by Lorentz, Iny
Sir Dietmar nodded instinctively as if to agree, but then raised his head. Rupert noticed the motion and smiled. “Why don’t you accept the situation as it is? Take the hand that my brother extends to you in friendship and ally yourself with him. In return, Konrad will cede Felde Castle to you along with a third of the land that once belonged to Sir Walter. The property would better round out your holdings than the property of your uncle.”
Marie could feel the almost hypnotic power in Rupert’s words and feared for a moment that Sir Dietmar would succumb.
Lady Mechthild, who had silently appeared at Marie’s side, seemed to feel the same way. “My husband will never do that!” she called down into the hall. Before Marie could jump up, she felt the lady’s tight grip on her shoulder.
“You have some explaining to do later!” she whispered angrily to Marie, barely moving her lips or taking her eyes off her husband and Rupert.
Since neither of the men replied, she addressed Rupert. “Tell your brother that Arnstein will never cower before him. To accept this offer would be a disgrace. We demand our rights and will fight for them.”
Rupert’s face darkened with fleeting anger. Raising his wineglass as if trying to conceal a scornful grin, he looked at the knight over the rim of the glass. “So it’s true what they say about you, Sir Dietmar. Your wife wears the pants here.”
For a moment the lord of the castle looked sheepish, but then brought his fist crashing down onto the table. “No one gets away with talking to me like that, least of all the miserable illegitimate son of an even more miserable father. Leave, knave, or I’ll have my servants throw you out.”
Rupert had not expected this. His eyes darting nervously between the knight and the signed parchment, he reached for it without thinking.
Sir Dietmar seized the valuable document. “You’d like to have that, wouldn’t you, scoundrel! Your reaction shows me that my chances are good of retrieving my property in the kaiser’s court without an armed conflict.”
“We’ll see about that!” Rupert snapped as he sprang up and left the great hall without saying good-bye.
Sir Dietmar turned away and looked up at his wife, shaking his head. “What if Keilburg’s peace offering was meant seriously?”
“If you’d accepted, it would be stabbing our neighbors in the back. Your friends would rightfully take such an agreement as a betrayal. Then we would be left without any allies, completely at the mercy of Count Konrad.”
“But I’d have Felde Castle and a nice piece of land.”
“Something Konrad von Keilburg could take back from you whenever he wanted without anyone lifting a finger to stop him. No, Dietmar, we don’t have much more than our honest name, and we mustn’t risk it for a mess of pottage.”
“Woman, I’m afraid you’re right again! But I need some fresh air to think it all over.” Dietmar took a deep breath, drank the rest of his wine, and left the great hall, shoulders drooping. Lady Mechthild stood shaking her head as he left the hall, waiting until the doors had closed behind him. She then turned to Marie.
“Now, as for you. Why are you eavesdropping on my husband? I know this isn’t the first time. Are you spying for Count Konrad?”
Tears streaming down her cheeks, Marie wiped them away with the back of her hand. “No, my lady. I have nothing to do with Keilburg, but all the more so with his scoundrel half brother.”
Lady Mechthild raised an eyebrow. “What do you know about Counselor Rupert?”
Marie groaned as the lady’s fingers dug into her shoulder. “He was my fiancé! He stole everything I had and made me what I am today.”
Though Mechthild loosened her hold slightly, doubt as well as interest showed in her face. “Tell me everything you know about him. Come along!”
She led Marie into her private room overlooking the courtyard. Aside from the well-padded stone bench that ran under the three windows, there were a diminutive closet, a matching sewing table decorated with inlaid work, and an upholstered footstool. The floor was covered with sheepskin, which along with the old woolen wall hangings made the tiny room feel like a cave. This was where the lady retreated when she wanted to be alone.
Lady Mechthild ordered Marie to take a seat. Then she took two cups from the little closet, filled them with wine from a clay pitcher, and sat so that her face was in the shadows while Marie sat in the light of the slowly setting winter sun.
