The Huntress of Thornbeck Forest

by Melanie Dickerson

  The man turned. It was Rutger. She went toward him, hoping to catch his eye. But Mathis approached him and said something close to his ear, and then they both moved toward the gallery where she and Jorgen had gone before. They disappeared through the doorway.

  Odette hurried toward the gallery and slipped inside. Softly she called, “Rutger.” But as her eyes became accustomed to the lower light, she saw him at the other end of the gallery, slipping out onto the balcony.

  How frustrating. He probably didn’t even know where her mask was, but she didn’t know who else to ask or what else to do, so she kept going.

  Someone was speaking out on the balcony. The closer she got, the more convinced she was that it was Jorgen. Was he asking Rutger for permission to marry her? Her heart beat out of rhythm, stealing her breath. What would she do if Rutger refused him? Her thoughts were in a tangle, like a patch of thorny vines.

  Odette stepped out onto the balcony, but Jorgen was not with Rutger. He was standing with a woman, standing extremely close to her, and she was wearing Odette’s mask!

  Jorgen leaned down to kiss her. Odette felt ill, her stomach twisting. Then Jorgen said, “I love you. I want to marry you. Please marry me.”

  Who was he saying these things to? Who was this woman? As soon as Jorgen said the words, the woman threw her arms around him and kissed him on the lips. And Jorgen was kissing her back most enthusiastically.

  A strangled noise left her lips as she forced herself not to scream. Then she saw Rutger and Mathis standing a few feet away. Rutger must have heard her because he turned and looked at her.

  Jorgen must have heard her as well. He broke away from the woman and his eyes met Odette’s.

  His eyes widened. “Odette?” he gasped and turned back to the girl he had been kissing. “Who are you?”

  Was he pretending? Did he truly not know that the woman he had been kissing was not Odette? Had the woman tricked him by wearing her mask? And where had she found a dress so similar to her own? None of it made sense.

  Suddenly the woman started running toward Odette, laughing in a high-pitched voice. She ran past Odette, through the doorway, and to the gallery. As she passed by, something touched Odette on the shoulder, then clattered to the floor. Her mask. She bent and picked it up.

  “Odette.” Jorgen took a few unsteady steps toward her. “I . . . I thought she was you.”

  But all Odette could see as she looked at him was him kissing that other woman. “Do you expect me to believe that you could not tell she was not me?” Perhaps she was being unfair to him, but . . . Her stomach twisted again.

  “Come, my dear.” Rutger stood before her and took her by the arm. “This man and his love affairs are not our concern. We will leave him to his folly.”

  She followed Rutger to the gallery, letting him place her hand on his arm.

  “Wait, Odette, please.”

  The anguish in Jorgen’s voice made her turn and look at him.

  “The woman tricked me. I did not know. I thought she was you.”

  The lost look in his eyes made her stomach sink even lower. Her eyes burned with tears, and a searing pain stabbed her like a knife, but Rutger urged her on, through the gallery.

  “Odette.” Jorgen was following them.

  “Who was she?” Odette turned and faced him, in spite of Rutger urging her to keep going forward. “Why would she do such a thing?”

  “It is a complete mystery to me. Please believe me. I could never love anyone but you.” His voice was strained.

  Odette’s heart stopped. He loved her? But how could he not know that other woman was not her? It hurt that he could mistake someone else for her and actually kiss that other person.

  “I hope you do not believe this, Odette.” Rutger again pulled gently on her arm. “Let us go.”

  “Odette . . .” He held his hand toward her, palm up, in a gesture of supplication. “Please.”

  She still could not rid herself of the image of him kissing the other woman. It rose up every time she blinked. “I do not wish to speak of it anymore.”

  “We shall go at once,” Rutger said as they continued down the long gallery toward the ballroom. “I shall send for the carriage.”

  Odette said nothing, feeling numb all over except for the ache in her heart and the burning sensation in her nose as she struggled to hold back tears.

