afternoon we reached a river. I had long since quit laughing. My fingertips had blistered from the savage heat of the cobbled pavement and smothering the fire on my pants, my stomach was an empty pouch and my bottom throbbed in the saddle.
I was out of shape, lying around in the tiny cell for weeks.
To my relief riders and herd finally stopped. As the cattle began grazing the rich meadows of grasses, dandelion and sorrel, the men broke into smaller groups and started cook fires. I sniffed hungrily as the aroma of fried meat rose from pans and the clanking of flagons promised wine and beer. I didn’t know what I wanted more. Wet my throat, feed my starved body or take a swim and wash away the disgusting filth.
“I’m going for a swim,” I announced, sliding off the horse. The river murmured and sent a cool breeze my way. The prospect of washing and drinking my fill was too tempting. “Go and find Konrad. I’ll be right there.”
Walking toward one of the tents, Hanstein’s crest on the banner marking it Werner’s domicile, Bero shouted something like Max Nerds and bathing fool followed by sniggers, before I was out of earshot.
I hurried upstream until the noise of the cattle and army dwindled into a low buzz. I no longer cared that anyone saw me naked, but I wanted clean water, undisturbed by pissing men and cow dung.
A patch of cattails gently moved in the breeze, the air pleasantly warm despite the overcast October sky. I stripped and clambered into the water, marveling at the black smudges on my ribs, the stripy muck my pants had left along my waist and my black toes. I jumped in headfirst and swam until grime and worry left my body.
The water cooled my blisters and the tender skin of my arms and feet. Then I washed my clothes, rubbing them until the worst dirt had swum downriver. They’d never be clean again, not by my mother’s standards who used extra expensive detergent to keep everything white as daisies. A piece of soap would’ve been luxury.
Dusk was turning everything gray when I approached Werner’s group. Bero sat, his chin slick with grease, one fist holding a hunk of some roasted bird and the other a pewter mug. By the way his cheeks glowed he’d been drinking several.
“Max Nerds,” Konrad said, “a surprise visit after all this time.” He was an inch taller than Werner, his eyebrows matching the rich brown of his hair. I didn’t remember the bashed-in nose from last time. Konrad had been in some skirmish. “We worried you’d been eaten by wolves or thrown in a dungeon. And it appears we were right.” Several of the men laughed. “Surely, you weren’t in Schwarzburg’s jail all this time. It is no small feat to survive the man’s hospitality.”
“Bero already entertained us with tales of your ordeal.” Werner reclined on a blanket of beaver pelts, and now leaned forward. “What say you, Max Nerds? Will you tell us your version of what happened?
“About that trinket that got Schwarzburg all riled. But first give him something to eat. He looks like a deer after a long winter.” I followed Werner’s gaze to my bare chest where you could count ribs. I’d definitely lost weight. My shoulders were square and bony. I hung my wet shirt near the fire and slumped down. Someone thrust a hunk of bread into my hand, followed by a piece of roast and a flagon.
Bero raised his mug. “To us,” he shouted.
I took a sip, unprepared for the sour taste of the wine. I’d much preferred a nice coke or orange juice. But the bread tasted decent though I wished Bero hadn’t mentioned the lighter.
“I traveled away for a while,” I began.
“So, we noticed,” Konrad said.
“Let him speak his peace,” Werner said.
“Anyway, I returned because I…wanted to help. I didn’t know how much time had passed and when I arrived, they didn’t recognize me at the Hanstein gate.”
“You could have asked for Bero.” Konrad said. “He was the squire in charge.”
“The guards refused,” I said. It seemed like a hundred years ago. “So I came in a different way.
“What do you mean, a different way?” Konrad said.
I remembered my narrow escape from Schwarzburg’s troops. “I hid on a wagon that delivered wine barrels to Hanstein.” I left out that it had been a coincidence the merchants had gone to Hanstein. “And when I found Lady Clara, I had to help her.”
“What happened?” Werner interjected. I could’ve sworn, his voice quivered at the mention of the Lady.
“The medicos nearly killed her with terrible smoke. She couldn’t breathe at all, so I treated her. She was much better when we left.”
“The medicos is skilled in the art of healing,” Konrad said.
More like the art of murdering. “I used the herbs from your garden. Anyway, she was recovering. After they threw me in the dungeon, she got me out.”
“Wait a minute,” Konrad said. “What dungeon?”
“Lame Hans, I mean the Lord of Hanstein, thought I’d messed with the lady’s treatment. That I was there uninvited.”
“Which you were…” Werner said dryly.