“Speak now. But I warn you! If I feel you are lying, I’ll make quick work of you.”
Looking down at her hands, Marie tried to swallow the lump in her throat. Overwhelmed more by memories than the lady’s threats, she spoke haltingly at first. But as Mechthild quietly listened and didn’t interrupt, Marie’s confidence increased, her words tumbling out faster and faster. She held nothing back, not even her plans to murder the counselor.
As she was about to relay her experiences on the road, Mechthild raised her hand and changed the topic back to Rupert. She had Marie repeat everything she knew. Finally the lady stood up and put her hand on her back as if to keep from collapsing with the weight of all her duties. “If what you say is true, our enemy is even more dangerous than we had assumed.”
“I swear by all the saints that I have spoken the truth,” Marie said calmly, despite the emotions raging within her.
“For your sake, I hope so. I will send a trusted man to Constance who will ask around. Until he is back, you will not leave the castle.” Lady Mechthild rose and opened the door, then closed it again and put her hands on Marie’s shoulders. “If your report is true, Counselor Rupert’s treatment of you is more than shameful.”
Marie pictured herself again in the dungeon, and sobbed. “He wasn’t the only one.”
“Pull yourself together!” Lady Mechthild didn’t give Marie time to wallow in misery, but instead ordered her back to her room to prepare herself for the lord. When Dietmar returned from his walk still out of sorts, he felt little desire to sleep with Marie, but he was helpless against the will of his wife.
VII.
Mechthild von Arnstein took Marie’s report so seriously that she sent her trustworthy castellan to Constance. The heavy snow had let up over the past several weeks, but now cold gripped the land and icy winds swept over the hills. Despite the freezing weather, Marie walked around the battlements every day and climbed the tower to watch for Giso’s return. She was thankful that Mechthild had not imprisoned her, but even with this daily routine, she was barely able to contain her mounting tension.
Trying to distract her friend, Hiltrud took Marie along to the goat stables. Thomas showed her his animals, introducing them by name and telling her funny stories. For a few days Marie enjoyed her visits, as Thomas was very entertaining, but she soon felt like she was intruding. She could see that these two very different people had forged a bond of affection that went far beyond ordinary friendship, but when she suggested that Hiltrud ask Lady Mechthild if she could stay at the castle, Hiltrud vigorously shook her head.
“No, that wouldn’t work out, even though we both care very much for each other. Thomas is a vassal and can’t lift a finger without asking his master’s permission, and people would always make me feel shameful. We’re just enjoying this time together from which we’ll always have beautiful memories. That’s all we can hope for.”
“That’s a shame. Your Thomas is a good man and would be a caring companion.” When Marie saw the tears in Hiltrud’s eyes, she could tell how hard this was for her friend, and she resolved not to bring up the subject again. After that, she only occasionally accompanied Hiltrud to see the goats. Lady Mechthild’s pregnancy kept her busy, and she also spent time on the castle walkway or in the sewing room.
In the weeks before Christmas, it began to snow hard, and for a while it looked like the castle might be completely cut off from the outside world. Finally, during a raging snowstorm, Giso returned. Lady Mechthild, who was now very large with ch
ild and had difficulty moving, nevertheless hurried down to the courtyard to greet him. Marie followed close behind with a cup of hot mulled wine and was pleased that the lady was awaiting Giso’s report as eagerly as she was.
The castellan took the wine Marie offered and gulped it down without so much as a glance. Knocking the snow from his coat, he threw it to a servant in the hall and rubbed his freezing hands. “This is no weather for traveling, my lady, but I think my trip was worthwhile. I apologize for making you wait and wonder for so long, but I had to stay for the results of some important inquiries in Constance, or I would have been here before the snowfall.”
Lady Mechthild looked at him with some annoyance. “Was it so difficult to learn something about Marie?”
