At Witches' End

by Annette Oppenlander

  “I need to tell you something,” I started. “I wanted to say it earlier, but you had to ride into battle and didn’t want to listen…remember?”

  Bero ripped a hunk of bread in two, dunking the piece into the greasy broth on his plate. “Sure, let me hear your tale.”

  “It’s about your mother.” I swallowed. “She died.”

  There. I said it.

  Bero stopped chewing, his hazelnut eyes turning dark. “What happened?”

  “Schwarzburg’s soldiers beat her, trying to get information about me. When I first showed up, I stopped by your old place to ask about you. They wouldn’t let me in the castle and—”

  “What happened to Mutter?”

  “They broke her wrist. She couldn’t work any longer and the arm became infected.”

  Bero hurled the half-eaten bread on the table so hard, it bounced and skidded to a stop near a platter of pears.

  “Why did they not ask for me? Adela could have come to Hanstein. I would have helped her.”

  “We were gone, remember,” I said quietly. “And the Hanstein guards wouldn’t let her see Juliana.”

  “The poor woman. She worked so hard.” Bero stuck his elbows on the table and lowered his head. He wept silently, the same crying I’d noticed with Adela.

  “There is more,” I said. “Adela went to work for Ott. She owed for the funeral and the priest made her. We have to help—”

  Bero had reached his limit of bad news and bounced out of his seat. He angrily wiped his face with his sleeve and marched off.

  I considered following and dismissed the idea. If it were me, I’d want to be alone. Bero deserved to have privacy to come to grips with his loss. Even if he’d not seemed particularly close to his mother, she was the one who’d held it together.

  Just like my own mom.

  I took a piece of bread and picked at it listlessly. How I wanted to see her. She’d been there for me all the time. She might as well be on Mars or in Africa. For the hundredth time I thought of my missing cape. If I didn’t find it soon, I might never return home.

  I took a large sip, swallowing the lump in my throat. I sure felt like a cry baby today. Getting up quietly I made my way to the barn.

  I heard sobbing, but I was too exhausted to take another step. Bero was grieving back there.

  I couldn’t imagine losing my mother.

  Chapter 23

  When I entered the courtyard the next morning, Luanda shuffled toward the gate. On a whim I ran after her.

  “Hey, Luanda, wait.”

  The old witch turned and looked at me, her raincloud eyes alert and her head at an angle, reminding me of a crow. “Max Nerds. You’ve worn thin with adventure. It’s dangerous to be weak. Winter is coming. I must give you tea for strength.”

  “I thought you’d left. And I’m sorry Lord Hans was nasty to you. I didn’t mean…”

  “No matter, it is his way. He suffered greatly when Dörnberg destroyed his leg and his chances to run Hanstein. Hans is the elder, but Werner is the face to the world.”

  “How is Werner?”

  “Too early to say. He lost much blood and his injuries are deep. Lady Clara is with him. So are his sons. We must be positive.”

  I swallowed, the knot in my throat growing. It was impossible to think of Hanstein without Werner. He couldn’t die.

  “Can I visit him?”

  “It isn’t my decision.” Luanda hesitated as if she were making up her mind about something. She turned left toward the gardens. “You can help me harvest. The bending is a curse.” She handed me an old knife with a curved blade like a miniature scythe. I wondered how old she was. She may as well have been fifty or eighty.

  An hour later I sat in the cavernous kitchen, sipping elderberry flower and rosemary tea.

  “This will have to do,” Luanda said as she inspected her herb stash spread out in front of her. “You need the pressings of elderberries, but they’re at my cottage. You’ll want to visit soon, Max.” Her eyes rested on me in that knowing way.

  “Did you know Karl?” I asked on a whim. “He was a prisoner, used to live in the forest.” I didn’t really know why I’d asked except that it was so strange how she could know so much. Again, she tilted her head, her dark eyes on me.

  “He was in a bad state,” she said. “Is he…gone?”

  I nodded. Somehow she knew. She hadn’t asked if he’d died. I wondered if she’d help me with my missing cloak or Ott. Adela had to be rescued soon before it was too late. Bero had darkly hinted as much.

