The Piper's Pursuit

by Melanie Dickerson

  “What happened? I recall you telling me that you did not wish to become a monk, which you would have to do to join with the German Order of Teutonic Knights.”

  “Yes, that’s true. Well, I shall tell you something else because I already prophesied you would learn more about me and I about you, and I am hoping since I was right about the first thing, I shall also be right about the second one.”

  His usual jocular tone and expression almost returned, but was clouded over again when he continued speaking. “I foolishly disregarded my father’s words and went to fight with the Teutonic Knights against my father’s allies. I was angry and harsh with my brother Wolfgang. But I really decided not to join the order when I saw how their leader persecuted women and innocent people because of his own ambition. And then, when I was asked to fight against my brother and risk killing him, I realized I’d rather die than kill Wolfgang.”

  She remembered how he’d stepped in front of the beast for her, taking the brunt of the attack to protect her. Perhaps it was true. If he could care about her, a stranger, enough to sacrifice himself for her, he would surely love his brother that much. But then again, she also knew there were people in the world, people like Hennek, who loved the praise of men, who would do something generous or sacrificial for others in order to look like a good person, but who would treat their family with contempt and cruelty.

  Was Steffan like Hennek? She didn’t have a knife in her hand, and they were alone together. In fact, at this moment they were quite close to each other. He could grab her and try to harm her if he wanted to.

  Steffan stood looking down at her. He was glancing all around every few seconds. Was he looking for danger, checking for the second beast they’d seen run away? Or perhaps he was making sure no one was around.

  She felt herself stiffen, mentally calculating how long it would take to grab her knife. But instead of looking menacing or suspicious, Steffan had a kind and gentle expression on his face. He wasn’t leaning toward her in that disgusting, aggressive way Hennek had. Instead, he was glancing down at his own hands.

  “Thankfully,” he went on, “I didn’t hurt my brother, at least not much.”

  “Is that where you got your scars? Did your brother do that?” She pointed to her own face, to the corresponding places where Steffan’s cheek and brow were scarred.

  “Only this one.” He pointed to the pale scar just above his left eyebrow. One side of his mouth crooked up in a half smile while his eyelids drooped, giving him almost a sleepy, brooding sort of look. “We were jousting. Injuries happen.”

  “And your other scar? The one on your cheek?”

  Why did she ask him that? She never asked men personal questions. Until now.

  “I got that one fighting in Poland with the Teutonic Knights. I was attacking one of Duke Konrad’s soldiers and he slammed his sword into my cheek. At the last moment I was able to deflect the blow so that it was mostly the flat side of his blade that struck me.”

  “That’s very fortunate.” She didn’t like to think what might have happened if the man had struck him with the sharp edge of his sword.

  “Now you know more about me. But I won’t ask any questions about you until I know you trust me.”

  “Why do you want me to trust you?”

  “I don’t think you trust anyone. Do you?”

  “Not many people.” She couldn’t help smiling at the way he accepted her distrust. “Perhaps I’m not the most trusting person.”

  “I should say you are not.”

  “I have my reasons. It’s safer.”

  Steffan twisted one side of his mouth into a frown. After a few moments, he said, “Are you sure about that? I think it’s safer if you do trust people, as long as they’re the right people.”

  “How do you know who is safe to trust and who is not?”

  “Therein lies the problem, I suppose.”

  Their gazes met and held. It was as if he truly understood her. She wasn’t sure she’d ever felt anyone understood her. For the first time in her life, she wanted someone to know her. And she wanted it to be this handsome young man. Her heart fluttered, and she looked away. Was she being ridiculous?

  “Some people are not trustworthy.” He stared intently back at her.

  He understood. Her heart thumped against her chest. What would it be like to sink into his chest and feel his arms around her?

  “Shall we go?” She turned away from him, taking a big step closer to the rocks that she suspected were on the map, abruptly ending their conversation.

  Steffan came along beside her. He said nothing as they both moved cautiously. This was the spot where the second beast had run away. There were no trees here, almost as if they’d been cleared right around the rocks. She headed toward the rocks and Steffan followed.

  Peering around the side of one of the largest rocks, she heard a sound like metal scraping against metal. She froze, listened, but when she didn’t hear anything, she continued toward the rocks.

  Just then, a hole appeared in the ground in front of her. She stopped short, drawing her foot back so as not to fall in.

  The open space was well worn on the edges, the dirt and moss and grass rubbed away. Someone, or something, had been going in and out of this hole.

  Katerina heard a man’s voice not too far away. He was either humming or softly singing. She strained her eyes and saw one of Hennek’s guards. He seemed to be relieving himself beside a tree. Steffan was at her shoulder, and he saw the guard too.

  Katerina focused on the opening in the ground. It was too narrow for them both to squeeze in at the same time, so Katerina braced herself, hands on the sides of the hole, bent forward, drew her knees up, and lowered herself down into the opening.

  Her feet touched rock. She slid her hands along the sides of the passageway. A glow came from below. She could just make out a series of wooden rungs below her, and she took one step, then another, down into the darkness.

  * * *

  Steffan watched as Katerina lowered herself into the ground. He should tell her to stop, but his voice might alert the guard.

