“Besides,” he said, “what man wouldn’t want these wonderful scars to show off his bravery?”
Kirstyn shook her head, then laughed.
One day she walked in on Frau Lena checking the injuries on his shoulder and chest. He would certainly have some scars there as well. And for some reason, her cheeks heated at seeing his bare chest.
He snatched up his shirt. Frau Lena asked her about her family while he pulled the garment over his head. That was when she began to realize it was uncommon for a girl her age to be such close friends with a boy his age. But Aladdin had never been anything less than chivalrous and kind to her—fierce in his protection of her, but gentle with her feelings—Michael’s opposite in every way.
The cart hit a particularly deep hole, shaking her from her reverie.
Later in the day, the cart wheels rattled over what was obviously a cobblestone street. People conversed all around, some near and some farther away. There was also the sound of horses’ hooves, a blacksmith’s clanging hammer, and even children playing, shouting, and laughing. They were in a town, or possibly a village on market day.
The cart finally stopped, and Kirstyn was certain she smelled a river, along with the noises that accompanied one. The things that had been piled onto her legs and torso were lifted off of her. Finally she was dragged by her feet until she could stand, with the tarp still wrapped around her, and was hoisted over Michael’s shoulder. She caught a glimpse of the tops of buildings and blue sky before she was carried into a building.
Inside, Michael yanked the tarp off of her and shoved her toward some steps leading down. “Tie her up,” Michael barked to Anna.
Anna followed Kirstyn down the steps to the cellar of the building. Anna held a candle, but it was difficult to see even the steps they were treading on. Once Michael was behind them, Kirstyn whispered, “Where are we?”
“It’s a warehouse on the river. Michael says we can stay here until . . . until he arranges to have you sold.”
“Sold? What do you mean?”
“He plans to sell you to the highest bidder.”
“But . . . sold as what? A slave?”
“I suppose so.” Anna avoided looking at Kirstyn.
Instead of trying to reason with Anna, bribe her, or appeal to her sense of compassion, none of which had worked before, Kirstyn said, “I wouldn’t have thought even Michael was capable of such evil.”
Her knees shook as she grasped just how heinous it was, and how much danger she would be in if someone paid money for her. They could do anything they wished with her.
Michael was cruel, but he did not treat her as badly as he might have in the four or five months since he took her. He fed her enough to make sure she didn’t die, and he had not molested her, besides hitting her a couple of times. Poor Anna was the one he yelled at and beat every time he drank too much wine or strong spirits. And yet she refused to leave him. It had been so maddening to Kirstyn in the beginning, but strangely, she had come to accept it and had all but stopped trying to convince Anna to leave. It was too disheartening to hear Anna defend him.
Anna said nothing and lit a few more candles in the dark cellar. But besides a few candle nubs and a few old tables and a broken chair, there was nothing in the cellar, and certainly no bed.
“Where will I sleep?” Kirstyn took hold of Anna’s arm. “Please don’t leave me down here.” Tears stung her eyes. It was humiliating to beg, but she couldn’t bear the thought of being left alone in this dark room with no windows and nothing to do when the sun was shining just outside the walls.
Anna took hold of the rope tied around Kirstyn’s wrists. “Michael said to tie you here.”
“I will cook and clean. I’ll be the servant for you and Michael if you will not tie me here.” Her hands started shaking.
“What’s going on down there?” Michael’s voice boomed from above.
“I want to work for you,” Kirstyn said, talking fast. “I will do anything, but I cannot bear to be locked down here in the dark. I will go mad and I . . . I will do myself harm. You have driven me mad by leaving me in the dark too many times.” It was not far from the truth.
A long silence followed as Anna waited for Michael to speak.
“Very well,” he said, his voice cool and even. “Come up here.”
Anna blew out the candle nubs on the tables and started up the stairs with Kirstyn. At the top, Michael took hold of Kirstyn’s arm in a painful grip, pinching her flesh with his cruel fingers.