“Lady Clara asked Lame Hans to let me out of the dungeon,” I continued. From the corner of my eye I notice
d that the group of listeners had been steadily growing. Werner’s knights all wanted to hear what the weird-looking visitor had to say. “I’d left my cape at the inn when they chased me.”
“Who chased you?” Konrad’s eyes sparkled in the fire.
“Wait,” Werner said. “Tell me what Lady Clara did?”
“She was much better and asked Lame Hans…your brother to release me…as long as I continued to help her.”
“Instead you ran off and abandoned her.”
“I had to,” I said as Werner’s eyes clouded over, the blue turning to steel.
Hindsight, it seemed like the wrong thing to do. Why hadn’t I stayed with Lady Clara until I was sure she’d healed completely? If the medicos got a hold of her again, she’d be dead. And he’d blame me and get away with it. I began to tremble.
Hans had ordered me to help. If something happened to Lady Clara, Hans he’d throw me back in the dungeon. Werner would kill me.
“I had to,” I said again quietly. Werner was angry and I suddenly felt as afraid as this morning when I was going to die at the stake. In a way it was worse. I wanted to please Werner because I cared about him, admired him.
“Max Nerds needs to rest. We shall leave at dawn,” Werner announced, his voice granite. As the men returned to their fires, Werner gripped my arm. “A word?”
I nodded and followed the Lord away from the tent. Bero had curled up in his customary ball, undoubtedly passed out from the wine.
“You disappoint me, Max,” Werner said. “The Lady was at your mercy. If you desire to follow the rules of chivalry, one day become a knight, you must learn to protect those who cannot help themselves.”
Werner had gotten the medicos in the first place. It was at least partially his fault that Lady Clara had gotten this sick.
“I’m sorry,” I mumbled. “I’ll take care of her as soon as we return.”
“That is exactly what you shall do,” Werner said. “You leave now. Quietly. Hanstein is close. Take squire Bero with you.”
I only nodded. There was nothing else to say.
Hurrying back to the fire, I grabbed my shirt and shook Bero. “Wake up.”
Bero mumbled something and swiped at the annoying hand on his arm. I yanked harder.
“What is it?”
“Let’s go,” I whispered.
“Now? Let me sleep. We go in the morning.”
“Lord Werner ordered it,” I hissed. The men didn’t pay attention and I wanted to keep it that way. Werner would be furious if his soldiers found out. Though they all had to know there was more to it than protecting a lady in distress. Bero grumbled something and staggered off to find our horse. Away from the camp, we climbed on and rode into the darkness.
“You know the way?” I asked.
“Think so.”
“Make it know so,” I said. “Werner will have our heads if we get lost.”
“I will try,” Bero slurred. “Arse-pimpled wine. I am sleepy.”
“Pay attention,” I said much louder than I’d intended. Idiot. Why did he have to drink like a starved alcoholic after having had little to eat for weeks? He’d be sick in the morning. Served him right.
From the saddle it was nearly impossible to make out a path or even the landscape. The clouds hid the moon and I had to trust the horse to keep us on the right track. I should’ve asked for one of the soldiers to come along. By the way Bero held his head, he was at least dozing if not outright sleeping. Damn idiot.
Werner had said it wasn’t far. What was that supposed to mean: an hour, three or five? He’d have my head on a platter. He might anyway if Lady Clara was sick again. Or worse. I bit my lip, hard, to make the panic go away. I couldn’t allow myself to think that she had died.
We kept going. It was excruciatingly slow, but I was afraid the horse would trip or we’d go off some cliff. I tried remembering our march to Heiligenstadt. I’d been too sick and thirsty to pay attention. At least my wrist had healed while we sat in Schwarzburg’s cell.
I knew the ground was supposed to rise. Hanstein sat on top of a rock, more than 1,200 feet above sea level. That meant we had to climb soon. The anxiety of Werner’s wrath kept me going though I felt dizzy and nauseated with exhaustion. The greasy meat didn’t help. I kept burping, the acid rising to my throat.
“Wake up,” I tried, shaking Bero’s arm. I got nothing but grunts.
The land rose slowly now, but by no means did it climb steep enough. I had no clue how long we’d been riding or how far we’d gone. All I knew was that it was easy to miss Hanstein. Trusting the horse was a bad idea. It probably had its home in some other stable.
When I estimated an additional hour had passed and I still didn’t notice the ground slope upward, I stopped. We’d have to wait till dawn. It was my only chance. Then we’d ride like the wind.
And hope we’d make it before Werner showed up.
“Wake up.”
I opened my eyes.
Bero’s face hovered above me. “Why are we not in camp?” He looked confused. “Where are we?” And after a yawn. “I am sick.” He stumbled sideways, fell on his knees and puked.