  She heard no more from Jorgen as she passed through the rest of the gallery, through the ballroom, and into the front hall to wait for Rutger’s carriage.

  “God, why?” she whispered. Why must she be in love with a man she could not marry? And now she had this painful memory of him kissing another woman and declaring his love for her. A flood of pain washed over her.

  The despair in Jorgen’s heart turned to anger. Someone had deliberately tricked him. But why? He rushed out the door and into the ballroom.

  He glanced around. Where was that woman, the one who had so brazenly pretended to be Odette? He must find her. He must force her to admit the truth of who she was, of what she had done. He must force her to confess in front of Odette before she left.

  He started through the crowds of people, searching everywhere. She had been wearing a dress like Odette’s, but he couldn’t see her anywhere. He went from one end of the ballroom to the other. He looked everywhere he could, but she obviously didn’t wish to be found.

  It seemed there would be no outlet for his anger. But didn’t Odette understand that he had been tricked? He never would have knowingly kissed another woman. But the truth was, he had kissed another woman, and in front of Odette.

  The thought of it made him sick. The memory would forever be in Odette’s mind. And the pain in her eyes would forever be ingrained in his.

  He stared out at the joyful dancers and the people talking to each other as if Jorgen’s hopes had not just been crushed. And what of Odette? What must she think of him? First he’d kissed her, and then he’d kissed someone else, like some unbridled cur.

  Somehow he had to show her that he did not go around kissing women indiscriminately. He just had no idea how.

  The carriage was dark as pitch, even with the lamp attached just outside. Odette could cry, as long as she was quiet, and Rutger wouldn’t know. She propped her elbow against the side of the carriage, her hand resting against her cheek, so she could wipe the tears away without drawing attention.

  “Odette, I am sorry you had to see Jorgen kissing that other woman, but perhaps it is for the best.”

  Odette took a deep breath to dispel the tears enough so he would not hear them in her voice. When she trusted herself to speak, she said, “I believe Jorgen was telling the truth when he said the woman deliberately tricked him. She must have stolen my mask when I was lying down. Why else would she steal my mask? And her dress was similar to mine. It is understandable that Jorgen would think she was me.” But it still made tears return to her eyes that he had.

  Rutger did not say anything for several moments. “I have always thought you wise beyond your years, and I never wanted you to throw yourself away on someone who did not deserve you. But Jorgen Hartman . . . He is only the forester. You could marry any unmarried man in Thornbeck. Think of Mathis Papendorp. He is a good sort of man. Do you not think so? He would never treat you viciously or deny you anything your heart desired.”

  She fought back the tears again to say, “Do you want me to marry Mathis?”

  He sighed. “I do not want to tell you who to marry, Odette. But I do believe you would have a good life with Mathis.”

  No other guardian—no other father, for that matter—would ever give so much freedom of choice to their ward or daughter. Rutger had been so good to her, and now that she was one and twenty, of course he wanted her to be married and settled.

  Why didn’t she marry Mathis? Rutger was right that Mathis would give her whatever her heart desired, to the best of his ability. Besides, people didn’t normally fall in love until after they were married anyway. But Jorgen . . . How cou
ld she forget his kiss? How could she ignore the longing, deep in her heart, for him to love her and to love him in return?

  But wasn’t that foolish? Once he found out she was the poacher . . . Was she not being childish in wanting something she could never have? Wouldn’t it be kinder to marry Mathis and let Jorgen find someone else?

  Another tear flowed down her cheek, and she didn’t bother wiping it away.

  Jorgen and the gamekeeper rode just behind the margrave on the hunt the next day, in order to advise him of the best hunting spots. All of his highborn guests who were staying a few days at the castle were along for the hunt. Unfortunately, they were having difficulty finding any deer at all. The margrave was scowling.

  Jorgen sat on the brown gelding, searching the undergrowth for signs of a deer and praying that a deer would jump out of the bushes. If not, he might lose everything.

  He had already lost Odette.

