As they approached the town gate, Rapunzel stared up in awe at the brick wall around the town. People were coming and going through the opening, which was guarded by two men. The guards were dressed similarly to Sir Gerek, each with a sword on his hip, but were not nearly as handsome.
Rapunzel followed her mother, who ignored the guards and walked through. Rapunzel glanced at the one nearest her. He pinned her with a severe look. His expression was even more frightening than Sir Gerek’s scowl. She expected him to grab her by the arm and order her to stay out of Hagenheim since such a rustic peasant girl, as poor and unsophisticated as she, did not belong in a grand town like Hagenheim. But he said nothing, and she walked on through.
Rapunzel was wearing her brown wool kirtle, which laced up to her neck. She wore the outer sleeves, which were tied on with leather laces, over the white sleeves of her underdress. She had never thought about it before, but her clothes must look rather drab and ugly compared to most of the other dresses around her.
She shrank as far into her head-covering shawl as she could. She peeked out of the sides but tried not to draw attention to herself. Everyone on the streets of Hagenheim appeared as different from the villagers she had grown up amongst as if they were from another world. Their clothing was made of the brightest and prettiest of colors—and that was only the men! The women wore fabrics of more variety than she had ever seen. Some looked soft and shimmery, like the smooth surface of a lake, and some of the veils were light and airy as a cloud and hardly covered their hair at all. One woman wore peacock feathers in her headdress, so elaborate it must have cost a year’s wages.
Most of the women her age only partially covered their hair, or they left it entirely bare. She drew in her breath to see one, and then another and another, grownup maidens wearing their hair loose and uncovered or braided to keep it out of their eyes. She saw shoes that were wondrously strange, that curled up at the toe.
Suddenly, she realized she had lost Mother. She searched through the crowded street for her mother’s familiar back and finally spotted her. She ran, losing sight of her again as more people passed between them, but finally caught up. She touched her mother’s sleeve and held on to it as she allowed herself to take in the fine buildings surrounding her.
Such tall buildings, with windows on each of the three or four levels, and the upper floors jutting out over the lower ones, over the very street. What would it be like to live in such a sturdy looking house, with so many windows and so many floors? They also had chimneys. The hovel she shared with Mother only had a pit in the middle of the floor for the fire and a hole at the top of the roof for the smoke to go through. Having a place in the wall for the fire and a chimney going up through the roof worked much better, she had been told, for helping the smoke go out instead of circulating through the house and making everything black and smelly.
Everywhere she looked was a new, interesting sight. Some of the buildings had carvings in the wood timbers, of faces or animals, or even words and numbers. Other buildings were made of half timbers, but instead of plaster or wattle and daub, they were surrounded by red bricks and mortar in interesting, angled designs. They towered even higher than the other buildings.
A lady riding sidesaddle on a white horse passed by. She kept her eyes focused ahead. On the back of her head was a tiny gold caul with all her hair stuffed inside—she must have had very thin hair—but with its mesh design, did nothing to actually cover her hair.
Rapunzel suddenly bumped into someone. “Oh, excuse me. I was not looking—”
The young woman backed away from her, lifted her nose in the air, and twisted her perfect, plump lips into a look of repulsion as she stared at Rapunzel.
On the lady’s head was a gold circlet trimmed with a white veil that was so thin and delicate, she could see the girl’s lustrous blond curls underneath it, not to mention that several long wavy curls hung outside the veil and across her shoulders. Her bright-red dress was trimmed in fur at the neckline, sleeves, and hem. She was beautiful and looked to be about the same age as Rapunzel.
“You oafish girl,” she said, looking down. “I hope you did not soil my slippers.” She shook her hand at Rapunzel, as if to shoo her away.
Another woman, dressed much less showy, pulled on her arm. “Come, Rainhilda. The horses are ready.”