Lady Clara! I sat up in alarm. It was morning all right, birds trilling in a clump of wild rosebushes, rosehips bright against yellowed leaves. We were in some kind of pasture, patches of old dung like pockmarks in the grass. I jumped up, my heart racing as I fought down new panic.
To our left, the ground rose steeply. Too steep to climb. Beyond the pasture, the land opened up on rolling hills. They sort of looked familiar, but I wasn’t sure.
Bero had stopped retching, his face a shade of green.
“Why do you always have to drink like that?” I yelled. My gut was ready to explode like Bero’s even though I’d had only a thimble of booze, fury and dread fighting a battle. “Tell me if you know where we are? We must get to the castle right this minute.”
“Why?”
“Don’t ask stupid questions. Where are we?”
“How would I know? Why did we ride off in the middle of the night? Why are we not with the Lord like the others?”
“Because he asked… ordered me to go to Hanstein immediately and take care of Lady Clara.”
Bero stared.
“Hello, anyone home this morning.” I was ready to spit.
Bero rubbed his forehead. “My skull is pounding like a blacksmith’s hammer. What direction did we come from?”
I did a 360-degree turn. I had no idea. I was sure I’d been on the path that wound its way along the pasture. Above us a feeble sun threw long shadows. That had to be east…where Heiligenstadt was. And we were traveling west. Hanstein was southwest. It had to be behind the hill. Somewhere along here, a trail turned off toward Bornhagen. The question was, had we passed it or was it still coming?
“Let’s go,” I said, swallowing another curse. I mounted the horse which had been grazing nearby. Then I held out a hand to help Bero who looked even greener into the saddle. “If you have to barf, do it from up here. We have to hurry. See if you recognize anything.”
I decided to go toward the sun. Chances were great we’d missed the path in the darkness. When I pushed the horse into a trot, Bero moaned. I ignored him.
“I think this is the road to Heiligenstadt,” he mumbled.
“Yeah, I know. But some place we’ve got to turn toward Bornhagen and Hanstein.” The hills to our right were flattening.
Bero suddenly groaned. “This way. I have been hither before.”
“Finally.” I urged the horse with my heels and we fell into a gallop.
“I must purge.” Hardly had Bero spoken when he leaned forward and heaved. I kept an arm on him so he wouldn’t fall off, thankful for the riding lessons I’d taken last year and my adventures with my horse, Frank, in New Mexico.
The path rose higher, then leveled, a line of oak trees to our left. The region had gotten their name from it: Oakfield. When at last I recognized Hanstein’s towers in the distance, I impatiently kicked the hors
e’s flanks. We rushed through Bornhagen, kicking up dust and assorted debris.
I didn’t care, not even when a couple of women stepped into the path. They jumped aside cursing, landing in the muddy filth. I hardly glanced at the Klausenhof as we rode past.
In front of the Hanstein gate I slid to the ground.
A guard hurried to meet us, hastily straightening his tunic and helmet.
“State your business,” he yelled before coming to a stop in front of me.
“I have urgent business from Lord Werner,” I said. “He’ll arrive very soon himself, along with a group of men and cattle.”
“Cattle?”
“Yeah, he got a bunch of cows.” I stopped, throwing an angry glance at Bero who hadn’t said a word and looked sick again. I was wasting time. “I must see Lady Clara at once. Lord Werner sent us ahead.”
The guard shook his head. “Lord Werner arrived a while ago. He said he went ahead to arrange a feast.”
I opened my mouth though nothing came out. Not a single word formed in my paralyzed brain.
“Let us in,” Bero announced from the saddle. “I am parched.”
“Welcome, Squire Bero. You seem…unwell.”
“I am, good man,” Bero said. “Now open the gate.”
I stood incapable of moving. I was too late. Werner had already arrived. We’d wasted valuable time. If Lady Clara was sick or worse…
“Get on, Nitwit.” Bero held out a hand.
I remounted and we made our way toward the barn. The courtyard was swarming with maids, running to and from, carrying buckets and bundles.
“Take care of the horse,” I yelled before sprinting past the great hall where five or six servant girls were setting tables. I took two steps at once which was pretty hard because of the windy staircase. My temples hammered.
I burst into the outer chamber of Lady Clara’s quarters. Empty.
“My Lady?” I yelled. “It’s Max Nerds.” When I heard nothing, I pushed open the second door. The windows stood open, the breeze moving the bed curtains with ghostly fingers. My heart was ready to burst from my chest as I strode around the bedpost and slowly pulled aside the drapes.
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