  A heaviness filled his chest, the same heaviness that had settled there when Odette saw him kissing another girl. If only he could go back. If only he had realized the woman was not Odette. If only he had not kissed her and declared his love for that imposter.

  There had to be some sinister reason that woman had stolen Odette’s mask. What it was, he could not fathom, but he had a strange suspicion that Rutger had something to do with it. Could he so object to Odette falling in love with and marrying Jorgen that he would send a woman to trick him? Rutger was the person who had led Odette into that small room near the food and drink. That must have been where Odette had taken off her mask and it had been stolen. That was the last time he had seen her with it.

  Rutger must be behind it.

  Jorgen was not sorry he had kissed Odette. But he supposed it was that kiss that had led him to kiss the other girl. His mind had been clouded by his desire to make Odette love him the way he loved her . . . by desire for Odette. It was at least partially—mostly—his own fault. How could she ever love him now?

  I will not give up, God. So do not let her fall in love with anyone else. And raise me up, somehow, in her eyes.

  One of the men in the party lifted a bow and aimed it at the ground, then shot. “Got it!”

  “What was it?” someone asked.

  “A hare. If we cannot find deer, we can at least kill something.”

  Jorgen’s neck burned. He felt responsible for everyone’s dissatisfaction. I pray, O Lord, let me catch that poacher. Please.

  22

  THE WIDE-EYED FACES of the children outside the town wall as they listened to her teach her lesson lifted Odette’s heart a bit from where it had sunk. She kept glancing up, looking for Jorgen, as the lesson progressed. But when the lesson was over and he still had not come, her heart sank to the pit of her stomach again.

  She could still close her eyes and feel his lips on hers. But remembering him kissing that other girl dispelled the pleasant sensations and sent a jolt of pain through her chest.

  What had she been thinking to allow him to kiss her? But what she really longed to know was, would he ever kiss her again?

  Odette gave out the usual hugs to those children who always seemed to crave her attention and affection. But her thoughts were on Jorgen. Would he avoid her now?

  “You sent for me, Lord Thornbeck?” Jorgen joined the margrave in the banqueting hall of Thornbeck Castle.

  “Sit down, Jorgen.” The margrave had a tense look on his face, which made the boulder in Jorgen’s chest even heavier. “I am sure you remember how disastrous our hunt was yesterday. Even the dogs were unable to scent a deer.” He leaned forward. “I need you to find out who is poaching the king’s deer. If you cannot do this one task, I will be forced to find someone who can.”

  The margrave sank back in his chair. “I have sent for someone who is excellent at tracking. He should arrive next week. In the meantime . . .” He fixed him with a hard stare. “This poacher would shoot you if he thought he could get away with it, I have no doubt. It is time to put him and his black market out of business. I want you to find this poacher, and I want you to have no qualms about shooting him.”

  “Yes, my lord.”

  The next morning Odette was awakened by Heinke coming into her room. “Mistress Odette. There is a little boy named Hanns here to see you.”

  “Hanns?” Odette raised herself to sitting, forcing her eyes open.

  “Yes. He is crying and begging to see you.”

  Odette grabbed a roomy underdress, pulled it over her head, and scrambled out of bed. She hurried down to find little Hanns standing at the back door and wiping his face on his ragged sleeve.

  “Hanns, what is wrong?”

  “Mama is sick. She says she thinks she’s dying.” Another tear slipped down his dirty face. “She has not gotten out of bed in two days, not even to go to the privy.” His hands were trembling, and his cheeks were pale and sunken.

  “When was the last time you ate? Come to the kitchen and I will get you something.” She led him into the stone room and picked him up and sat him on a stool at Cook’s counter.

  Cook brought him some bread and butter, cheese, and cold pork. He started stuffing the food in his mouth faster than he could chew it.

  “Not too fast or you’ll choke.” Odette brought him a cup of water, but he ignored it as he continued to pick up the food and push more into his already overstuffed cheeks.

  Tears pricked her eyes. “When was the last time you ate some of my deer meat, Hanns?”