  As soon as Katerina was in, he went in after her.

  The hole was almost completely dark, but he could just make out the rungs of a ladder below him. Katerina’s head bobbed below, and he followed her down.

  They finally reached the bottom. The floor was uneven, like the floor of a cave, and he caught up with Katerina and placed his hand lightly on her shoulder. This time she didn’t flinch or shrink away from him.

  They kept walking toward a light that was faint but distinct in the otherwise pitch-black cave. A sound drifted to his ears, a tapping or far-off banging. Katerina had her hand out in front of her, and Steffan kept one hand on the wall beside him.

  The cave wound around a bend, growing brighter as they went. Suddenly they could hear voices. A large room opened up in front of them, with torches set into the walls. He and Katerina both plastered themselves against the wall of the cave.

  Children, about six or seven of them, were facing the opposite wall. Steffan watched them, hardly believing what he was seeing. They were using picks and chisels, digging something out of the rock.

  A big, stout man stood guard. He was so close to where they were standing, Steffan could smell an odor coming from his body—like garlic and unwashed feet. If the man turned his head, he would see them.

  Katerina seemed transfixed, her eyes wide and her jaw clenched as she watched the children. Had she seen the guard? Don’t make a sound, he longed to whisper to her.

  But she was silent as she stared at the children. Was she relieved to have found them? Or anguished at what she was seeing?

  Was this all of them? This was only a small portion of the children he knew were missing. Were there more? A tunnel at the other end of the large cavern seemed to indicate there might be more to this mine, especially if it extended underneath the town, as Katerina suggested.

  He squeezed Katerina’s shoulder, finally getting
her attention, and motioned toward the dark corridor through which they had come. Katerina stepped back so they wouldn’t be seen by the guard.

  Most of the children were very small, maybe only seven or eight years old, but there were two children who were taller than the others. One of them turned and looked straight at Steffan and Katerina. His eyes widened, and Steffan put a finger to his lips, praying the boy would not betray their presence.

  Katerina glanced at Steffan, then moved back slowly and quietly. Steffan waited for her to go first, watching the guard, but he still seemed unaware of their presence. As they made their way back through the corridor, a cracking noise, as if Katerina had stepped on a stick, broke the silence in the narrow corridor.

  She began to walk faster. The tunnel brightened as a light came from behind them. The guard must have been coming after them with a torch.

  Steffan’s hand slipped off her shoulder as she all but ran, slowing only as they approached the steps leading up. She climbed quickly and Steffan stayed close behind her.

  “Who is there?” a masculine voice boomed behind them. Steffan didn’t bother to look behind him as he was nearly to the top. He heaved himself up and out of the opening, scrambled to his feet, and he and Katerina ran, plunging into the forest.

  They both ran down the hill, dodging trees, leaping over bushes and fallen limbs. Steffan stayed just behind Katerina in an effort to keep his body between her and any arrows that might be directed their way. He hadn’t seen the man who’d been guarding the opening, but he was no doubt nearby.

  They continued to run until they were at the bottom of the hill. Then Katerina veered to the right and headed toward a small shelter built of wattle and daub and open on the two sides facing away from the hill.

  They both were breathing hard. Katerina closed her eyes and pressed her hand against her chest, over her heart. “We found them.” She drew in a deeper breath. “Thank You, God, we found them.”

  “You found them. You are amazing, Katerina. Truly.”

  She smiled and shook her head. When she’d caught her breath, she said, “I want to go back there, shoot that guard, and take all the children out, this moment.”

  “I don’t think it would be that easy. There must surely be several more guards down there.”

  “You’re right. We mustn’t be arrogant and get the children killed. Do you think we could leave for Hagenheim tonight?”

  “We could leave as soon as we saddle our horses.”

  “Let us go.”

  Just then the sound of a horse’s hooves—two horses, at least—came thundering down the hill. Instinctively he grabbed Katerina’s arm and pulled her back as he stepped into the shadows of the shelter. She shrank back with him, her body pressed against his side, her hand against his chest.

  The horses thundered past, moving too fast for him to recognize the riders.

  Katerina moved away from him, pulling her hand away from his chest as if she hadn’t realized she’d been touching him. A bereft feeling, of missing her warmth, swept over him.

  They moved at the same time, hurrying away from the shelter and running toward the town wall.

  “Wait,” Katerina said, veering off the path. She went to the tree where she’d fetched the hidden bandages she’d used to wrap his arm. She reached into her sleeve and pulled out some rolled-up parchments, then stuffed them in the hole in the tree.

  “Those are the papers you found in Hennek’s study?”

  “Yes. I don’t think anyone will find them here.”

  “Good idea,” Steffan said. Now hopefully they’d be able to prove Hennek’s corruption so there’d be no doubt of his guilt.

  They headed for the hole in the town wall where they had come through earlier. When they reached it, Steffan could see it was too high for Katerina, but she quickly said, “You’ll have to grab my leg and give me a boost. And see that you don’t touch anything but my foot and lower leg.”

  “Upon my honor, my lady, you have my solemn word.” Steffan bent and grabbed her calf with one hand and her heel with the other. She wasn’t heavy, so it was easy to boost her up to the opening, then help her through by letting her use his hand and shoulder to push against.