“Why should I believe you won’t try to escape?”
“I never succeed, and I’m tired. I just want to see the sun.” Had she finally lost all hope and self-respect after months and months of this abuse? No. She might pretend to have given up, but inside she would remain as defiant as ever.
Michael’s expression was sullen. He seemed to be trying to cover the scar on his forehead with his brown hair, which had grown long and came across his brow in a swoop. As well he might. Her father was undoubtedly looking for him. Perhaps he had a description of him and was even now close on their trail.
Kirstyn said a quick prayer that Michael would say yes to her request.
“Very well. You can help Anna prepare supper. But I’ll be watching you.”
Kirstyn was so glad to be standing upright in the light of day. She set about helping Anna by washing the pot in which they would be cooking frumenty, then preparing the vegetables—peas and leeks and beans. They thickened it with a handful of dried oats and set it over the fire to boil. All the while Michael sat on a stool, watching her as he used his knife point to clean under his fingernails.
Look all you want, Michael. One day my father will hunt you down. You’ll never know a day of peace for the rest of your pathetic life, and you’ll know true fear just before he hangs you.
As usual, the thought gave her a moment of satisfaction.
She couldn’t help wondering what Aladdin was doing and if he knew she’d been taken captive and held for ransom. Did he pray for her? Worry about her? Was he seeking her, as she was sure her father was? Did he still care as much for her as he did that last day she’d seen him a year and a half ago, when she kissed his cheek?
She loved him even more now than she did then, as she’d had plenty of time to think about him these last months. And she didn’t just love him as a friend. Not anymore. When she lay for hours in the dark, sometimes she imagined what it would be like to kiss him and be his wife. Would Aladdin be shocked and repulsed if he knew she thought such things?
She gazed out the window, watching people go by on the street outside. God, please don’t let Michael get angry and send me down to the basement. She was so happy to be able to see the sun and people again.
Michael’s face was red as he slammed the door behind him. Kirstyn was tied to a support beam where she stood kneading bread. She stopped, and a tremor rippled through her at the look on his face.
He turned and punched his fist into the wall, then left the room. Anna exchanged a glance with Kirstyn, then went back to shelling peas for the frumenty.
A few minutes later someone knocked on the door. Michael asked, “Who is there?”
A muffled voice answered, and Michael opened the door.
A tall, gaunt man with darting eyes and oily hair entered the room. “Where is she?”
Michael jerked his head in Kirstyn’s direction.
The man looked her up and down and nodded, his thin lips curving into a smile that sent a shiver down Kirstyn’s spine. It had been a long time since anyone besides Michael and Anna had looked directly at her. Why would Michael let this man see her?
The man turned back to Michael, and they sat on two stools at the far side of the large, nearly empty room and talked in hushed tones.
Kirstyn did her best to listen. Were they discussing her?
Anna left the room to fetch more water. Kirstyn tried not to make a sound, hoping the men would forget she was there. And gradually, they did begin to speak a little loud
er.
“I know a sheik who would pay a lot of gold and spices for her,” the almost skeletal man with the greasy hair said.
Raw fear flooded Kirstyn’s middle like molten lead. Her arms lost their strength as the bread dough went limp in her hands. It must be very far to where sheiks lived. Would her father be able to find her so far away?
But they were still talking. She forced herself to listen.
“Your father’s new partner is planning to marry your sister. Together they will inherit everything.”
Michael’s face twisted into something dark and ugly.
“. . . name is something strange . . . Arabic. Aladdin.”
“I remember. And now that I’m here, I shall break into the house and slit his throat while he sleeps. Or perhaps that would be too quick. I want him to know I’m selling his childhood love to the highest bidder.”
Kirstyn’s heart crashed into her throat, and she could hardly draw in a breath. If only her thoughts would quiet so she could listen.
“What are you doing to our bread?” Anna stood over her.
Kirstyn was so focused on eavesdropping that she hadn’t noticed Anna enter.
