Once inside the castle kitchen, Ella realized that something had happened. Cook and the other women were excitedly moving about and talking loudly. Since she was supposed to be a mute, she couldn’t ask what happened—and her understanding of 1620 German wouldn’t allow it anyway—but she sensed that this was her opportunity and she didn’t want to waste it. Heike ran by holding an empty kettle and Ella put her hand out. She tried to communicate with her hands and facial expression: what is wrong? Heike blurted out: “Herr Axel’s men have been murdered in the city! Seven men slain by a warlock!”
Ella stared as the rest of the kitchen continued its frenetic activity around her. Why does this smell like Rowan? she thought, as worry and tension began to build in her chest. She dumped the wood in the basket by the fire, then strained to understand the seventeenth century German being spoken around her. When she heard the word Kloster, she felt sick to her stomach. Kloster meant convent. It was Rowan! Dear God, was this his idea of creating a distraction? What happened to the timeline? What happened to the bonfire idea? Torn between bolting for the convent immediately and going forward with her plan, she quickly realized she couldn’t waste the opportunity the disruption created—whatever its source—by leaving.
It was easy to slip out of the kitchen unnoticed. Ella grabbed a basket of freshly baked scones and went through the interior door that led deep into the castle. This time, she didn’t hide from the voices she heard ahead. With the ruckus over Axel’s murdered henchmen no one was interested in a simple kitchen worker carrying a basket of muffins through the castle. Unlike the last time, she knew exactly where she was going.
Careful not to get eye contact with anyone, Ella straightened her shoulders and acted like she had every reason to be walking down the great hall to the stone staircase that led to the upstairs rooms. She saw the stairs and again found herself praying no one would be coming down as she ascended. It was one thing to pass her disguise off at a distance of twenty feet, but quite another pressed face to face on a narrow stairwell.
She was only a few feet from the stairs when a powerful hand clamped down on her shoulder and twisted her around. She cried out and nearly dropped the basket. The man looked closely into her face. He had a lazy eye and his mouth was full of broken, brown teeth. It was all Ella could do not to cringe away from his hideous face. She recognized him as one of the castle footmen when she saw his livery and gloves.
“Wo gehen Sie?” he said.
Ella held up the basket and pointed to the stairs.
“Hat Herr Axel sie bitten?” he asked. His tone was a little less aggressive, Ella thought. She nodded, hoping she looked the picture of obsequiousness. It occurred to her that this guy probably enjoyed terrorizing the infirm but would draw the line at getting in the way of a direct order from his lordship.
“Schnell! Schnell! MACROBUTTON HTMLDirect Lass ihn nicht warten!” he shrieked. Ella turned to run up the stairs, her heart pounding. When she got to the top of the stairs, she looked down the long hall.
Her plan was to hide herself in a closet or behind a drape in order to hear something useful, then sneak out undetected. She knew if she’d shared the details of her plan with Rowan, he’d probably have tied her to the kitchen sink. Even though he knew as well as she did that they had run out of time and she was the only one who could move things forward.
She passed two closed doors down the hall. One she knew was Axel’s bedroom. She stopped in front of a closed set of double doors. She hesitated, holding the basket and trying to decide what to do. She could hear voices inside. She peeked through the gap in the hinges into the room’s interior. It was Krüger’s office. She could see a massive desk and velvet drapes on the wall behind it. Ella sucked in a breath. There, behind the desk, was none other than Axel Krüger talking to the lord of the castle, himself.
“I tell you, it will be the final crushing blow that delivers all of Germany to us,” Krüger said.
“We have enough with Heidelberg,” Axel said. He was slouching in a blatant pose of boredom and disrespect.
“For now, perhaps,” Krüger said, leaning intently toward his son and lowering his voice. “But the Prince has twisted in the wind many times and may well again on this issue.”
Axel snorted in derision but said nothing.
“My sources tell me he is sending Reicher to open the market fair in ten days time,” Krüger said.