Giso demurred. “Certainly not. After three days, I knew everything there was to know about her. But there is news, my lady, that will interest you and your husband more than the fate of this woman. Kaiser Sigismund will be coming to Constance and staying there for three or four months. That gives you ample time to travel there and present your dispute concerning Sir Otmar’s testament.”
“That’s the best news I’ve heard in a long time.” Breathing a sigh of relief, Lady Mechthild momentarily folded her hands in prayer. The kaiser resided in Prague most of the time, but often traveled to his various other estates in the Reich. In order to present his case, Sir Dietmar would have had to search for him, taking along a large retinue for protection. Doing so would have deprived the castle of many battle-ready men and given the Keilburgs the opportunity to storm the fortress in a surprise coup.
Giso nodded and smiled encouragingly. “The kaiser plans to hold a council in Constance that will sweep through Christianity like a storm and remove all the filth, especially the three unworthy popes.”
“A council, you say, in Constance?” This news surprised Lady Mechthild so much that she forgot why she’d sent Giso there. She asked him for details of everything he’d learned and then paced back and forth in the hallway, mulling it all over. Marie couldn’t curb her impatience and finally dared to address Giso.
“Did you learn anything about my father?”
His face darkened. “Your fate created a great stir in Constance. Everyone I asked had something to say. In retrospect, some people feel appalled at how you were treated. A handful of city council members protested to the kaiser’s governor about the speedy sentence in the Dominican court since your case should rightly have been heard by the city council. But no judicial steps were taken because your father disappeared the day you were driven from the city. Various rumors were circulating, but finally, after I bribed a drunken sheepshearer named Anselm with two cups of wine, he told me a story that sounds the most likely. A few days after you were expelled, he said he’d helped a gravedigger bury a corpse in potter’s field. When they threw the body into the hole, the blanket covering the dead man slipped, and the sheepshearer recognized him. Anselm swore to me by all the saints that it was your father, Matthis Schärer.”
That wasn’t unexpected. Marie lowered her head, waiting for tears to come, but her eyes remained dry. She listened almost indifferently as Giso told Lady Mechthild about Marie’s unusually short trial and her immediate sentencing. He also told of how Rupert had all of her father’s property, which the bishop’s court awarded to him. The counselor also won several trials against her uncle Mombert who had protested the shameless confiscation of the property.
“The whole matter seems to me like a wicked trick of Keilburg’s illegitimate brother,” Giso said in conclusion. His face turned so dark that he appeared to want nothing more than to personally throttle the counselor.
Lady Mechthild patted Marie gently on the head. “I am indebted to you, girl, because I now understand the counselor’s true deviousness, and I am certain we can soon present our case to the kaiser. My deepest sympathy on the death of your father. Even though the fiendish counselor did not personally lay a hand on him, he’s responsible for his death.”
Marie thanked her in a few polite words, but her thoughts flew back to that day nearly four years ago when she had first been accused. It suddenly became clear that she would never see her father again. Now she could seek to silently beg him for forgiveness because she thought he had abandoned her. Nevertheless, any tears she might have felt were staunched by her deep hatred for everyone who had anything to do with his death along with those who had left her abandoned and miserable.
“Rupert is now living in my father’s house, putting on airs and acting like a nobleman,” she said bitterly.
Giso nodded sympathetically. “Alas, that’s so! He has become a respected citizen of Constance and enjoys the favor of the new bishop. It is said he will also play an important role in council preparations.”
Lady Mechthild threw her head back. “Then maybe things don’t look as favorable for us there as I had thought. If he stands in such high favor, he might be able to convince the kaiser to recognize the new will that Count Konrad von Keilburg presents. I wish we could speak with my husband’s uncle. Though Sir Otmar intended to enter the monastery at Saint Ottilien, he never arrived there and left no trace of his whereabouts.”
“It’s possible Count Konrad had him killed,” Giso growled.
Lady Mechthild crossed herself. “God forbid. I fear I may have made a mistake in keeping my husband from forming an alliance with the Keilburgs.”