The woman, Rainhilda, deigned to give one more backward glance. “Ignorant peasant girl. Must be from the village.” She didn’t even lower her voice. “Look at her dress! And her hair—or lack thereof.” She snickered behind her hand and the woman beside her turned to stare, as did several others nearby.
Rapunzel rushed away, her face burning and her stomach churning. Of course, anyone could see by Rapunzel’s clothing and her wide-eyed stares that she was poor and had never been outside her rustic village.
“That is Rainhilda,” Mother pointed out, drawing Rapunzel to her side.
“Did you hear what she said?”
“No, I was talking to those women over there. Did she say something to you?”
“No.” Rapunzel kept her head down, still feeling the sting. “Is she one of Duke Wilhelm’s daughters?”
“No, but she is as proud and haughty as if she were. Her father is only a knight, but he is very rich and has no sons. Rainhilda has an enormous dowry.”
“She isn’t married, then?”
“No. She wanted to marry Duke Wilhelm’s oldest son, Valten, but he ended up marrying the orphaned daughter of one of the duke’s former knights. Everyone was surprised, but she is beautiful beyond compare and is pregnant with his first child.” Her mother’s lip curled, as if she did not like him. Though she couldn’t possibly know him.
Rapunzel listened in rapt attention, glad the duke’s son had not married the haughty Rainhilda. Perhaps the woman should marry Sir Gerek. But even Sir Gerek didn’t deserve someone as unkind as Rainhilda. Rapunzel’s cheeks were still stinging from the insults.
Mother could always find out the gossip of a new village within the first few days after arriving.
Mother walked a bit faster. “We are near the Marktplatz, so be looking out for pregnant women.”
Fortunately, Mother didn’t force Rapunzel to assist with the births she attended, as Mother’s grandmother had forced her to do when she was a child. Sometimes Rapunzel did come along, if Mother thought it was to be a long labor, and she would bathe the laboring mother’s face or run and fetch things. But being at the birth of a baby made her weak in the knees and light-headed. The smells and the moans made her want to run far away. Sometimes she would take the older children and play with them outside, to distract them—and herself—from the suffering. But mostly Mother allowed Rapunzel to stay home when she went to conduct her midwife duties.
Soon Mother, with her keen eyesight, saw not one but two women great with child, and she approached them and began speaking with them about their babies. Was this their first child? How had the births of the previous children gone? Were they looking for a midwife? Mother would allow them to pay with whatever they had if they would allow her to help birth their babies and tell their friends about her.
The conversation was a long one, as women seemed to love telling the details of their previous labors. So Rapunzel continued to look around at all the different styles of clothing.
There were almost as many styles of headdress as there were women, and the men’s clothing was just as varied. No one wore the plain browns and grays that everyone wore in the villages. How plain Rapunzel must have looked to Sir Gerek, in her brown and green and gray kirtles, he who was accustomed to seeing beautiful clothing on the young maidens of Hagenheim.
How would Rapunzel manage to get these kinds of beautiful, colorful clothes? She was working at the monastery, but they were not paying her. What could she do to earn money? Perhaps she could find some other kind of job in Hagenheim.
Who might want to hire her? There were shops all around. Some sold candles, some sold cloth and other goods, some sold meat,
and who knew what else. She doubted she could get hired in a shop wearing the rustic woolen kirtles she owned. Perhaps she could get a job cleaning.
When Mother was finished talking with the two pregnant women, they moved on to the Marktplatz. Today was a market day, so the open space, which was paved with cobblestones, was crowded with sellers and buyers and goods of all kinds. But what caught Rapunzel’s eye was the magnificent castle just beyond.
Five towers, four of them round and the middle one square, loomed over the three-, four-, and five-story buildings surrounding the Marktplatz. The gray stone of Hagenheim Castle, which her mother had told her of, seemed to gleam in the morning sunlight, with a spot of color in the window of what must have been the stained glass in the castle chapel. What wonders lay inside those magnificent stone walls?