  “I must attend to Enders.” Luanda abruptly stood and picked up one of the tiny clay jars. She straightened with a deep sigh and waddled toward the door where she turned. “You coming?”

  I gulped my tea and jumped up.

  After the knighting and wedding, Enders and Juliana had moved to a room on the third floor of the main house. I had mixed feelings. I really didn’t care to visit my former rival, nor did I particularly want to run into Juliana. In fact, I was sort of mad at Luanda for expecting me to go along. Maybe Juliana had told her something.

  Enders lay on a mattress of horsehair and straw, not much wider than his shoulders. His head was wrapped with strips of pale linen, matching the pallor of his face. His eye sockets in contrast were almost black from the settling bruises, reminding me of an owl. He was covered under a humongous hide, a patchwork of beaver skins, Werner had given them for their wedding. His eyes were closed and he lay very still.

  Juliana sat next to her husband with a stone bowl of greenish liquid. She nodded at Luanda, but when she noticed me she quickly looked away.

  How did he and Juliana fit on such a narrow bed? Enough, I scolded myself.

  “Has he spoken?” Luanda said.

  Juliana shook her head. Her cheeks showed traces of tears.

  “Continue bathing his bruises with the Lady’s Mantle.” Luanda opened the clay pot. “Arnica heals all wounds. She patted Juliana on the arm and moved to the bed where she gently undid the linen.

  Then she bent closely, her eyes five inches from Enders’s head. I stared trying not to show how shocked I was. Enders skull had been slashed with something blunt. Purple and dark blue bruising covered his entire forehead. The swan-egg sized bump disappeared into the edge of his hairline.

  Luanda kept eyeing the wound, then carefully, smeared it with a generous helping of the strong smelling salve. She replaced the bandage and straightened to massage her lower back.

  “Nature makes him rest until his skull has healed enough. It is cracked and there is swelling underneath. He must not be moved.”

  Juliana nodded, her eyes shiny with fresh tears. I wondered how Luanda could possibly know about swelling on the brain.

  “I shall come again this evening,” Luanda said. She closed the door behind her without waiting for me.

  At a loss of what to say I moved to the window. “You’ve got a nice view.” It wasn’t really great, as the window was mostly facing toward the keep and I only made out a sliver of the unfolding valleys beyond, but what was I supposed to say. Luanda was an idiot to make me come up here. I should’ve refused, pretended I had other things to do.

  “I am sorry, Max,” Juliana said.

  I turned to look at my old love. She still sat next to Enders with her back to him and her head lowered.

  I suddenly felt sorry for her and, to my greatest surprise, for the big young man on the bed. “It was my fault. All of this was my fault,” I stammered.

  “No, I…made a mistake.” Juliana joined me at the window and gripped my hand. “I thought you had died, I was sad and lonely. I needed…someone to protect me.”

  “I know,” I said. “You did the right thing. I know that now. You’ll be safe with Enders. He’s a good man.”

  Juliana squeezed my hand. “About that night, I…”

  My cheeks flamed. “It’s fine. I didn’t know you were going to marry the next day. But it’s fine now.” And I realized that it was.

  Juliana sti
ll held on to my hand. “Bero told me about mother and Adela. Will you help him get our sister from Lord Ott? You know what Ott did…”

  I nodded. How could I forget the first time I’d seen Juliana? Her leg infected from a pitchfork attack after Ott hadn’t gotten his way. “The bastard. We’ll think of something. Just take care of your husband.” Suddenly the guilt of causing their mother’s death came crashing in. “I never should’ve visited,” I mumbled.

  “What are you saying?”

  “I…the day I returned I stopped by the hut. Your mother was scared and sent me away. But Schwarzburg’s men had recognized me. They beat her up.” My voice cracked.

  “It was that terrible evil man.” She patted my arm abstractedly. “Just like Master Ott.” Her doe eyes sank into mine. “Promise me you will help. I already spoke with Lord Hans. Adela is welcome to join us at Hanstein. One of the girls in the kitchen is with child. She will move back to the village.”

  “I’ll do all I can.”