“Eric Reicher is a fool,” Axel said. “And a papist.”
“Nonetheless,” Krüger said, “he has the Prince’s ear.”
“I will not woo the prince’s pet dog,” Axel said. “You have gone insane to even think it.”
“I would not ask you to woo him.”
“What then?”
“Kill him,” his father said. He spread out his hands in a flourish as if presenting a gift to his son.
Axel was silent for a moment and then laughed. His hand went to the hilt of his sword.
“You want me to kill him,” he said.
“Be quiet! You must tell no one of this! When the citizens of Heidelberg see that we have eliminated the Catholic emissary from Rome and along with him any chance that their precious Church of the Holy Spirit will ever be returned to the papists, we will be poised to claim all the territory between the Nekker and the Rhine. They will cheer us in the streets as their champions.”
“God’s teeth, Father, do you really think you can be king?” Axel said, still grinning. “Is that what this is about? That is a dangerous game.”
“Which is why you must tell no one until it is done,” Krüger said. “Not your men, not your whores. And it is why it must be you and no one else.”
So entranced was she in what she was hearing and so focused on trying to hear the low tones of the old man that Ella did not notice the sounds of footsteps coming up the stairs. When she finally realized that someone was coming, she whirled away from the door. The end of the hallway was too far to cross before whomever was coming was upon her. Without thinking beyond the fact that she needed to hide, she stepped through the door to the immediate left of Krüger’s office.
The room appeared to be a vacant bedroom. Ella, still clutching her basket of scones, stood behind the door and watched as Dojo, the head house butler, strode by and banged on the double doors of Krüger’s office.
“Is the kitchen making unscheduled deliveries now?”
Ella dropped her basket at the sound of the voice and turned to stare at the sight of a man kneeling by the bed. She grabbed the doorknob when she heard shouts erupt from the room next door. She looked at Christof as he slowly stood from the bed and dusted off the knees of his corduroy trousers.
“Don’t be afraid,” he said. “I won’t hurt you.”
Whether he would or wouldn’t wasn’t the issue at the moment, Ella realized. Things were happening next door and she very much needed to be off center stage when events fully erupted. Obviously, Dojo had brought the news to Axel of the attack on his men. She looked around the room in desperation for a hiding place.
“There’s always the closet, little mouse,” Christof said with a chuckle. “I, myself, have often used it to avoid certain members of my family.”
Without thinking whether she could trust him—and realizing she had no choice one way or the other, Ella grabbed her basket and ran to the closet. Without a word or a glance, she slipped in and pulled the door, leaving a crack to look through.
Within seconds, Christof’s bedroom door swung open and banged against the wall. Axel filled the doorway. Again, Ella found herself shocked by how handsome he was. His eyes were a cerulean blue that would have been dazzling if they weren’t so cold. He was dressed elegantly, but his sword, long and deadly, hung at his waist destroying any illusion of fussiness. The man was a killer, Ella reminded herself.
“He has killed three of my best men!” Axel shouted. “And Father knew! I tell you, he is soft in the head. He admitt
ed that he knew the convent harbored the evil spirit who killed the axe man and he did nothing! And now my men are dead!”
Ella couldn’t understand everything Axel said. He was ranting. But she got enough of it. The attack had been thwarted by the convent.
He knew about Rowan. And he knew where he was.
“That’s impossible, Brother,” Christof said. “Calm yourself. No evil spirit killed the axe man. Father had him killed.”
“Shut up, you bastard! Shut up!” Axel pulled out his knife and waved it in the air. “I will kill everyone at that convent. I will burn the head witch and throw her fellow witches onto the pyre like kindling!”
Ella fought a terrible urge to burst from the closet and run to the convent and warn them that an attack was imminent. She knew she was sweating and her hands were shaking just watching his display of unrestrained fury.