Perhaps she could get a job cleaning the castle. She could be a maidservant! Surely they would not mind her rustic clothing and would allow her to clean or fetch or start fires in the many rooms.
“What is the matter with you?” Mother said. “I walked away and lost you. You look moonstruck.” Mother looked over her shoulder at what Rapunzel had been gazing at. “Enchanted by your first glimpse of a castle? Humph. It’s only stone and mortar. Don’t be so impressed. Those who live in castles are no better than anyone else, no matter what they think.”
Rapunzel tore her eyes away from the castle and stayed close to Mother as she wove in and out among all the people. Of all the goods that the vendors were selling, the things she most longed for were the bolts of colored fabric. What would it be like to dress every day in red or pink or blue or purple? How would it feel to be unafraid to wear her hair free and flowing over her shoulders?
Mother found some more women to talk to about childbearing, and Rapunzel stood nearby, absentmindedly rubbing the scar on her palm with her thumb.
Standing at the east end of the Marktplatz, few people traveled in and out of the castle gate. As she watched a guard speaking to someone, she felt a prickling at the back of her neck, as if someone was watching her. She glanced to her right and immediately saw the man who had attacked her and her mother, the one with the strange smile. He stood staring at her.
A rush of air stuck in her throat.
Rapunzel turned and grabbed Mother’s arm. “Mother, it’s him! That man!”
Mother seemed reluctant to be interrupted, but turned and frowned at Rapunzel. “What? What is it?”
“It’s the man who nearly killed Sir Gerek and tried to rob us! The smiling one. He was over by the fountain in the middle of the Marktplatz.” She turned her head one way, then another, but didn’t see him. Would he try to follow them home? Would he come and kill them tonight in their beds? A shudder went across her shoulders.
But Mother had already turned back to resume her conversation with the women. Rapunzel searched the crowd for him, but he seemed to have vanished.
What could she do? Who could she tell? Sir Gerek would certainly be interested. Perhaps he could send word to someone who could help them find the man and imprison him in Duke Wilhelm’s dungeon.
When Mother finally finished her conversation, she said, “Do you see him now?”
Rapunzel shook her head. How could her mother be so calm? She was so much braver than Rapunzel. They continued walking among the vendors in the Marktplatz, her mother talking with women she saw along the way. Rapunzel became enamored again with looking at all the pretty things and forgot about her sighting of the brigand until they were leaving.
Rapunzel kept looking over her shoulder for the man. They passed through the town gate and headed into the trees toward their own little house in the woods.
“Mother, do you think he is following us?”
“If he does, we will surprise him with another knife, and this time you might find his heart, hmm?”
Rapunzel stared at her mother. She appeared perfectly calm. “I-I don’t want to stab him in the heart, Mother. I’d prefer he be caught and we not have to face him again.”
“Of course, I would prefer the same, but if he does come looking for us, I know you have the skill to kill him this time, instead of just wounding him. Yes?”
“I suppose so.” She didn’t enjoy the thought, but yes, if the man came to their home, if he tried to hurt her or her mother, she supposed she could kill him. But for pity’s sake, O Father God in heaven, don’t let it come to that.
Chapter Eleven
It was late afternoon, and Gerek figured Rapunzel probably wasn’t coming for her reading lesson. Not that he minded, but her presence did keep him from feeling as if the day was taking forever to end, and from wondering if he would be able to last five more weeks without going mad.
He had the time and the resources to study—Brother Andrew had brought him several books to read, some in French and Latin. But he wanted to be doing something. He was unused to lying in bed day after day. Brother Andrew had also brought him some things to copy, but they were dull letters and documents, and the work was tedious.
A knock sounded on the door. “Come in,” he called, relieved to have someone to talk to.
The door opened and Rapunzel stood, breathing hard. She came inside but left the door open.
He scowled to mask how pleased he was to see her. “Were you running?”