  I lightly kissed her on the forehead and left. As I climbed back down to the courtyard, I realized I hadn’t noticed any thrilling sensation when she’d taken my hand.

  She had felt like a sister.

  Chapter 24

  “Max Nerds,” one of the servants said, “His Lordship sent for you.” I’d been on my way to the outer bailey where sword practice was in full swing. I really wanted to talk to Bero and not Hans right now. But maybe Hans had an idea what to do about Ott.

  Somewhat distracted I followed the man into the great hall.

  Hans had placed himself in his brother’s chair, reviewing a leather-bound book. He held a quill and was drawing careful letters onto parchment, the medieval method of taking notes. The hall had been straightened though the odor of stale grease and alcohol lingered.

  “My Lord,” I said. It sounded hollow in the empty expanse of the huge room. I couldn’t help but be nervous. Werner had always unsettled me, but Hans was a hundred times worse.

  Hans carefully placed his quill on the table and leaned back. He appeared strained, the lines around his mouth deep grooves, his jaw tight. His eyes burned darkly. Something was brewing.

  “Let me not waste time,” Hans said. “You have been my guest off and on, helped greatly with the defense of Hanstein. And I am…indebted for it. What I will not put up with is meddling in Hanstein’s affairs and conjuring. It is devil’s work.” Lame Hans crossed himself.

  I shivered in the dank hall. What did he want?

  “It has been reported by the prisoners of Heiligenstadt, in particular Lord Westhausen, that one of my captives disappeared. Not putting much stock into what a Heiligenstädter says, I investigated the matter.” Hans paused to look at me.

  “Do you know what I found?”

  I stood unable to move. Neither my legs nor brain functioned.

  “Absolutely nothing,” Hans continued. “One Karl Sauer, at least that is the name he gave when he was arrested, has disappeared. Nobody has seen him. In fact, the last time he was seen, he was still in Hanstein’s holding. And the men in that same cell swear that you handed something to Karl and that he dissolved into thin air.”

  I opened my mouth to speak, yet here was a problem I couldn’t explain away. Not in any form Lame Hans would understand.

  “To make matters worse, Karl was my brother’s captive. When he learns of this, he will not be too fond of your continued presence. Werner will demand justice and I shall not stop him. What have you to say about it?” Hans leaned sideways to stretch his rigid shoulder.

  “My Lord, I’m sorry. I’ll try to explain the best I can. I’m not a conjurer, just a normal kid, I mean a lad.”

  “Need I remind you that the judgment in Heiligenstadt also mentioned some ungodly talent, a sorcerer who commands fire?” Hans’s voice had adopted an edge.

  “I know how it looks. But you must believe me that I’m a regular guy.”

  “I must do no such thing. And you are far from normal in these parts or any other I have seen.”

  My legs shook as I fought for inspiration, the threat of justice echoing through my mind. After all I’d done and gone through, I’d be found guilty of witchcraft after all. “Have you ever heard of something called time-travel?” I said aloud.

  Hans frowned, the brown of his eyes turning a shade darker. “It is nothing but a tale.”

  I bowed. “May I tell you a tale then? And let you judge for yourself.” My time to hide was over. Hans nodded and waved at the bench to his right.

  I sagged down, feeling small and unimportant. “My Lord, you may remember when I first appeared at your castle two years ago? I’d traveled through a sort of tunnel while playing a game and your brother…everyone thought I was joking. A jester. After a few weeks I vanished. Nobody saw me leave until a few weeks ago when I showed up again.”

  Hans’s face was stony.

  “As fantastic as it may seem, I traveled from afar. To be exact, I’ve come from a different time…in the future.” Hans’s right eye twitched, but he remained still. I admired him for his self-control. I would’ve jumped up and smacked me silly.

  “And this time-travel, Max Nerds. How does it work?”

  I shrugged. “I’m not sure except that I played a game and when I clicked—”

  “Clicked?”

  “Yeah.” I stared at the man who was smarter than anyone I’d met here. Even smarter than Werner. But how to describe a computer, let alone computer games? “I can’t explain it exactly, but I was sucked into this game and landed…here.”