“Axel, be sensible!” Christof said. Ella could see him hold out a hand to his older brother. “Even you can’t justify killing a convent full of nuns. No matter what your past sins are, this is a chance for you to come into the light. Come into the full light of understanding and love that is our Lord Jesus Christ.”
Whatever else Christof had intended to tell his brother was lost in a terrible gurgle as Axel screamed incoherently and launched himself at his brother, plunging his knife into him. Stunned, Ella pulled away from the opening in the closet door. She could hear Christof’s cries and the sound of Axel stomping out of the room. As she listened, Christof’s breathing was labored and then he was silent. She burst from the closet, leaving her basket behind, and dashed down the hall.
She ran until she heard the sound of many feet pounding up the stairs. In a panic, she again turned to the nearest open door and stood in the shadows trying to catch her breath. She reasoned that as soon as the hall filled with people she would be able to escape unnoticed. She was about to leave the room when she heard the voice of Dojo heading her way. He was screaming.
“Someone get help!” he shrieked. “Herr Axel has slain his brother! Get help!”
Ella heard the pounding footsteps of several people running along the hallway. She couldn’t tell by the sound alone if there were enough people to camouflage her escape.
Shit! She backed into the room—Axel’s room—and looked around in desperation. There was absolutely no place to hide. Not a closet, not a trunk. Not even drapes. The desk was really just a huge table and open underneath. If she attempted to crouch behind it, she would be seen easily by anyone entering the room.
She had only one mad idea that might work—although it could still get her killed—and she got the idea at the very moment she heard the doorknob turning behind her.
Chapter Seventeen
Rowan watched the head butler march down the hall, swinging open every door and looking into every room with his small cadre of castle guards down the hallway. The hall was full of people, most of them useless now that there didn’t seem to be anybody with authority in the castle to tell them what to do. There was just enough turmoil going on because of the attack on the brother that Rowan had easily managed to join the throng of servants, visiting noblemen and landowners clogging the narrow hall to get a peek at the dead man. He was dressed as a priest but because of his six foot three frame, the hem of his frock fell only to mid calf. In all the panic, however, no one had given him a single questioning glance.
He watched the butler stop in front of a pair of heavy double doors at the end of the hall. Rowan touched his Glock under his robe. If Ella was behind those doors, he knew he couldn’t save her by shooting the place up before he was overpowered, but neither could he let them just take her without a fight. He stood silently and watched the butler jerk open the doors. He prayed she wasn’t there, prayed she hadn’t been so stupid or foolhardy to hide in one of the bedrooms.
Rowan tensed and put his finger on the trigger of the pistol as the butler stood in the opening of the doors.
“What are you doing here, Fraulein?” the butler said with obvious surprise.
“Herr Axel?” Ella’s voice answered.
Shit! Rowan thought. He pushed roughly past two servant boys who were trying to see inside.
By God, they would all go down fighting if they even laid a finger on her!
Rowan moved to the open doorway. The guards standing there lowered their weapons and were looking inside.
Ella was sitting demurely in the center of the large bed.
Completely naked.
“You will wait a long time for Herr Axel, I’m afraid, Fraulein,” Dojo said, snickering, and staring at Ella’s full breasts on display for everyone to see. He turned and dismissed the guards. “Keep checking the other rooms,” he ordered. “I will see to the Fraulein.”
Oh, hell no, Rowan thought, as he barged into the room. He heard Ella gasp and pull the duvet up to her chin. Nice, he thought. For me, she covers up.
“What is the meaning of this?” Dojo said to Rowan. “Get out at once!”
“Okay, now I’m gonna shoot your skinny ass in about ten seconds,” Rowan said as Ella hopped off the bed and ran between them.
“Nein! Nein!” she said. She turned to Dojo, and said, “Mein Bruder ist ein Dummkopf.”
Dojo looked at her and then at Rowan. “He speaks a foreign tongue,” Dojo said.
“No, he speaks gibberish,” Ella said. “He is mentally impaired.”
Dojo did a slow up and down of Ella’s naked body as she stood before him. He watched as Rowan reached out and took her by the arm.