She nodded, then swallowed, catching her breath. Some strands of hair had worked loose from the close-fitting head covering and lay haphazardly over her shoulders. Her golden-blond hair contrasted with her brown brows and lashes, bringing out the blue of her eyes. His heartbeat grew fast.
He must be addled from lying around too much. He shouldn’t be noticing her hair color or how beautiful her eyes were.
“I saw the man, the one who attacked my mother and me.”
He sat up straighter. “Where?”
“He was in the Marktplatz in Hagenheim. He was standing by the fountain, and he saw me too.”
He pushed himself up to stand, then hit his fist against the bed. If only he did not have this broken leg! He would go after the man at this very moment. He would scour Hagenheim until he found him.
“I sent a message to my fellow knights in Hagenheim to be watching for him, but I shall send them another note to say he is in Hagenheim.” Little good that would do since those men did not know what he looked like. Gerek growled.
“What should I do if I see him again?”
“Stay away from him, but go and find one of the guards. Here, I will write a note for you to give them. When they see my signature, they will know you are telling the truth.” He reached for a piece of paper from the stack he was using to copy documents, carefully tore off a smaller piece, and wrote the missive.
“Do you think they would not believe me without your authorization?”
Another growl made its way into his throat, but he pushed it down.
“They would probably believe you, but this will give you extra credibility. With this, they will take him straight to the dungeon without question.”
She nodded and placed the piece of paper in her skirt pocket. “I must go now.”
“You will not stay for a reading lesson?”
“No, I only came to tell you about seeing . . . him. I will try to come back tomorrow.”
He nodded, trying to look disinterested. She turned to leave.
“Wait.” He reached into his leather money pouch, which he still kept attached to his belt. “Take this money. Go to the market in Hagenheim and buy yourself a new knife.”
“I do not want your money.” Rapunzel shook her head, her brows lowered in a troubled expression.
“It is to replace the knife you threw at the man when he was about to attack me. I do not want you to be without a knife. You need it to defend yourself.”
Her gaze flicked from the money in his hand to his face. She shook her head again. “I have already replaced my knife.” She lifted the flap on the leather purse attached to her belt. She slipped out a short dagger, then pushed it back in and closed the flap
over the handle. “I found it in the cart our attackers abandoned.”
“You lost your other one defending me. It is only right that I replace it.” He thrust the money at her again.
Still, she shook her head. “I thank you, but I do not need it. Good day, Sir Gerek.”
As soon as she was gone, he sighed. He placed his hands over his face and rubbed—rubbed his eyes, his cheeks, his growing beard. If only he could get on his horse, ride to Hagenheim Castle, and forget the last few days had ever happened.
Rapunzel carried her pottery water jar to the stream that was a short distance through the trees behind their house. Her hair flowed down her back, the air tugging it and tossing the shorter strands into her face. Her stomach clenched at the thought of someone seeing her—at what her mother would say if she saw her wandering around outside like this, reveling in the freedom of having her hair flowing and uncovered. How many times had her mother told her it was shameful to leave her hair exposed? How she hissed at Rapunzel when her head covering shifted and exposed an inch of her hair.
She walked down the bank to the bend in the stream where a small pool of water had collected, left behind by the swifter current. Rapunzel set her bucket down and stretched out on her stomach, lying with her head hanging over the edge, careful to hold her hair back so it didn’t get wet. She gazed down at her reflection.
In the still water, her hair formed a halo around her head and face. Was this how she looked when her hair hung loose? She turned her head one way, then the other. She smiled at her own foolishness, looking at herself so long. Mother would scold her and say she was vain.
She looked different without her hair severely drawn back from her face and covered. She looked . . . pretty.
If she were to walk around Hagenheim like this, would young men take a second look at her? Would they approach her and flatter her? Would people think she was pretty? Worthy? Important?
Rapunzel drew in a breath. Was that why Mother never wanted anyone to see her hair? Not because it was shameful or immodest, but because Mother was afraid men would notice her and desire her?
The Medieval Fairy Tale Collection Page 60