  He chewed and chewed and finally swallowed. “The last time you brought it to our house.”

  “But that was weeks ago!”

  He looked at her with wide eyes, stuffing his mouth again.

  “Have the boys been bringing anyone else any meat?”

  Hanns shook his head. “We thought you ceased hunting.”

  Her heart stopped.

  “I came to ask,” Hanns said, after swallowing noisily, “if you could give me some money to get the doctor to come and save my mother.” Tears welled up in his eyes again.

  “Of course I will.” Odette asked Cook to pack up some food for Hanns to take with him while she ran upstairs to fetch some money. As she hurried, she noticed the fine tapestry that hung at the top of the stairs was no longer there. When had it been taken down?

  Heinke was passing through the corridor, and Odette stopped her. “Heinke, what happened to the tapestry that was here?”

  Her eyes grew round as fear flickered across her face. She shrugged. “I do not know.”

  “And what about the Oriental vase that was always downstairs?”

  Heinke shook her head. “Perhaps Master Rutger knows.” She dropped a tiny curtsy and hastened down the corridor.

  A feeling of dread ripped through Odette as she hurried the rest of the way to her room. She fetched the small purse of coins that she kept hidden in a secret compartment in her trunk. Thank goodness it was still there. She poured out enough money for a doctor and a little extra, put her purse back in its hiding place, and ran back down the stairs. Next she called their servant Sigfried and asked him to go with Hanns to fetch the doctor.

  Odette hugged Hanns tightly, then sent him on his way with a promise to check on him and bring some venison as soon as she was able.

  As she watched him hurry off, she whispered, “Oh, God, what is happening here?” Was someone stealing valuable items from their home? The venison she was shooting? She had to find out what was going on.

  As Jorgen stood beside the fountain in the town square, his friend, Dieter, walked toward him with a big smile on his face.

  “Jorgen! So good to see you.” Dieter clapped him on the shoulder.

  They talked and asked about the health of their families. “I have a request to make of you, Dieter. You were always a shrewd ally when we were boys, and I have need of a pair of shrewd eyes.”

  Dieter and Jorgen sat on the side of the fountain while people milled all around them, buying and selling in the Marktplatz.

  “Someone has been sell
ing poached meat at the back of The Red House. And there is a poacher who has been taking so many of the deer from Thornbeck Forest that they are becoming scarce. I must find this poacher and capture him.”

  “What can I do, Jorgen?”

  “I want you to help me catch who is selling the poached meat. If you can discover who is behind this black market, I believe he will lead us to the poacher.”

  Jorgen discussed with him the days the black market was operating. “I also need you to track Rutger Menkels and find out what he does every day. Follow him when he leaves his house early every morning, and tell me where he goes and who he sees.”

  Dieter readily accepted the quest, and they agreed to meet again the next day at the same time and place.

  Jorgen felt a little stab of guilt when he asked Dieter to follow Odette’s uncle, but if Rutger had schemed to have someone steal Odette’s mask and trick Jorgen into making a fool of himself with the imposter, then he and Odette both needed to know. And if he was not responsible, Jorgen hoped Odette would never find out that he had asked Dieter to follow him.

  23

  ODETTE WAS RUNNING. Behind her she could hear a large stag crashing toward her, getting closer and closer. Over her shoulder she could see it was the stag she had injured weeks ago. Her arrow was sticking out of his haunch.

  She kept running. He let out a loud snort, so close she could feel his hot breath on the back of her neck. She tried to make her legs move faster, but they were weighed down by something thick and sticky around her ankles.

  Suddenly she tripped. She fell on her hands and chin, and her teeth snapped together. She covered her head with her arms, but the stag slammed his antlers into her back.

  Odette awoke with a gasp, pushing herself up with her hands. It was only a dream . . . only a dream.

  It had seemed so real. Her jaw ached as if her teeth really had slammed together. But it was not real. The stag she had injured—and which Jorgen had been forced to put out of his misery—he was not still alive. He was not goring her in the back. It was only a dream.