“Take him and leave at once,” Dojo said to Ella, his voice heavy with resignation. “Herr Axel is in exile. You would do well never to return. Tell his other whores.”
Ella turned to collect the clothes she had sloughed off seconds before he opened the door.
“Immediately!” he shouted, and Ella ran from the room without her clothes, dragging Rowan behind her.
Twenty minutes later, outside the castle walls, she walked quickly toward the convent wearing Rowan’s robe. Rowan, dressed in his peasant shirt and pants, walked one step behind her. They walked silently since they knew that speaking English could get them instantly killed by anyone who happened to overhear, but also because Ella knew that Rowan was absolutely fuming.
As soon as they got into the convent kitchen, she turned on him: “I had it handled, Rowan. You need to work on your control issues.”
“And you need to work on how fast you’re able to get naked.”
“I thought you liked that particular skill set of mine.”
“I can’t believe you’re trying to be funny,” he said, daggers in his eyes. “You know how close you came to being raped today? If I hadn’t been there? And don’t tell me you would’ve talked him out of it.”
“It would’ve been bad,” Ella admitted, settling on a kitchen stool and massaging her sore bare feet. “But it would’ve been better than being hanged in the courtyard.”
Greta came into the room and made the sign of the cross.
“God is blessing us beyond my power to understand why,” she said. “But I fear our protection is at an end.” She turned to Ella. “Did you hear about the men your husband killed today saving our novices?”
“I did. It was the whole reason I was able to sneak in and get the intel we need.”
“You found out something?” Rowan said with surprise. “Something useful?”
“For starters…” Ella turned to Greta. “Axel killed Christof today. I saw it. And then he ran like hell. I guess there’s still some kind of law in Heidelberg he fears?”
“Christof is dead?” Greta gasped.
“Yes, and that’s bad,” Ella said, “but it’s bought us time. And that’s good. They know about you, Rowan.” She turned to him. “Axel may yet risk coming here for vengeance.”
“First things first,” Rowan said. He sat down next to her.
“You mean my intel?” Ella said.
“I was going to say, beat your ass, but I guess we could hear w
hat you found out first.” He scooped her off the bench onto his lap and she wrapped her arms around his neck.
“Sorry,” she murmured into his neck. “I just thought it would be better my way.”
“How many times am I gonna hear that throughout our marriage?” he said in a low voice, but he kissed her neck. She felt his arms tighten around her. They sat quietly, holding each other.
“Sorry, Greta,” Ella said, pulling away first.
“No, please,” Greta said. “I understand completely. It has been a tense day for us all.”
“The girls?” Rowan asked.
“Alice’s hands are cut deep but nothing that won’t heal,” Greta said. “Ceci is fine.”
“And emotionally?”
“You saved them, Marshal,” Greta said. “They both know, if not for you, they would be at the castle now or dead.”
“What happened?” Ella asked.
“A bunch of Axel’s goons tried to take the girls when we were heading to the goat pasture.”
“You were carrying your gun?”
“What’s the point of having it if I’m not gonna carry it?”
“Good point, I guess.”
Greta twisted the hemp rope around her waist and bit her lip as she looked at the two. “Christof dead and Axel gone?” she said softly. “I cannot believe that is possible.”
“Believe it, Greta,” Ella said, reaching out to touch her friend’s hand. “I think your problems just got handled and we didn’t have to do a thing.”
“I cannot believe it,” Greta repeated.
Later that night, Ella and Rowan sat in bed talking in hushed tones. They had barely made it to the bed before they were ripping each other’s clothes off, such was their urgency to connect and forgive, to love and get release after their day of risk and terror. Rowan was rougher with her than he had ever been before. His caresses seemed more possessive. Ella understood. He had been afraid, too.
Later, as they lay entwined on the rough pallet of their bed, she kissed his hands and placed them on her breasts.
Heidelberg Effect Page 20