“You’ve squished it to nothing.” Anna pointed at the lump of bread dough. Kirstyn held it so tightly it was oozing between her fingers.
She worked to mold the dough back into a ball, but her heart was pounding. Aladdin. He must be here in this town! But he was in great danger.
She tried to continue listening as she reshaped the lump of dough. Oh, why wouldn’t Anna be quiet? Didn’t she know Kirstyn was desperate to hear what Michael was saying? But she couldn’t let her become suspicious, so she looked at Anna and nodded, pretending to understand what sounded like only babble.
A minute later the bony man left. Michael sat with his hands clenched into fists and resting on his thighs while he stared broodingly at the floor.
O God, please don’t let Michael harm Aladdin. I would give anything to see him again. I miss him so much. But I couldn’t bear it if Michael hurt him. Would Aladdin even recognize her if he saw her? Her clothes were dirty and torn. She was thinner and probably looked gaunt and haggard. And her hair . . . She hadn’t been able to comb it for months. She hadn’t had the strength to care until now, when she imagined seeing Aladdin again.
She had to warn him that Michael was planning to kill him. But how?
Aladdin recorded figures in the ledger at Herr Kaufmann’s desk in the warehouse. As the afternoon wore on, the sellers, overseers, and boat captains trickled in to report their numbers for the day.
“I don’t want to upset Herr Kaufmann,” one of the sellers said in a quiet voice, “but I have heard that his son has returned to Lüneburg.”
A sudden coldness froze Aladdin. Would he be able to protect Herr Kaufmann from his son causing him even more pain? He’d at least have to put his guards on high alert. “Do you know what he wants?”
“No doubt money. He is trouble.”
“Say nothing to Herr Kaufmann.” Aladdin would decide if and when to tell him. He’d like to make certain the rumor was true first, so he asked one of Herr Kaufmann’s warehouse guards, Claus, to ask around town.
The next day Claus came into the office, and by the look on his face, his news was bad. “Herr Kaufmann’s son is here. I saw him myself.”
“What is he doing here?”
“Nothing good. The word is he’s angry that Herr Kaufmann has decided to appoint you as his heir.”
“Yes, that makes sense.”
“And that you’re marrying Herr Kaufmann’s daughter.”
“That is well known, is it?”
Claus shrugged. “It is known.”
“Where is he staying?”
“It’s best you do not confront him, Aladdin. He’s a dangerous man, and nothing would please him more than to see you dead. You mustn’t go near him.”
“I understand. I’ll be careful. Now tell me.”
Claus frowned on one side of his mouth. “He goes by Michael now, but I still haven’t discovered where he’s staying.”
“Michael?” Could it be? Could Herr Kaufmann’s son be the man who had taken Kirstyn captive? Could she be with him even now?
Aladdin stood so quickly he knocked over the stool he’d been sitting on. “You must help me find him. Immediately. Take me to someone who knows him or who’s talked to him. There’s no time to lose.”
Claus’s face flushed. “Saints above! He could be the Michael we’ve been searching for.”
Aladdin’s own face heated, and he grabbed Claus by the arm. “Let us go, man.” What was he waiting for?
“You must not confront him.” Claus’s jaw hardened. “I shall go now, but you must let me and the other guards find him.”
“I’m going with you.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Aladdin arrived home just as it was getting dark. Grethel hurried forward to greet him.
“Welcome home, Aladdin.” She smiled sweetly. “Let me take your coat.”
“Thank you.”
She helped him off with it, then hung it on a hook. “How was your day?”
This was the moment of every day that he should kiss her. After all, they were making plans to be married. But a memory of Kirstyn would always leap into his mind. It was what happened every time he thought about kissing Grethel. But today . . . he had an even better reason for not kissing her.
The look of hope on her face made him uneasy. “Is your father home? I need to speak with him.”
“He’s in the dining hall waiting for supper.”
“I have some news you should probably hear as well.”