  “Where did you come from?” Hans’s voice was almost inaudible.

  “I live in the year 2015…right here.”

  “Impossible.” Hans jumped from his seat and began to limp along the side of the table. He didn’t seem angry as much as frustrated.

  I nodded, fighting to remain calm. “I didn’t believe it either when it happened.”

  “What is your purpose then? Why did you return?”

  “All I know is that I have to do certain things, like save lives and help people. I think the squire thing was important.”

  “Squire thing?”

  I bowed my head. “It’s a great honor, My Lord. Anyway, I returned because I felt bad after your brother made me squire. And I worried about Bero and Juliana. Ott was really mad at them…us.”

  “And how does this thing, this time-travel relate to Karl Sauer?”

  “He played the same game and stayed longer. You have to have all the modern things you carried into the game before you can leave. Karl was really sick and he’d lost his wallet.”

  “Wallet?”

  “His coin purse. That’s what he needed to return. And after I found the purse at the Klausenhof, I gave it to him and he traveled back home.” I left out that I’d met Karl in present day after he’d returned and before I’d reentered the game. It was just one too many things to explain.

  Hans stopped pacing and kneaded the top of his chair, a carved lion’s head.

  “He would’ve died if I hadn’t helped him.” I remembered something and dug inside my boot. The lighter was cool in my hand as I stretched out a palm. “This is the trinket I used to make fire. It is something everyone carries where I come from. The lighter contains combustible…burnable fluid. It is no more witchcraft than this table.” I pounded a fist on the worn oak for emphasis.

  Hans slowly leaned forward, eyeing the suspicious plastic. “Show me.”

  I struck the wheel and watched Hans across the flame. He flinched but caught himself. “A trinket everyone uses, you say?”

  I nodded.

  “May I keep it?” Hans held out a hand.

  “I’m sorry, but if I give it to you, I won’t be able to go home…to my mom…mother. I must take all the things with me that I brought.”

  Hans winced as he reclaimed his seat. My chest grew tight as I imagined Hans as a young man with his hopes and dreams destroyed by a slashing knife.

  “Are all your kind healers?”

  �
�I learned about herbs from my mother and I studied books.”

  “She is a witch?”

  “No, no, she works at a bank… I mean she works with money…coin.”

  “And your betrothed?”

  “Who?”

  “You have a maiden, I presume.”

  My mind danced. Was that a trick question? Images of a girl with red hair and green eyes flashed through my mind. Impossible.

  “Not at the moment.”

  Hans slowly nodded, his eyes still on my face. “I do know lies,” he said. “And I do not believe you are lying, but—”

  “My Lord, Squire Bero wishes to speak to you.” The servant from earlier bowed low.

  I expected Hans would send me away, but the Lord simply nodded and waved Bero close.

  “Squire Bero, state your business.”

  Throwing a curious glance in my direction Bero bowed, sweeping one leg behind the other. “My Lord, I beg your attention to an urgent matter which cannot wait.” His gaze fell on my hand which still lay outstretched with the lighter on top like an altar offering. Momentarily distracted he cleared his throat. “Ehem, I ask your help in rescuing my sister, Adela.” When Hans didn’t answer, he continued.

  “Your Lordship, she is with Master Ott and I fear for her safety, that he will violate her just as he attacked Juliana.”

  Hans waved an impatient arm. “I already said I will allow her to work in the kitchens.”

  “I know, but I…” Bero’s gaze returned to the lighter. “Ott supposedly paid for our mother’s funeral and so we owe him a debt. He will not let her go without imbursement.”

  “You are asking for coin?” Hans’s right brow arched and disappeared under the dark mass of hair on his forehead.

  “I guess I am.” Bero bowed again.

  “It is a meager time at Hanstein,” Hans said. “The castle has had much to endure with the livestock being stolen. The harvest was poor this year and we had to hire men I am indebted to. Winter is coming and our cellars do not provide enough for the people at Hanstein. I am afraid, Squire, I cannot assist with coin this time. In fact, we must indenture one of our villages to pay our debts.”