Giso looked disgusted. “Getting involved with scoundrels such as Count Konrad and Counselor Rupert would be a sin before God.”
“I can only hope my husband sees things that way,” Lady Mechthild responded with a touch of anxiety.
Marie reached out for Mechthild’s hand and was happy the lady didn’t draw back. “Sir Dietmar loves you very much and would never say anything bad about you, especially not just before your child comes.”
“Now I really hope it’s a boy, or my husband will be bitterly disappointed.” She sighed and asked Marie and Giso to excuse her.
Marie watched anxiously as Lady Mechthild, deeply discouraged, struggled with ponderous steps out of the hall. After the doors had closed behind her, Marie turned to Giso again, who was just finishing his third cup of mulled wine. “Did you learn anything about the others I told you about? What happened to our housekeeper, Wina, for example, or the two servant girls, Elsa and Anne?”
“The old woman Wina is now working for your uncle Mombert. The maids have likewise found other work, one in Constance and the other in Meersburg. None of the servants in Rupert’s house are from your time there.”
“What became of Linhard Merk, the secretary?” Marie spat out the name as if something disgusting had gotten stuck in her teeth.
“Linhard now calls himself Brother Josephus. He entered the Scottish monastery in Constance a few months after you were driven out of town.”
Marie laughed bitterly. “A murderer and rapist wearing a monk’s robe? The good citizens trust such a man and think they will get to heaven faster with his help? What about his two accomplices?”
Rubbing his nose with his finger, Giso thought for a moment. “Hunold is still one of the city bailiffs, and Utz enjoys the confidence of business people in Constance, traveling the world as a leader of wagon trains.”
“The two didn’t make much from their vile deeds. I would have expected Rupert to richly reward at least Utz. What happened to the widow Euphemia?”
“Her betrayal of you did even less for her, as she was found dead in bed only three months after your trial. The strange thing is that she was healthy, and shortly beforehand had boasted around town that she would soon be very rich.”
“Perhaps she was going to blackmail Rupert, so he or one of his cronies killed her.” That gave Marie little satisfaction. She could only assume Euphemia had received her just punishment and hoped the woman was suffering all the torments of hell that the church reserved for perjurers.
She also asked Giso
about her relatives, but all he knew was that Mombert and his family were in mourning because the son they had long yearned for had died shortly after birth. Marie suddenly thought of Michel, but she hadn’t asked Giso to make inquiries about him, so she thanked Giso and promised to tell Hiltrud he had returned.
VIII.
Giso had only just returned before a whole series of events took place that kept the residents of the castle holding their breaths. The sun was standing high in the sky when a tower lookout announced the sighting of a man on horseback who was driving his horse at a full gallop up toward the castle despite the icy road. The horse slipped several times, but instead of dismounting and leading it by the reins, the rider whipped the poor animal and spurred it on.
Opening the castle gate and approaching the man, Giso intended to reprimand him for the mistreatment of his mount. But before Giso could say anything, the horseman fell from his saddle, and the castellan was only just able to catch him. Ice crystals were stuck to his eyebrows, and he was trembling so violently, he could barely speak.
“I must see Sir Dietmar. It’s of the utmost importance.”
“It’s Philipp von Steinzell!” shouted one of the guards at the gate.
Only now did Giso recognize the squire, and he wondered what new misfortune Philipp was there to announce. Seizing the unexpected guest under his arms, he dragged him toward the living quarters. Remembering the horse, he turned around to see the exhausted mount standing under the entryway, trembling, with lacerated shanks and bleeding sides. Calling to the guard, he issued a brief order.
“Take the nag to the stable and call the goatherd. Tell him to make herbal compresses for the animal and nurse it back to health.”
In spite of the man’s considerable weight, Giso carried the young Steinzell into the great hall, giving him some of the same mulled wine that had revived his own spirits just a few hours earlier. Giso then listened in horror to the bad news that Philipp had brought.