Grethel took his arm, and together they made their way to the main room of the ground floor.
Herr Kaufmann sat at the head of the table. His eyes were closed, his hands folded and resting on his belly. Aladdin’s heart squeezed at how much he was about to disturb his beloved mentor’s tranquility.
Herr Kaufmann’s eyes opened, and he sat up straighter in his chair. A smile spread over his face as he held out his hands to them. “My dear Grethel and Aladdin. How much pleasure it gives me to see you two. Come and let me kiss you.”
Grethel leaned down and let him kiss her cheek. He squeezed Aladdin’s shoulder and gave him a quick hug.
“Herr Kaufmann, there is something I must tell you and Grethel.” Nervous energy still flowed through Aladdin’s body. “And then I need to go out again.”
“Oh?” Herr Kaufmann’s bushy white brows drew together, and he leaned forward. “Sit down. You must have your supper, you know.”
Aladdin took a deep breath. “Claus, a few of the town soldiers, and I have been looking all over town for the past few hours for a man named Michael.”
Herr Kaufmann’s face sagged. Grethel’s eyes squinted closed, and a tiny groan escaped her lips.
“But we know who this man is.” Aladdin leaned in to try to get their attention. “He’s here in Lüneburg. It’s your son, Herr Kaufmann.”
Grethel made a sound like the squeal of a mouse.
Herr Kaufmann’s eyes grew bigger and he leaned away. “Not Cedric.”
“Yes, except he is using the name Michael.”
“Oh no.” Herr Kaufmann placed a hand over his heart. “Cedric Michael. That is what his godfather named him. But you said it was a rumor. Perhaps it isn’t true. The Michael who took Lady Kirstyn had a scar on his forehead, and Cedric does not have a scar.”
“He might have acquired the scar since you saw him last.”
“Medium height, brown hair?”
“Claus saw him and recognized him.”
Herr Kaufmann crossed himself, then slumped against the back of his chair.
“What do you think he wants?” Grethel looked stricken. Her lower lip trembled as she pressed the back of her hand against her cheek.
“We have been searching, as I said, but have not found where he is staying. We heard that he is holding a young woman captive. I believe it could be Lady
Kirstyn.” His heart leapt just saying the words aloud. “He is here trying to sell the captive maiden to whomever is able and willing to pay his price.”
“Oh.” Grethel covered her mouth with one hand.
Herr Kaufmann groaned and closed his eyes. It was a grave sin to sell a fellow human, a direct violation of Church law that could get a man excommunicated.
Just then Hilde and two other servants bustled into the room bearing the evening meal. After Hilde set down the enormous dish she was carrying, she turned to Herr Kaufmann.
“Whatever is the matter?” She glanced around at Aladdin and Grethel. “You all look as if you just heard the plague was in Lüneburg.”
“Not the plague,” Aladdin said softly.
“No, something worse. My son.” Herr Kaufmann spat the words as if they tasted bitter.
“Oh dear.” Hilde stood as still as a pillar of salt. She did not even blink. Finally she exclaimed, “What does he want? You will not let him in the house again, will you? Oh, Herr Kaufmann.” She looked ready to burst out sobbing.
“He is not to set foot in this house.” Herr Kaufmann was nearly shouting. “Aladdin, as soon as supper is done, we shall call all the male servants and set them on a schedule to stand watch over the house.”
“I’ll have to leave you to do that, Herr Kaufmann.”
Not for the first time, Aladdin wondered how a man like Herr Kaufmann could have raised a son like this Cedric Michael.
Aladdin did not wait for the table to be set. He went upstairs to gather a few things, then rejoined the guards who were outside waiting for him. Hilde packed them a quick repast of cheese, sausage, and bread, and they were off.
The next day Kirstyn stirred the frumenty while waiting for the bread dough to rise. The rope around her wrist, which was tied to the wooden beam bracing the ceiling, was just long enough for her to reach the fireplace.
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