  A fallen tree was nearby. He dragged it over, stood on it, and was able to grasp the bottom of the opening and pull himself up.

  He’d expected her to have run on toward Hennek’s stable when he stuck his head through, but she was waiting.

  “Grab this handhold across the way.” She pointed to the building across the narrow alley. Some stones jutted out, and he reached out and grabbed them, pulling himself the rest of the way through, then dropping to the ground beside her.

  Together they hurried down the alley.

  Once they reached the street, they slowed to a normal pace. He stayed just behind Katerina, occasionally glancing over his shoulder to check for Hennek’s henchmen.

  Hennek’s stable, where Steffan’s horse was being boarded, was just behind the mayor’s four-story house. They skirted past the house, not seeing anyone outside, nor any faces through the windows, and entered the stable.

  Steffan grabbed his saddle while Katerina also started saddling a horse.

  “I’ll pack some provisions,” Katerina whispered. “Do you think you can risk retrieving your things?”

  “Not worth it. It’s only two days to Hagenheim, and my father can provide us whatever we need when we get there.”

  “What have we here?” Hennek’s voice was behind them, near the entrance of the stable.

  Steffan froze. Four men were with Hennek, two on each side of him, standing menacingly tall and straight. Steffan probably couldn’t fight off so many, and he had Katerina to protect. He thought quickly.

  “Since the wolf we killed was not the Beast of Hamlin, we are going to see if we can track down the real beast.”

  “Together? I did not know the two of you were such good friends.”

  “We are not, but you know what a skilled hunter your stepdaughter is.” Steffan shrugged and tried to smile. “I talked her into coming with me.”

  Hennek’s face, even in the dim light of the stable, was hard and unflinching.

  “I would rather you did not go looking for this beast.” Hennek’s voice was cold, so different from how he had spoken to him before. “I might not be able to explain to your father about your getting injured while here in my town.”

  “Oh, Father will think nothing of it. I’ve been injured many times in battle, and just tilting with wooden swords with my brothers.”

  “Nevertheless, I wish you to come back into the house with me. It is nearly time for supper.”

  “We shall not be gone long. Have to take advantage of the waning daylight.”

  Hennek’s face grew darker, his expression completely without mirth or the bluster he usually displayed.

  “There is a matter I wish you to help me with. It is more pressing than tracking down a wolf. Put the saddles away.” It was a command, not a request.

  Steffan began removing his horse’s accoutrements and Katerina followed suit. Then they silently accompanied Hennek and his men toward the house.

  Was Hennek the one who was behind the enslaved children working in the mines? Judging from the drastic change in his manner, he was, and he must also know they were seen in the mine. Would they be able to escape if they simply ran? Surrounded as they were, their chances were very small.

  Inside the house, Hennek led them all into his study. The seven of them filled up the room, with Katerina pressing herself against the wall, shrinking away from one of Hennek’s burly men. Her face was pale and her hand, which hung by her side, trembled.

  “Get away from that maiden.” Steffan said the words without thinking, stepping toward the guard.

  “Dieter, Lord Steffan thinks you’re crowding my stepdaughter,” Hennek said.

  The big guard took a tiny step away from Katerina. She had already straightened her spine, her head lifted high, and her cheeks were turni
ng from pale to red, as if she were either embarrassed or angry—or both.

  “Now then,” Hennek said, “if one of you has the sheets of parchment that I kept in this box here”—he kicked a box on the floor—“I would greatly appreciate you giving them back to me.”

  The hair stood up on the back of Steffan’s neck. God, help me keep Katerina safe.

  Eleven

  Katerina flinched when the big burly guard’s arm brushed against her, forcing her against the wall. She could feel the blood drain from her face. Steffan ordered the guard away from her. Her face burned, and she was furious at herself for allowing this guard to intimidate her. But a flash of memory had come over her, of the first time one of Hennek’s men had tried to coerce her and frighten her. Did her cheeks burn because these men had seen her shrink away from Dieter? Or at the way Steffan came to her defense? Her heart thumped erratically in her chest and she couldn’t look at him.

  But what Hennek said next made her insides go cold again. Her mind went to the rolled-up parchments she had hidden in the tree.

  “You have it, don’t you, Katerina?” He stepped toward her.

  “Have what?” She forced her mind not to even think about where the map was. “I want nothing that belongs to you.” Suddenly her loathing for this man nearly choked her. Anyone who pretended to be good, who made a show of giving to orphanages but stole children away and enslaved them—and she had no doubt now that that was what he had been doing—was nothing but evil. If only she could end that evil.

  “You see what I have to put up with?” Hennek looked sad as he shifted his gaze to Steffan. “I love her mother, but her daughter hates me without cause. I am good to her, I care for her, clothe her, and feed her, and yet she insists on defying me.” He let his shoulders droop as he held out a hand, palm up.

  Why was Hennek still trying to fool Steffan? Could it be that he didn’t know she and Steffan had been in the mine? Perhaps he only knew she had stolen his map. Perhaps he was still holding out hope that they didn’t know the atrocities he had been perpetrating.